Happy Birthday M

M’s birthday. I hadn’t called her on the phone for weeks (even though we chat online every day), so I did. She said it was gonna be her “lucky year,” whatever that is. I hope so. I hope she makes it huge. She told me she thinks big things are going to happen to the both of us. Something’s coming and it will be wonderful.

What’s in a name?

What’s the deal with the name of this blog? you may ask. And well you may.

It’s from a Paul Simon song from an album he did, years ago, like, before the time I was born. I got into this album, which is called One Trick Pony, and the song is called “How the Heart Approaches What it Yearns”.

I like Paul Simon. I don’t care what my friends say. They think the music I like is by “old people.” Fuck that. Some “old people” music is good.

Freaking tons of school work to do, work work is dragging me down, and there’s no joy in Yum-Yum Town.

Girl of the Week

Things with SH are getting mundane and I’m sure it’s my fault. I listen to LO and MS and how they get tired of their boyfriends. As if it’s the boyfriend’s fault when you get tired of them. That, as my daddy would say, is bullcorn. I’ve been focused on school, focused on graduating, focused on other things. It’s not his fault. Maybe I should visit Ann’s and get myself in a more romantic mood. I will, in a few.

Did I mention I made Girl of the Week? Well, I did. I was actually thrilled, even though it isn’t that big of a deal.

I mention to “Maggie” that this Amber_Guppy chica is like, getting to be the Next Big Thing, what with getting the award like, every other week. She goes, “Oh Amber, yeah, she’s my protegée.

She has more than one protegée? I thought I was her only one!

Grow up, Miz Limelight.

As the tank drains my credit rating…

A buck 79. That’s what I paid for a gallon of gas today. It wouldn’t have been so bad except I needed 15 gallons. Last year (Jan 04) I paid a buck 58. Next year...? All it would take for gas to get to $5 a gallon is another war, another pissed off regime, and/or another natural disaster. Like if the Big One hits California.