noteworthy:
- bought a red leather ottoman today. i needed it. which is strange, because... it's an ottoman. i technically could have used a freakin' milk crate and gotten roughly the same effect. however, my vow is to get rid of the orange 70's chair that i sort of never liked to begin with and never used. i'll use the hell outta a red leather anything. plus it was on craigslist.
- kinda got around to start studying spanish again. figure there's no reason to study something for that many years and not be pretty much fluent. bonnie has spoken about going to spain. of course, she's an idea lady, that bonnie. so i'll believe it when i see it. she's also talked about building a ball pit in the living room using packing peanuts, a hot tub in her room using a giant tupperware-type container, starting a zine with me several times and organizing her room. while i was repeating spanish words and phrases to myself i wound up being hypnotized by shoes on amazon. i bought a pair. they were fifteen dollars! and i'm depressed. and i'm justifying myself to no one...
- i've been sick. it's stupid. i had four days off in a row and three of them i was sick and in bed. not that i didn't want to be in bed mind you. i can just think of better things to do than blow my nose and be a brat. i've only had three cigarettes in four days and even though i want another one, i shouldn't because the cold has now moved into an annoying and deep cough. at least i get that sexy throaty voice thing. well. it sounds that way to me so hurrah!
.... i don't know man.

i feel like a loser tonight. bonnie and ek were at a party in bernal earlier and then they went straight to a tamale party in the mission. i'm sure it's fun but i didn't feel much like conversation earlier (and i'm grubby) so i opted out. i said i was going to work on the atom bomb poem. i've only gotten as far as opening the word document.
anyhow, i figured i'd at least see miguel or make it to mars (a friend has a show, the venue is called mars) but it's rainy and freezing and crappy outside and i don't feel like going all the way to soma and mig's out with friends. so xandra and i have been staying inside my house, just hanging out. we're both restless.
neither of us feel like doing anything.
it kinda sucks.
and really the last thing that sounds good is to fight across town, through rain and drizzle to get to a crowded bar or to try and make conversation at a party when i just feel like being quiet. so i guess i spend another saturday night wandering around the house, berating myself for not writing more and smoking too many cigarettes. which is actually not that big of a deal when you consider that most people who are out on saturdays are not out during the week. and i am. plus, i'm trying to conserve funds. plus, i'm a lazy bastard.
but i still feel lame for not making the attempt to be social. i'm all discouraged about writing so it's been really hard to sit down for hours at a time and when you're done, you look and see you've written the same pedantic bullshit you always do. blech. what fucking nonsense. plus, who am i to complain that i've got a quiet, cozy saturday night?

so.
tonight i am playing bonnie.
sitting in her room smoking cigarettes because i dumped a cup of tea on my laptop which has yet to resecutate itself and smoking.
her space bar sucks.
my computer being fucked up due to my own clumsiness sucks.
highlights:
i applied for a job i really want.
the jukebox at bonnie's work was playing letter in a bottle by the police which made me think of the time that miguel sang it at 16th/mission. he's got a good voice. it was a while ago but i remember.
reading a really good book that kinda keeps me in this weird mood. i may have to read it quickly because i'm not sure how i feel about a book putting me in a frame of mind so completely.
the book is the lovely bones.
work is stupid, there are ashes all over bonnies rug.
my tattoos are healing better since i bought a & d ointment.
i'm going to make the soup that kat taught me to make.
it's cold but not terrible yet.
i haven't been able to finish my atombomb poem yet. but i know the title. "now we're all sons of bitches"
one racer 5 on an empty stomach is enough to gain you a sense of humor.