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About

This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

Regression

This new laptop I have acquired is very quirky. It decides when it wants to play movies (the other night it kept playing Bubba Ho-tep over and over again....which I didn't really mind) and it also decides when it will list my most recent music listening habits on which ever web page I am on. Maybe I just haven't gotten butch enough with it.

In the middle of starting this entry, I started talking to my youngest sister on Msn. We talk about boys, and how stupid they are. That of course, is my mature 31 year old self talking. No shit.

We talk about feelings we get sometimes when we meet someone who is so alike ourselves. Then waste away in our bedrooms, or cars listening to sad-assed chick music because it's love of the unrequited variety (I was never too good with returning phone calls). I just listen to sad-assed chick music and smoke too many cigarettes by my bedroom window, now.

Finally got a hold of Craig tonight. Had a quick little chat before dinner. He says funny stuff like: In honour of you, I will eat this Sour Jelly Belly.
I say: Why? Because you think I have a Jelly belly?

I can't help it, the stuff just pops out of my mouth sometimes. I tell him I am thinking about moving to New York a little sooner than I had originally planned. He says: Oh Man, you are SO New York.
Then I say: Why? Because I am neurotic and crazy?

Heh.

I had a late evening drive out to my favourite cigarette store, the sky the colour of molten rock and I wanted to stop and photograph. But I didn't. I just kept driving. Maybe I need to spend more time on the sidewalk.

I remember you. I thought I saw you in the supermarket, so I turned away and pretended to be interested in butternut squash, then made a hasty exit through the nearest checkout line. I'm just too afraid to know you, again.

Time for bed. Job interview tomorrow, and I need to do something with my wild red hair for an hour before slipping into the car and making the drive.

Night, comrades.

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