This.

Hm.
I am beginning to see a pattern.
As well as my future.

Good album choices.

People are overrated. It's best to keep to yourself and only communicate when it will directly benefit you.

Also. It's never too late to reinvent yourself.

This. I made the safe/smart (at the time, for who/what I was) choices and am now boned because those choices put me in a conventional position and at the mercy of the world and others. I'd rather have had the chance, in retrospect, to go out swinging, die with my boots on, at least have fucking lived more than I have.



Excellent albums. People have a very poor track record as far as I'm concerned.

I did the reinventing myself thing, from something dishonest to something honest. I'm still miserable, and it's frustrating. Perhaps I reinvented the wrong bits; I'd get on better were I a complete fucking asshole, I think.

On the plus side, someone wunderfull I haven't spent much time with in the past year would like me as a roommate come spring. Which is good, because I am both fucking broke as all fuck and really lonely. It's a hike away from the 'Drome (I'd live there were there a shower and just fucking put up with the occasional emo band) but it would save me a lot of money and offer human contact on a regular basis with someone I not only don't want to kill but whose presence I actually enjoy. And is one of the... four people on the planet (I counted) who could put up with me. I'll deal with the late night long walks or take public transportation. There are too many loud people here since they moved the bands (all what, two of us?) off the sixth floor anyhoo.

Join us in being winners.

Your drums are obviously miced. I can hear when you turn them on and off, and you are loud enough as it is. And your band has no singer! I want to take this flight case and cram it forcibly up your Ahern with extreme prejudice.

Not the person whom you were going to live with some time ago?


And who better for people to model their lives after than us?

Not that one, but another wonderful lady of multicolouredness and loudness and tentacles who has been an occasional part of my posse for some years. She is a sculptor and a chemist. I am not kidding. Also, the person I gifted the Richard Nixon record to.

...at least... well, let's let the Chairman Of The Board speak for that:

My = -ed off. Still.

Sounds like good times, ahoy.

So when might this all come to fruition?

If I'm to have company, she is really as fine an option as any. I could deal with a roommate who stays in her room all the time and whose presence is undetectable save for the Tom Waits or Joy Division records emanating from the other room or the odd sci-fi thing on the telly. "We kinda just stay in our rooms and are weird"... I could deal with that. It might even be worth writing about.

Within the next couple months. Our leases are both up shortly.

Snaxcellent. Writing about in what form? Novel? Short story? Blog?

Late night drunken forum posts? I am rather wordy, so these could vary between "blog" and at least "novella".

That works. Sounds like interesting reading.

It could be. Or it could prove to be an exceptionally dull read. We'll see. Neither of us are the most stable folks on the planet but we get on well and are the sort of crazy that deals well with the other's sort of crazy.

Also, the thought strikes me that the picture, as overexposed and tampered with as it is, in your post there, is some years out of date and I've kept my looks, even in my avatar photo that makes me look older and my face more heavily lined than it is. As awesome as those band photos are, they did none of us favors in that way. I am happy I still look decent.

Yes, you are a very pretty princess.

Everybody knows that. Tell me something nobody knows.

How about that deep down (really deep), you think tangerine is the new mauve.