YOU'VE GOT KISSABILITY

Energy in the house has been weird, to say the least. Tonight I felt like I was spilling my guts to everybody, telling about how I feel about growing up in rural farmland, how cool my parents are, how I want things to be. Just a lot of shit that I never feel like saying. Watched Bamboozled with Carolyn and Ben tonight, and it put all of us out of commission and speechless. Which I knew about that film from having watched it before, but I guess I forgot about all that when I asked Ben if he wanted to watch it. Oops. That feeling wore off when Megan and Andrew came back, but was quickly replaced by another weird feeling. I don't know, you guys, but I think I might just start leveling with people. That's terrifying. Perhaps, also why I feel lonely a lot of the time.

This isn't the worst thing, necessarily. I've got a kind of appreciation for the way a little sadness feels. It's not really even sadness, just wanting to listen to Sonic Youth and Echo & the Bunnymen rather than Ted Leo or the Shins. Do you like how much I simplify my situation? Maybe we'll have a little rubric determining my mood based on scarf color/hairdo. (Goody barettes = sporty. Ponytail = efficient. Greasy bangs = tired.)

I THINK I NEED A NEW HEART
I've realized that I don't trust myself anymore. That sounds like either a large thing or a small thing, I guess. It depends on how important you think such things are. I think it's a huge thing, and needs to be remedied immediately. It also means, I think, that I need to work on something new. So, for your benefit and mine, I'm going to make a list of things that I'm going to do. Well, I may pick and choose a little, and I may ask for your help in some of these. But it's time. Also, if you ever read this and make fun of me for wanting to do any of these things, I will fuck you up. This is not up for critique.

Learn to ride a bike, sew my own clothing, grow out my hair, take yoga lessons, buy an electric guitar and write songs, begin my career as a jazz singer, learn how to make linoleum prints, write personal essays, go to more museums, sit in on a few jam sessions at the Crawford, go to California, take more pictures of my friends, write another zine, see more film, learn self-defense, go to a kareoke bar, save money, cook dinners, floss, meditate, write letters to people, try out improv, begin a novel, silkscreen t-shirts, move into a different apartment, travel to places I want to see: Toronto, Portland, Dallas, Vancouver; brush up my German, learn basic French, read all day, be quiet, be loud.

If you can help me with any of these, don't hesitate to sign up. Funding for the electric guitar, bike, or travel expenses may be forwarded directly to me.

THAT'LL BE THE DAY
Believe me, I don't want to join the chorus of voices booing about how much Valentine's Day sucks. In fact, I like the aesthetic of Valentine's Day so much more than other holidays, and I really like making valentines for my friends. The only trouble is that I usually get myself all worked up about the attention of some specific boy who flakes out at the last minute. This is again the case. And Valentine's Day kind of sucked for it. Thank goodness I got to spend most of my time with some other disaffected types; they were the best possible company. I also saw The Triplets of Belleville, which was insane and very good. How am I still upset in spite of my new moisturizing regime (thanks to Carolyn) and the movie and the long weekend? Well, it's an old story and I don't much feel like going into it; I'm sure you're familiar with it yourself.