|
2003-02-08 || 4:36 p.m. || with red paper hearts collecting in gutters like leaves: || i am having the most fabulous day. as in. i haven't felt quite so. well. happy in quite some time. happy for no reason at all. smiling in the car in terrible bay bridge traffic happy. thank you, angels in heaven and bonnie prince billy, for giving me such a sunny disposition today. (ahem. bought the new bonnie prince billy record today? i am listening to it now. i have listened to it three times nonstop since i took the plastic wrap off the cd.) my day: this far: while very encouraged that it is only 4:39 pm and have more beautiful day to go: this morning i woke up early with meow meow sleeping next to me with her paw on my forearm in that heartmelting catmom way. i looked out the window for a while. michael called bright and early to brag about selling all his pieces and three he hasn't painted yet at his very first gallery-ish show. i talked to my dear brian for approximately two minutes. i drove across the bay with coffee cup in hand and kept craning my neck to see how beautiful san francisco is on the sunny mornings, all steeples and points and bridge cables. i met my long lost friend billy for breakfast. we talked about friends and people getting married in droves and ghosts and my new secret crush, which descended from the mountain tops and snowballed into a heart-filled avalanche at approximately 11:22 pm last night, which will not be elaborated on at this point because this is the nature of top secret salivating starry-eyed crushes. we walked down haight street. a crusty punk boy told me i was beautiful and asked me to be his valentine and said squatters need love too, which very much flattered me to no end. we went to the record store and i bought too many things, including this bonnie prince billy record that i am hearting greatly at the moment. we walked to murio's and at approximately 2:37 pm, ladies and gentlemen, i was rather tipsy on an obscene dose of whisky sour for daylight. we ambled back up haight street with me a good fifteen decimals louder and more obnoxious. a homeless man asked if we were movie stars. we sat in very green earthworm-filled grass to have nice talks and funny sunburns. i decided, with whiskey a large component in my decision making, that for this valentine's day i would like to be the kissing bandit, racing up and down the streets of berkeley in a mask and cape and berry-flavored lip gloss wreaking havoc and increasing/decreasing any possible chances for getting lucky in the near future. and then and then i drove drove home loving sunlight and kittens and parasols and whiskey and mister oldham and stopped for iced coffee at yuppie central USA secretly looking for the cute counter boys i hear about so much (totally on the passive-aggressive prowl today) but they seemed to have been swallowed up in the sea of babies and matching jumpsuits and manicured nails and bad yuppie manners (two of them cut in line in front of me pretending to get a better look at the tea selection.). and now i am home. trying to think of what to do next. xo. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |