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2001-12-22 || 10:09 a.m. || point a to point b. still in point a. || it is raining very hard. i woke up an hour and thirty-four minutes late. i have the hair-do from last night, just mashed in places (aqua net is the miracle potion, yes, and i am in love with the trashiness of it. i am so secretly in love with big hair? why can't i time travel to 1969 so that my mum and i could hang out in my bathroom and she can teach me her teasing secrets?). we are supposed to be driving down down down in rain, past mini vans, past gas stations and burger kings and snowy passes, perhaps? i will sleep. i will have dreams about last night (i love matt and joe. i love dress up parties and playing trivial pursuit in the middle of a party with very nice kids i have been afraid of for a long time (it is so comforting to find goofiness in the hippest of creatures), in the middle of r kelly singles and lecherous boys STARING to the point i am hiding in the bathroom, in the middle of kissing in hallways (again. and again.) for the sake of tuxedo shirts and mistletoe, in the middle of people falling down and passing out under the christmas tree) and wake up still tasting like white russians and red stripe and altoidscigarettesredandgreenmandms). going home and i will do my laundry. i will watch star trek and drink wine in a box with my mum. i will drag my dad to the mall so that he can point and nod at what he wants. i will sleep in the childhood bed and have bad dreams and try to figure out the holiday schedule this year because i have a feeling it will be messed up. (i am looking forward to seeing my homies, childhood friends and their families, sweet michaelblandy (so excited, michael banana!), zipping up and down the highways late at night.)(i am not looking forward to christmas eve and christmas. i think it will hurt. i am imagining sitting at grammy's kitchen table drinking tea with kelly and gram, grammy telling us stories about her sister. dead sister stories.) guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |