I need a new drink

The invitations are almost completely done now. I've even bought stamps, after one of those trips to the post office that makes you want to scrub yourself with bleach. The rampant stupidity I encountered yesterday made it good I don't carry weapons. Or plastic forks for that matter.

Oddly enough, I'm missing address for more family members than friends.

No D&D last night, as our DM's computer crashed along with all his notes. We were pretty beat anyhow, so Alan and I just sat on the floor drinking wine and discussing Harry Potter.

It's chilly outside, so maybe it will be winter after all. I'd like this week to be done already.

bring on the pain, bring on the noise, the radio dj says

I have spent the past two hours listening to some of the most ridiculous music Eastern Europe puts on the radio in a desperate attempt to stay awake. Perhaps I should go back to not drinking at all. But I really can't figure out why I'm so sleepy. Maybe it's a reaction to the cold. So it's hour after hour of upbeat dance, bad house, semi-decent trance and enough goth techno staples to fill the truck of a car.

Mailed the larger portion of invitations. I have to dig up addresses for my aunts, mail my mother's, and find a couple other people I've lost. Somehow, it might all actually get done. A few more checks, a dress fitting and it's a little over a month away. My god. I never did think it would happen like this, or at all, but that's alright.

Last night we talked about the voice, and how one doesn't even have to be a truly great writer if you have a powerful character. Alex is like that. We had off the cuff stories last night, and I'm still chuckling over them this evening.

Right now I'm fucking around because I don't want to go work in Minnesota. I have to sit in the middle of my supervisor and my lead, along with a newbie. So there is no way for me to cure the eternal boredom. There's just something so deadly about this feeling, this urgent craving for Friday nights. I want a day job.

Matrix Revolutions in the morning. Despite a plethora of vitrolic reviews, I want to go anyway. Explosions, Agent Smith(s), eh?

belligerent statements and grocery lists

"I smoke. If this bothers anyone, I suggest you look around at the world in which we live and shut your fuckin' mouth." -Bill Hicks

Bill Hicks was a good man, a funny man. I miss him. We used to listen to cds of his routines in the car, going home from school in the afternoon. I don't remember now if I heard it first from James or John, but I do remember hearing his voice in the golden Volvo speeding down McNeil road.

My most recent grocery receipt, for lack of anything better. Really I can't tell if we are eating better or not some days. But we did buy vegetables.
( Really it was $101.01 )