space-oddity's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- crap t.v. and fake chicken i enjoy my late mornings of crap t.v. and fake chicken sandwiches. is it wrong to find a simple sort of joy in these things? what am i missing? last night. for once our talk ended with results. feeling comfy and easeful. it's warm inside, and it's thriving. i want to take a nap. 3:32 pm - 11.13.03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- mind-racing i think that, all said and done, i am a very jealous and obsessive person. this is no good, and it is exhausting. and i feel much more pathetic for feeling this way. 12:41 am - 11.12.03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- camping and the strokes i've come back from class with a craptastic headache, and due to these sudden pains, plans for a later class have since been x-ed out.. by me, so i will sit and get familiar with my diary instead. first things are first. a guy has been blowing leaves outside my apartment for the past four hours. yes. count 'em. four. get a rake already!!! perhaps this is where the ache in my head originated. perhaps? yes. i think. on my walk home just a minute ago, i received a curious phone call from a curious voice. sounded like a very bad arab impersonation. he knew me by name and asked me if i was wearing a red sweater. not wanting to agree, i said that i wasn't wearing a red sweater, and he in turn questioned my answer, and then i gave in and said that i was, in fact, wearing a maroon sweater, which i guess is in the red family, but is not altogether completely red. no? i asked him for his name several times, but i could never quite hear it clear enough. i think he said "farley" and that i knew him through keith. still no bells ringing. he said he'd talk to me later, and that was that. where did he get my number, and why was he spying on me? curious. today is one of those crazy knoxville days that mark talks about. you'll see someone walking down the street wearing a winter coat w/ scarf, and immediately behind them, you'll see someone else wearing shorts and a t-shirt. the weather here is forever nuts. indecisive. really quite like myself. camping friday night was ace. despite. the fire starter log wouldn't start. the shitty grill at the campsite nearly made it impossible to cook anything. everything was damp from the rain that came the day before, and so the wood we bought was damp,too, and of course, it didn't burn as well as we had wanted. also, saturday morning, i started my fucking period. but other than all of this.. good times. we got to see some beautiful water falls, but we had to keep our hiking to a minimum.. well, for obvious monthly reasons. i had a great time, but i always have a great time with mark. one thing, though. i feel like when he goes camping with me, he has to make everything neat and sterile and pleasant, whereas he may not camp like this normally. i feel like i'm compromising his camping experience. oh well, it's still a good time. sunday night was the strokes show in atlanta. goddamn. i said, goddamn. original plans were to go with tiffany and her friend, dane, but the original plans were broken, and i ended up going with mark j, not to be confused with camping mark. regina spektor opened. she is genius, and she is insane. i felt a tori-amos-meets-bj�rk-meets-judy-garland vibe. i really did. then, the kings of leon. these guys are rockinfuckinroll. their set made me want to drink whiskey and rock the fuck out. seriously. and have you seen me? i don't look like someone who just rocks the fuck out. ever. so that's saying something. i didn't really want them to stop playing, but the strokes had to come on and do something at some point. by the time they came out, i was really excited. i had also consumed about five bass. i wanted to jump around and dance, but the fucking stiffs who covered the floor were boring and just wanted to stand and nod their heads. yes. boring. mark and i could see a clearing up in the balcony, so we went up there, where we had plenty of room to lose control of our bodies and act crazy. okay, that last sentence makes it sound like we crapped all over the place. that is not what i meant. you understand. anywho, the strangest thing is that i felt like i was watching them on t.v. the whole time. i don't know if it was because i was far away and in the balcony or if it was because the sound was muffled from where we were standing (so whenever julian talked into the mic, all we could hear was "hurmmmm-hurmmm-hurm-hummmm-hurrm-hurm-hurm-hurm..."), i really don't know what it was, but it was very strange and surreal. i guess maybe if i could have had a better view, it would have been different. i don't know. but i didn't want to deal with the lousy punks standing like dead people on the floor. shows like that are meant for you to feel the music. all over your body. if you don't feel it, then i think you should just get the fuck out. yes? maybe i'm wrong. but, all said, i had a good time. oh, and the strokes do not play an encore. i don't know how i feel about that. 3:19 pm - 11.11.03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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