freezing tonight

Washed my bedspread today. Though I need to find some pajama type clothes warm enough to wear tomorrow for the party. Since is is bloody damned cold outside, and we turned Micah's welcome back to Texas party into a sleepover. Lots of video games and madness will ensue I think. Hopefully no truth or dare. I still remember the ridiculous things we made each other do and eat at Tracy's house when I was a kid.

Played a couple of mean hands of Shanghai Rummy tonight. My Metro coffee girl Kim is back in town, and she made me an espresso brownie and covered it in coconut ice cream. I love it when Amy's makes fruit ice creams, because they always have the real stuff in there, and the flavor is incredible. That was dinner, washed down with a large cup of coffee.

Too bad it won't snow and shut everything down, or even ice over. But we only have pickles and saurkraut, and some milk. Not enough caffiene or cigarettes. We might go nuts, and have to stumble our way out to the Diamond Shamrock.

Right after Gene left the house for work, he called my cell phone to inform me of the presence of a large dead animal at the exit to our apartment complex. I don't know why, but it was really funny at the time.

A strange time when my evil wizard is one of the cuter things in the soap opera of doom that is our RPG. Obviously the world has gone mad.

The news is weird. I shouldn't read too much of it. I learn things like how the professor at Tech lied to the feds and made me worry about the plague all afternoon for no good reason, the Czech parliment might elect Vaclav Klaus when Havel retires and that the guy who writes songs for Meatloaf is considered a serious composer in Germany. Yet another reason to be annoyed by Germany.

I wonder what Havel's going to do

can't shake off this dream

I'm a Pansy. The bloom of thought. Thoughts are my haven. I prefer solitude and quiet places so I can ponder uninterrupted. What bloom are you? by Polly_Snodgrass

No, I don't have anything better to do when I get up. I check my email, see if the temp agency has sent me anything, look over the job ads in the paperm open the porch door to see what the air feels like, etc. I think I should just take a shower. Maybe I should start cleaning first. Can't decide. Maybe I'll just go walk around instead.

We are restless.

too random even for me

your wildest, wildest dreams, always in the shades of pale and pain
there's nothing inbetween

I could listen to this song over and over
standing on the balcony in the dark with my back against crumbling concrete
flicking cigarettes over the edge down through the chestnut trees

There are crumbs on the coffee table, my Pixies cassette, mardi gras beads, books and dvds and two decks of cards, my belt, Melynda's hat, the mail, and maybe it would just be easier to get up and go. Get up, get up and go. Put on the Russian pop music and drive.

Lights from the airfield
Shining in our faces
Nothing can stop us
Not now, I love you
They're not going to get us

The back door is open, and yes it may be cold for Texas, but it feels good with the sunlight, and when I clean the house I need it to be open, I need the stereo on. I can only do this at noon or midnight. No time in between.

I have my finger on something just out of sight, and it's coming slowly.

One long, long sentence

Micah and I go to the giant chinese buffet place by Lamar, the one with the vinyl banners that say "Best Buffet in Austin 6 Years - Austin Chronicle" and we park after driving the wrong way down the parking lot aisle, and I eat myself sick on rice and fried dumplings and mushrooms in spinach and seasame chicken and we talk about movies and sex, and it's a perfect blue afternoon outisde when we leave to have a cigarette, our bellies aching from all that food and then we drive to the liquor store at Duval and 183, buy a bottle of vodka and Crown Royal because we're probably going to drink a lot tonight with this party happening in our newly clean apartment, where I threw out all the beer bottles on the bar because I felt tired of them and you couldn't put any of the kitchen appliances out because there isn't hardly any counter space at all and I don't have pajamas to wear but I sleep in my jeans anyways most nights so I don't worry about it and sit here with my laptop and a coke watching the light turn darker blue outside and wait.

This entry brought to you by pages 96-97 of The Informers by Bret Easton Ellis.

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Gregg Araki movies remind me of Bret Easton Ellis novels, and I have the bad taste to like both. Both of them require volume and room to scream.

I'm in an absolutely hellishly weird mood. Not bad, I suppose, just weird.

Crash is running on the television, I have my headphones on and my mp3s cycling, I'm reading a book, smoking a cigarette and typing, as much of it at once as I can take. I think today is just one slow subtle build up to a big explosion of energy.