PrettyFakes

Today I discovered two things: first, watching Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers back-to-back—that’s three-hundred-and-fifty-seven minutes, if you’re counting out there, six hours—will leave you weary but happy, like a too-long massage.

Second, I think that I’m lactose intolerant. Dammit.

I’m suddenly quite exhausted, and I have to do about ten hours of writing tomorrow. So quickly—

Thursday I finished up Labor Law and, because it was so dark outside, escorted my professor and her two Yorkies around the neighborhood. She lives just down the street, anyway—and I found out when I walked past my house that my tenant was gone!! Rad! So after the walk I hopped in the Camino and headed over to the Cherokee to meet up with Steve & Woody.

The post-test-traumatic syndrome was hitting me pretty heavy, but I felt alright. Wrote a check for dinner and beer that turned out to be good (shazam!) and we picked up a few sixes of Southpaw and headed over to our pal JL’s house.

We caught the tail-end of a really great Dirty Santa party (Rubik’s Cubes! Michel Gondry DVD video collections! Beatles lunchboxes!) and I collapsed into a corner and drank my beer. Steve marveled at a passel of indy-rock girls playing dirty mad-libs and some guy put on his present, a Cure boot from 1980. After “Fire in Cairo” we said fuck it, and Strangeways came out, and who knew there were that many people who knew that many Smiths lyrics?

We ended up at Martin’s at my insistence, which was stupid, because Day One of my new job was coming at me fast-forward style. Hell, my finals were over—screw it.

Made it to work on time. Think I’m really going to like working at [* * *]. Sadly, I can’t tell you any details of my job—but it’s cool, all-reet?

Was so tired by the end of the work day that I couldn’t even string together a sentence. Picked up a bottle of Ballatore and a cheap Riesling on the way home and headed over to see Wah and Jah at jp!’s and la federala’s house. Ate a few pieces of mushroom pizza from Soulshine and drank too much wine. Talked and talked and talked. It was really great, even though I kept getting words all confused. It was just exhaustion, I promise. Plus, I was on foot.

Saturday: washed clothes all damn day and had my Tolkien-fest. Picked up a present for my sister. Looked at a ton of W & KC’s wedding fotos, all of which look like they’re from a movie. Went and saw the Sissyfits do their Memphis-jangle-pop Misfits covers, only six songs, but a singing drummer and drawled “whoa-OH-oh-OHs!” A girl I dig was dressed in a Jackie-O dress, complete with gloves and brooch and all those things the classy ladies wear, and looked really cool.

Erg. Was supposed to be in bed early . . . since when did two a.m. come so fast? Plus, got a mix cd from gclark that I haven’t even gotten to listen to yet, dammit—that’s for tomorrow. I’m pretty excited about it, even though it says “don’t give to Sally” on it, like, three times. Sheesh. You accidentally throw a brutha’s cd in a box of goodies once and you never stop hearing about it . . .

Did I tell you that Sally’s gonna be my neighbor? Yepra, not even like a few houses down, I mean peek-in-her-window neighbor. It’s gonna be tres rad—now, if we can only get gclark to move down here . . . and big ray and mame . . . and . . .

Have a good night. Merry almost Christmas, everybody.

non sequiter: Woody calls me up around two a.m. and says there’s an after party about to drop at his house. I beg off, he cusses me, standard issue. Then:

Him: “Hey, now I’m in three bands.”

Me: “Really? Who else [besides the Atomic Brains and John Black Attack]?”

[pause]

Me: “Woody?”

[pause]

Him: [slurring] “Fast Cars and Sex.” [click]

This entry was posted on Sunday, December 21st, 2003 at 2:32 am and is filed under Gorjus. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.