say what?

In case you're wondering why the time of this entry is "Goddammit", it is because it is currently 3:36:21, and I need to be up in about three hours, preferably less.

I have a habit of doing this. Did you realize? If you haven't yet, realize it now. I. Have. A BAD habit. Of staying up very late.

You know that little gold dragon on my page? It's fucking not appearing. Stupid geocities. Idiots. To see it, you need to load another page on this site (like, say, the old-entries page) and then back-button. It'll appear then. It's quite dumb that way. I'm sure Geocities can be circumvented with a little clever programming, but I'm too lazy to try and anyway programming is not by far my forte.

Remember that weirdass dream about stuck jaws and crunching teeth? I had it again. Twice, actually, in the last month. Yeah, it's been more than a month since I've written and I had the fucking dream twice. What does it mean? It's freaking me out. It's a very disturbing dream, trust me.

Hmm, there was something I wanted to say but I can't remember what.

At the top of my screen, there is an ad banner showing some guy's ass in briefs next to the slogan "viagra for the digital age". Do I even want to know?

No. I do not.

My ex-girlfriend's coming to town soon. I don't know what to do about her. Ex's are tough, especially when you parted amicably with a promise to "see how things are" in 6 years, at the end of your residency. Well, my residency ain't over, and technically, neither is our relationship. It's on hold. But I'm with someone else now, as you probably know, and that just...

...sucks.

Whatever. We'll see what happens. I'm responsible, I'm an adult, I can handle this. Friends. Just friends. Stuff like that.

I meant to write something tonight. I really did. I can't for the life of me remember what.

I think it's the ass at the top of my screen. It's very unnerving. I'm gonna scroll it up off my screen. There. Much better.

I have a cat balanced atop my head. I'm not kidding. Spaz. The girl. She's on my head.

Oh, God, I'm gonna be so fucking tired tomorrow. Later today. Whatever.

This song I'm listening to, Vertical Horizon's Best I Ever Had, it's reminding me of what I wanted to talk about, or maybe it's the one that made me wanna write in the first place. It's something I want. I can't remember. Jesus, this is annoying. Not just something. It's not a thing. It's like...something more abstract, you know? Love, probably, it probably has something to do with some other bizarre tragic love scenario my overtired brain has cooked up.

A few nights ago they said you might be able to see the Northern Lights in California. I forgot why, but I went out that night and looked, and I didn't see them. Someday I'll go see the Northern Lights, though.

Oh! I remember. It's not that song. It's this song. Uncle Kracker, "Follow Me"--download it if you don't have it and listen to it MORE THAN ONCE. The first time, you'll be like, "eh". After that, you'll be hopelessly hooked.

It's about having an affair. In a kinda lighthearted, upbeat way. Or something? No, that's not right...

Well, listen:

All you know is when I'm with you, I make you free
And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea.

Best line in the song. But it needs the rest to make sense. So download it. Or let me know, and I'll send you a copy.

But that's not the point, see. The point is, I think I wanna have an affair with a married woman, maybe five years older than I am. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. It's past 3am; Damon's on his weird Id-rant again. But I'm serious. I think that would be nice. You know, storybook-style.

Woman's a little older than the man, married but unhappily to some rich dude. Maybe there used to be magic there in her marriage, but not anymore. And then I come in. Maybe I'm the lawnmower or something like that, who knows how we meet, but it happens, you know? Making love in the summertime with the windows wide open and the white curtains billowing. White sheets. White walls, high white ceiling. Early evening outside, the sky's that shade of blue it turns before it turns black. Stars are coming out. Crickets. Pool's reflecting light up in dappled shades to the ceiling.

The affair'd last all summer, see. You get the torrid bits on the hot nights when the hubby's away on business or something. All over the house. By the fireplace. In the kitchen. On the desk in the study and on the couch in the den. On the goddamn porch, upside down from the chandelier and all sorts of craziness like that. And you get the secret giggling trysts in the hedgerows. And of course the white-sheets thang. But then end of summer, husband finds out, begs wife to go back to him, promises he'll be a good husband this time, stuff like that...

She falls in love with him again...they fall in love with each other, rekindled flame and stuff like that.

And I'm outta luck.

I wonder why my little scenarios always end with me and my broken heart. Maybe I haven't had my heart broken yet so I'm determined to see what it feels like. You know, morbid curiosity. More likely it's because it's 4am.

And since it's 4am, I'm going to bed. Next diary entry will be more interesting, hopefully. Heh.

Chill.