god i've just been cryin all over the place this week. cryin cuz i'm happy, watching the making of almost famous thinking about purity and youth and rock n roll when it meant something and really actually doing the thing you love. watching all kinds of great movies lately, got a job at blockbuster and five free rentals a week is what i'm eating over here, a job that feels good but pays nothing, no money lying around for nothing, oppressive but not enough to make you cry. cryin at good love for movie screens, dying next to each other kind of love, walking hundreds of miles to be with you and take you in for ten minutes of a lifetime kind of love. cryin thinking about what i'm going to need to do to get off the treadmill of my life and really go somewhere, move somewhere real, do something bigger. i was completely convinced for a week that i was moving to new york to become a dog walker and break into the film business and live with frank. it's a fantasy and maybe it'll happen and maybe it won't and maybe it'll turn out terribly and maybe it won't but it looms over me as a beacon egging me out into the world. fear of film school next semester and trying to be creative for the first real time in my life. SHIT. cryin because the weight of the world crashes onto you when you watch an iraqi woman sobbing and screaming at god and at the americans that destroyed her village and killed her people, i quieted my breathing as much as i could, i tilted my head up and back against the seat so my neighbors couldn't see me, i wanted relief from that so bad, i'd just begin to handle myself but she just keeps wailing and i can't hold back that kind of shame, incredible shame, no matter how much it's not my doing, just being affiliated with that makes me nauseous and i can't come to terms with it. that's not a lie, he didn't make that up, he didn't exaggerate that, fuck all the rest. cryin when i think in that theatre what would happen if bush won in november, the defeat of it, the fear of that and what it could bring and how vulnerable and lost everything would feel, would make me just break down. now cryin to think how many people saw this movie this weekend, how many will keep seeing it, how well it's doing in red states (!), how some theatres are advertising they're not "enforcing the rated R policy" for it, how it could really maybe affect this election and for that michael moore can be forgiven all his past wrongs and the ones in the future because this is a priceless thing he's possibly given us. here's to hope for the future. here's hoping for my future.

to the permanent pain in my ass: happy birthday. and hurry up and talk to axel and get back to me already.

So Jenn and I are going to see
THE CURE
INTERPOL
THE RAPTURE
MOGWAI
THURSDAY
MUSE
CURSIVE
MELISSA AUF DER MAUR
COOPER TEMPLE CLAUSE and
HEAD AUTOMATICA
on July 25th in Tampa with the Curioso Tour.

OH MY GOD

yesterday:

the armrests here say "diet pepsi" - huh? i'm writing on a napkin in the Altamonte 8 movie theatre because i have 10 minutes before Dogville starts and i've already taken 5 to walk around and around this empty theatre and sit in a dozen seats to test different views and find one that won't squeak - a daunting task! i am at home here. this is my church, this is my sanctuary, my god lives here. when i write like this, impromptu like a lunatic, i feel like a writer, that this is what they are, this is what they do, my brethren, and maybe that's it for me. writers are supposed to be snobby and better than everyone else. i'll fit right in. and they won't fire you for it! they may not buy it but at least you can chalk that up to subjectivity and never fully believe you're shit. so i, the academic overachiever used to being the best at whatever i try hard to do, have now been fired twice in under a month for jobs that idiots around me seem to excel at - cut to anthony michael hall's shop class horrors in the breakfast club - and i can't scream at them that they're morons who wouldn't know a good thing if it slapped them in the face and i'm going to be IT one day! because i don't know that, and really i'm too busy being crushed because maybe, just maybe, i deserved it and there's a curse following me around that says i'll be between complete shit and just good enough at everything i do, failure is out there waiting for me to lap it up, boys waiting to reject me, to laugh in my face, gag behind my back - people are just waiting in line to hurt me, to disappoint me, to punish me for all the terrible thoughts i've laid way to. and there will be just enough good to give me that blessed false sense of security, he smiled, he called, just enough to give me the hope to start all over again and again but that's just hilarious to whoever's pulling the strings to head me towards my end. no one really, a cold universe that feels warm sometimes but only because someone peed in it. dammit. goddamn good memories always colored black by what happened afterwards. but here i go again.

mm..rufus' "pretty things" is so wonderful.. somebody download these songs i'm talking about and tell me what you think of them, it's fluttering heart material.

well what's happening to me.. i want to ask will: why do you keep putting these sappy song lyrics around, who are you singing to? what dawson's creek-esque drama are you trying to stir up? he and i might move in together sometime by the end of the year. wouldn't that be interesting! yes, i thought so. will is also one of the last to see eddie izzard.. he is an izzard virgin, i want to break his cherry.

you sound like you're doing super, frank. that's so cool. but i'm pissed, i wanted to come the third week of june for "fixe prixe" week at the lovely restaurants, oh well. snow it is! ugh i might still try to come sometime this summer tho, i really really really want it so badly. i've read all through my NY for Dummies book and i am PREPARED. i have this wonderfully romantic idea of summer in new york.. lounging around central park, the free concerts, the jazz clubs in the village, the Met, warm days and breezy nights under the neon.. oh i long for it.

margaret cho is the queen of gay men, it's great. i just watched Notorious C.H.O, funny stuff. her mother impressions are the best. i miss axel, i never speak to him except when it's one of our birthdays or when we want to go to a concert together. it's summer, this should be axel time! he doesn't read this thing anymore so i'll need to call him.. i loved how juan jumped on him on the couch at alan's last year after not seeing him for forever. axel, you are loved!

and kristin. we started talking the other day online but i usually don't feel like talking to people online so i rarely do, and she's down even less. maybe this is the time for me and axel to go up there and be north carolinans. get drunk in the woods. wear flannel. i miss them.

here's what i want for my birthday: all the people i like together in one abode getting along and listening to good music, dancing even! i want kristin and axel, jenn, will, brian, mandy, george clooney, juan, whoever juan's dating, frank, rebecca, marianna, jonah fathead! (i want them in the same room to talk to them both because she always said how sweet he was and i want his take on this, i'm intrigued by him), marianna's cool friends, ewan mcgregor, bonnie, niko, rachel, kim, kelly, and all those lost high school girls and boys, jude law, nate and gary from school who i'll probably never see again unfortunately, raudebaugh because i keep thinking he's flirting with me at these parties and i kind of like it, cliff, chino, brock, mark, i know i don't know them terribly well but i enjoy their company, johnny depp.. and i guess alan could come, but he'd have to not piss me off. there's probably more. and if we could do it in our high school cafeteria to a sock hop DJ.. there are dreams.

so i saw Bubble Boy yesterday because my love for jake gyllenhaal knows no bounds.. and it's hilarious. complete shock. someone told me a long time ago it was great and i didn't believe them. when he tries to beat down his erection i nearly fell off my bed.

go download those rufus songs. downbeat: pretty things, tower of learning. upbeat: movies of myself, oh what a world, beautiful child. GO

"how can you offer me love like that? my heart's spent. how can you offer me love like that? i'm exhausted, leave me alone."

i've just finished my fifth 11-hour work day at the kennel and my legs are spent. my feet are finished. i feel like a person waiting to be an amputee, saying goodbye. they are in unbelievable discomfort pretty much all the time now, it's amazing. it's actually worse when i'm sitting or laying, somehow. it feels like that thing where your leg is a little stiller than usual and you suspect it may be asleep but you haven't moved it to feel those terrible tingles and just thinking about it makes you realize they're right around the corner, your limb is fucked. this is difficult. people, when you want to go out of town for a holiday, take your dog to a fucking friend's or something.

i'm drunk on rufus.. the tower of learning: "all the sights of paris fell inside your iris".. i realize the lyrics are not nearly so lovely without the way he sings them, so download them already. Want One is the best album. it feels like i am a grownup listening to grownup music.

will's party was great for like five minutes. i drank and ran. tired. stephanie is a cool girl and we keep hitting it off at these things, and she has promised me a cute-and-smart-and-interesting rugby player at her gainesville house party in august. hm. i'll take one of those.