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.