http://intoanother.net --> Act natural
 

( Saturday, Feb. 01, 2003 4:36 pm )

>"All you gotta do, is ring the bell..."

So early this morning I awoke out of a semi-fever dream that I was Anise and a single mother of three and found that my neckache was just killing me and I could not get comfortable enough to fall asleep. So early this morning I got to lie awake for around an hour and take stock of my life and wait for the Aleve to kick in. My point is that today I'm really on the borderland of sick and dependent on aspirin and moody music for survival. I didn't even do anything to my neck, I don't know why it's so sore.

I just got finished watching Stealing Beauty (or as I like to call it, Who Should Deflower Liv Tyler?) on Bravo. Luckily, she has her nice first time with not the creepy lecherous men surrounding her, but with The Only Nice Boy in Tuscany. The whole thing reminded me in a depressing way of the summer when I was 19, only instead of an artist's colony in Italy, I got to hang around with elderly women in northeastern Pennsylvania. Unlike Liv's, my nubile cuteness went entirely to waste. But then isn't that the story of my life? Really, I swear, I'm just going to sit around reading the Bronte sisters for-goddamn-ever and that's fine.

Oh, so Ellie's faux-date with the young man (now summarized as "flaky like pastry" rather than "cute like a mohair suit") fell through last night, so I didn't have the babysitting crisis I was expecting, though she did engage me to watch Baby Boy on Monday. I really need to get a job, man. Also a life. Oh man. I've had several long conversations with her in the past couple of days, standing on our stairs just as I used to do with Ruby and Stinky last year, which is nice, although at one point she did say something like "internet personals are for losers" and I felt the nice embarrassment flowing from my toes to my cheeks. Ha. Oh well. I am a loser, but it works for me, really. I also have these fantasies now about finding Ellie a nice sensitive sweater-wearing liberal at Fake Church.

Have I told you that Van Morrison "Astral Weeks" is my form of therapy? It's seriously good for a number of mental ailments. Especially, in the song "Ballerina," when he does an unexpected improv bit, and calls out "TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES!" for no apparent reason. I love that. How do you make "take off your shoes" sound soulful? I don't know, but he does it.

<< - >>

( current ) ( archive ) ( notes ) ( rings ) ( email ) ( profile ) ( design ) ( diaryland )