Ugh.

This is me, all alone in my room after a visit from the greatest girl on the planet. It's dreadfully lonely in here now, and, dramatically enough, I'm a miserable shell of the person I was before. The week with her was good, though, spent mostly laying around and talking and... other things. Like watching tv, I mean. Hah.
Now I'm just sad and empty. As long as I'm curled up in my bed, I'm okay. But once I think about getting up, about all the things I have to do, about Amelie not being here and instead being miserable in Miami... I feel terrible. Just terrible. I don't know what to do with myself. I need my baby.

'bout that time...

I'll be off to get Amelie soon. A couple more hours and she'll be in town. Excited? Yeah. Tired? Oh, jebus, yes. This has been an exhausting week, and it doesn't end when Amelie gets here. Nope. Politics test. International relations. I am not looking forward to that. But Amelie will be here, and after the test comes Frank Black. Frank Black! Amelie! What a day! ... except for that test. Pfah.

o/~ Leave, dog, lights... leave, dog, llghts... o/~

Remember when you were a kid and you were only tired at night? You know, when you'd stay out too late with your parents or other family members, or you'd get to stay up late and watch a movie? I miss that. Being tired in the middle of the day is no good. Then again, being awake when the sun's up is no picnic, either.

Also, I put on one of my shoes before I put my pants on. I almost tied it before I realized what was going on. I'm not retarded, I swear. I'm just tired.

So tired...

But I got more comics in the mail. The Kid Eternity ongoing series by Ann Nocenti and Sean Phillips. Doesn't look a thing like the KE mini by Grant Morrison and Duncan Fegredo... which may explain why it only lasted 16 issues. I've still heard good things.

At least there was no jackhammering of the old pool today.

I was talking to my friend Laurie today about her hunt for a house. She's postponed it. And I got to thinking about not only what a huge responsibility a house is but about how, unless you're filthy rich, once you get a house, that house is always going to be where it is. Sort of obvious, I know. But it is a permanent place to keep your stuff. Nothing says you can't still travel around and have fun if you have a house. I just want to have it all, I guess.
Actually, I wanna sip fruity umbrella drinks on a beach with Amelie... Hey, a beach house...

Shit goddamn

If this ain't a motherfuckin' blog.
That's a stupid fucking word, isn't it? Blog. My fingers want to type "blob" or "blow." Fucking internet and its abbreviations, man, I swear.
I'd guess you're only here if you know me. So, welcome, or whatever. Enjoy it, or not. I have no idea what I plan on doing with it.

The Good News Section:
In five days time I will be spending a week with Amelie, the best girl ever and the only other person who recognizes just how goddamned sexy Alexander Hamilton is; and experiencing true Rock 'n' Roll with her at a Frank Black & the Catholics show. Plus Amelie's bringing me all sorts of presents. That's good, 'cause I've got stuff for her, like -- well, that would be telling. It's a good time to be alive.
Thus endeth the Good News Section.

Since I'm too much of an optimist to have a Bad News Section, I'm just going to say that I am lousy at buckling down and have no idea how I'm going to be caught up with school work before spring break. And just how old is the phrase "buckling down," anyhow? It's almost as stupid as "blog."