kitten!-Wednesday, Jul. 07, 2004 @ 1:10 a.m.

iím getting a kitten! heís 8 weeks old and cute as can be. erica got him a few weeks ago, but she canít take care of herself and her kid, let alone a kitten. i knew we had to get him when i was over at her place the other day and she threw the poor thing across the room because he was trying to play with her toes. you donít do that! it doesn't know any better and throwing the helpless thing across the room certainly isnít going to help. sheíd mentioned something about not wanting him anymore so i said weíd take him. dadís recording in the basement until tomorrow, so hopefully i can go pick him up tomorrow night. but i need to rename him. she named him tyler, and iím too fond of that name. although i could say heís named after tyler durden... but iíd rather just find a better name.

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so mr. married man called me 5 times today and followed me around work light a lost puppy. i told him that i didnít feel like talking to him about things, that weíd talk later. there were just too many people at work today. god, and i just donít want to deal with it. i just wish it would go away. i donít want to write about or think about or anything....

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i emailed david, what... on thursday of last week? maybe friday.... and i havenít heard back from him. i had a dream about him today. it was strange and i canít even explain it very well. it was so abstract, but basically what it boiled down to was him telling me he loves me and that he wants me to move down to where he is because heís gotten over his insomnia and all he wants in the world is for me to fall asleep beside him. the dream felt so warm and right and i was so happy to hear him say that, but when i woke up, i realized that heís gone, 16 hours away and iíll probably never hear from him again.

he kills me. even when heís not here he kills me.

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iíve been watching the ashlee simpson show on and off for a few weeks. itís painful yet amusing. she keeps saying i want to be punk, i want to be rock, i donít want to be pop, i donít want to be my sister. i hate to tell her that not matte what her music sounds like, sheís going to be exactly like her sister. you know why? because sheís nothing but an image. the ramones could have made the exact same music, but if they had puppet masters telling them what songs to write, how to write them, how to play them, what to wear, how to fix their hair and what to say then they been nothing more than a jessica simpson themselves. or more rightly, backstreet boys, or some crap. it really doesnít matter what the music sounds like. itís what's behind the music. itís how you live your life. itís about why you write your music.

and i know, i know, every band thatís signed to a label has someone telling them what to do. but you know, for some reason, i give strung out and sparta and even blink 182 a little more credit than ashlee simpson.

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speaking of music, thereís a festival up at on of the parks on saturday. itís a day long concert with over a dozen local bands. one of my new favorites, stuck in kaos in going to be there. iíd better get the day off or iím gonna be livid.

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i'm trying - Tuesday, Apr. 26, 2005
... - Wednesday, Mar. 30, 2005
- - Tuesday, Aug. 31, 2004
baby doll lips - Friday, Aug. 20, 2004
unwanted hiatus - Thursday, Aug. 12, 2004