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2001-11-17 || 9:59 a.m. || saturday morning a go go. oh my. || (it is nine fifty-eight and i am awake, wow! i watched digimon and made the strongest kickin my ass mocha and i am listening to car talk and i am in my pajamas and me glasses keep slippin of me nose and i don't know what to do today. i should be writin but i wanna break out, man. i wanna drive across state lines or set off firecrackers or run into trouble with the law at the ice skating rink that just opened up at the embarcadero, damn. err. what to do what to do. there were people on the roof this morning (feck! it was before nine o'clock!). they made ominous monster shadows against my drawn curtains and i peeked out just in time to watch the butch lady that vacuums the hallway floors throwin a rope over to my side of the rooftop, wha? military training? movie making? i don't understand. they didn't think it was strange, apparently. butch ladies on the roof undergoing covert operations in plain view of groggy apartment inhabitants. i could get into that, i guess. if it keeps me from reverting to the well worn saturday morning circles of 1) driving to the thrift town in search of dreamy blue vinyl carry-on bags (the presnt bag had a disastrous run in with a leaking bottle of orange juice) and typewriters or 2) callin the ex-boyfriend to see if he'll let me seduce him, jeez.) guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |