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2001-02-09 || 4:13 || thank you, too. || i'd like to thank the modern lovers, this hershey's double mocha i bought ten minutes ago at the student store, the msg in my lunchtime chinese food, the rain, the basement file room for allowing me to hold an impromptu one-lady concert (do you think the people upstairs can hear you singing in the basement?) and who ever invented friday afternoons for giving me this happy mood. thank you. and thank you jonathan richman, for writing the lyric 'girls turn the color of the avocado when [pablo picasso] drives down their street in his el dorado.' and thank you for wednesday night, which allowed me to dance to the point of unadulterated sweatiness to depeche mode songs set on 45 rpm and otis redding and various songs that allowed me to do my favorite hand clapping dance move. thank you for joe and owen, who are now immortalized in several polaroids dancing the night away with me, for owen and his slow dancing and sitting with me in a booth downstairs talking about the mass exodus to portland while i traced the water mark of my pint glass and tried not to be sad. thank you for joe, who is one of the sassiest dancers this side of walla walla. thank you for matt and his feet. thank you for the drive back to the east bay with a car-full of boys who discussed comic books and records as we raced across the bridge, making me feel like i was in a movie. and thank you for costco and boys who plan days around a trip there, only to be disappointed by the lack of sweatsuits and new tire smell. thank you for point isabel and the funny rocks that form the shoreline. thank you for letting me be so excited about right now and tomorrow and the next day and the next day. thank you for the alley outside the apartments on vernon street, full of open lighted windows to spy in and pebbles to throw at the glass. thank you for thunder and lightning. thank you for letting me have to stay in this dreary office room for another forty-five minutes until i can run outside and down to the record store and into the arms of the wide-open weekend. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |