2001-05-30 || 4:49 p.m.

|| a little too much guanine. ||

o i have the amoeba itch. this is what i would buy if i had any money at all, in list form, because i know you are just dying to know, heh.. but more so because i haven't made a list (on the back of a credit card receipt. on a business card. on the last few pages of my journal that are always sacrificed for lists and very important things i must remember)and maybe if i write it here i won't get an awful case of record store amnesia. boy do i hate that. kay. here it is:

'spectral worship' guv'ner (because i love it and don't have it and it just isn't right to borrow others' music all the time.)

'days in the wake' palace brothers (because i keep singing the songs and don't have a copy and that too i think is a tragedy.)

the unrest album that is white with black and red

'it was hot, we stayed in the water' the microphones (i have the record but i want the cd to listen to at work. plus the cd has an illustration of calvin johnson that the record just doesn't have and i need it to tattoo on my bee-hind. shimmy, calvin, shimmy!)

oh...faltering...amnesia setting in....dag. and more velvet underground and galaxie 500 and paul burch and johnny cash and holy the new weezer album! and what were those others jeez i can't remember i need more elephant 6 in my life and what else. oh. i am drawing such treacherous blanks, ow.

i am giving up.

and i need more girl singers in my life.

why the hell aren't i a girl singer. (i get so shy when it comes to singing sometimes. sometimes i can belt it out in the car, in the cereal aisle, in a big car garage at evergreen college because the acoustics are amazingly fantastic there, my voice bounces off vans and dumpsters and cement walls adorned with painted slogans and it's heavenly. i feel like goddamn edie gorme. but sometimes. i cannot make any kind of sound because i am so scared. in my boy's living room, guitars in hand, we are trying to make up a nice song. i wish for nothing more than to relax and make up funny lyrics about france with him, fumble with my chords, sing unselfconsciously slightly off key even, but i am absolutely muted by shyness. ((this is all my dad's fault. passed down on gene number 487994. a little too much guanine and the both of us are stricken by rampant shyness at the very oddest of times.)) but i would love to sing. i am a great singer, really i am. just don't ask me to do it. and don't ask my sweet aline about the time i sang 'greatest love at all' at karaoke night.)

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