GOT ME A MOVIE (I WANT YOU TO KNOW)
In the last two days I realized that I've been home for a month and hadn't unpacked everything. This either speaks to my general laziness, my general desire to go back to school right now, or my general ambivalence about having a clean room. (I suspect the third, but think of me as you wish, Dear Reader.) Anyway, I stayed up late Thursday night and finished my bedroom, and late last night to finish the anteroom. Anybody can walk through both rooms without jumping over boxes or stepping on wire hangers, and suddenly it feels clean enough for me to write at my desk. The possibilities are looming ahead of me instead of billowing around me like a fallen parachute. (Read the first page or so of The Mysteries of Pittsburgh next time you're in a bookstore and you'll know what I mean.)

Also, I went to the library today.

THE DIRIGIBLE OF AUGUST
I talked to Ram last night and he made me feel a lot better about my various anxieties. (Yes, mom, he is good at that.) I'm not feeling nearly as frantic as I was yesterday. I'm sure it didn't help to put on Elliott Smith and turn off all the lights after I read the USA Today's projections on the possibility of nuclear war in Pakistan and India. That was pretty silly.

I started reading The Mysteries of Pittsburgh yesterday, and I assure you that it's the kind of book where suddenly you've read 50 pages, and then 75, and then 100. Even books by very funny people like David Sedaris seldom make me laugh aloud. Now that I think about it, David Sedaris is the exception, but still, good old Michael Chabon had me giggling every few pages. It's an entirely different feel from Wonder Boys and The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, maybe because there's a (very) little less narrative control, or more likely because the voice hasn't developed entirely. Last year a friend from Governor's School sent me a paragraph from the first few pages of the book which I have read and re-read in almost every bookstore ever since. I haven't encountered any other sentences like it, but then I haven't had the opportunity to fetishize all of them yet.

Also, it is about summer, and young people, and Pittsburgh. This indicates to me that all of you reading this should read it now. (I'm going to make you read it in autumn anyway, so why not read it when it's more season-appropriate? Besides, it'll only take you a day.)

HELP! I NEED SOMEBODY
I know I should stop reading the newspaper, at least when it relates to the India-Pakistan situation because it does not help, it does not help, it does not help. I can be sure that as much as I wish I could keep my boyfriend in this country (instead of flying to India next week), he will still go. His relatives are there, there is no leaving for them, and he and his mother will visit them. I am the least important person in this crisis, I know it, but that can't keep me from feeling all of this to the extreme. I will not watch the news, I will not read the USA Today's fatalistic take on any of this, and I certainly won't even look again at George F. Will's column telling us that "we're closer to a nuclear holocaust than we were in the cuban missile crisis." I'll think something other than no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I MUST BE FINE BECAUSE MY HEART'S STILL BEATING
I got all of my clearances for the Community Action job. I finally understand why my mom complains about the human resources department: they make everything so damn hard! Not only did I have to make copies of everything that I signed or initialed or wrote, but had to fill out extra forms explaining that I had signed them and submitted them. Also, for undisclosed reasons, they need a copy of my diploma, which means my mom has to get to work early to copy and fax it. If anything would comprise the dark, deathly toll of the desk job, this would be it.

I had to submit the clearances to the office of Representative Bill DeWeese, where I'll be interning in a month. And lucky, lucky, lucky me, I got to meet the gal who will train me. Her name is Angie and she was wearing a skirt that couldn't have been more than a foot long. I swear. (Don't worry, dear reader, I'm refraining from making ANY KIND of inference about Angie based on this first impression. Well, I mean, I'm trying not to.)

After I danced to the death with paperwork I went out to lunch with my mom and her supervisor (not nearly as hoity-toity as it seems because they're close friends), and I went to the library where I renewed Grendel and Rembrandt (but not Lolita) and got a book of short stories by Jorge Borges. Bohemian excitement abounds. (I also stopped by the City Mission, acertained that they didn't have any portable record players or cool shoes/handbags/scarves/prom dresses/typewriters, bought a Herb Alpert/Tijuana Brass record ("Whipped Cream and Other Delights," the famous cover with the lady all covered in whipped cream) and toasted out of there.

Any wrongs that were wronged against me were righted in the end because I finally got my letter from Ram. (!!!) I mean Rivers Cuomo. Well, let's face it, they both have the hots for me. Anyway, I now stand convinced that cartoons are a necessary addition to letters, especially if they're rock music-playing rats ("Draw your own label on the bass drum!" You bet I will.) and pleased punch, Ram, and Plato. Look out, R. Crumb and Daniel Clowes, because I am going to get Medieval on your asses.

(It's just a phrase.)

Also, lately I've been feeling a little more wound up about getting a bass and starting my whole trip to fame/disaster/recovery (for the ease of any future Behind the Music producers). All I know is this: 1)My bass will be white or green. 2)I will not pay retail for my amp. 3)I will probably mess up my amp with knitting needles to make it sound better. 4)There will be a part of my show where we turn all the lights down real soft, start the disco ball, and sing "Lotta Love" by Neil Young in unison.

Also, you will all join me in the photobooth in the basement of the Warhol when school commences.

GOD LOVES HIS CHILDREN YEAH
So, I've been a good little piggy today (shopping trip with mum.) To be fair, I had a Borders Gift Card from graduation last year that was going to run out pretty soon. And once we where out of the house, it turned out there was a shitload more errands to run (as we always have.) It was 12:30 by the time we got to South Hills, and combined we spent $97. Ugh. But it was Good: "The Mysteries of Pittsburgh," Michael Chabon, "The Sea," Pablo Neruda, Bitch Magazine, Readymade Magazine, and the new Breeders album. I also got two bitchin' new skirts for my future as a working girl, and also two bras. And also a copy of the new issue of NYLON which is all about Berlin. I am scoring all over the place, as it is plain for you to see.

And yet more good news: I was hired as a teacher-aide by Community Action Southwest and I go to get my crime and child abuse clearances tomorrow. I've finally cleaned up my room, and I'm feeling ripe for a little zine writing. Who knows. Also, I'm about to go eat a vegetable pot pie. This is so exciting.