Mellon Collie and the Infinite...

I love tiptoe hugs because they make me feel like I'm trying to reach you. So I have to stand tall, as tall as possible that I might be on the level as you. Because some days, and some times, you just seem faraway. So I love hugs on tiptoes. And I love midday naps where I know the afternoon sun is on my face but the blanket is still wrapped around my legs like a chain to remind me to stay on earth instead of strange far off daydreams. Then there are the sad love songs that make me so happy because I hope that the writer was so incredibly and deeply in love that the loss was that devastating for him to write a song. He carved words from his melancholy and strung his sighs into a melody. And in his kindness, he chose to share his heartache with me.

But I don't love my words, not a bit, because I don't have much to share anymore.

What it is

Turn on the bright lights

December 11th until the 14th, I'll be in New York City and hoping the city won't swallow me whole, and even if it did, I don't think I'd mind.

December 14th until the 18th, I'll be flag burning in the Capitol. And by flag burning, I mean, well, wishing that Josiah Bartlett was running president because I'd vote for him in a heartbeat.

I'm so excited that I could just take a nap for 10 weeks until December rolls around but I have a feeling that my atrophied limps won't be able to support the walk from terminal to airport terminal.

Date with the night

Live music is absolutely beautiful. It's even better when the musicians are having a good time because you get to experience their happiness in an audio way. I went to see the Yeah Yeah Yeahs last week and Karen O is one crazy bitch on stage and deserves her title of FrontWoman. She exudes insanity and is backed up by insane guitar rifts and beats, so the proof is in the music.

And once more, this was another concert by myself. I'm starting to think all my cool friends are in Seattle, New York or Denver. And speaking of New York, I've been toying with the idea of moving to the City after graduation. So now I'm praying that I can find a job there (please, oh please let this Planned Parenthood internship work out so I can apply for a position at headquarters) and possibly a shanty apartment for a low monthly fee. But all the while, I'll probably starve to death to placate my concert-going desires.

If anything, I just need to master the art of panhandling. "Please, sir, won't you spare me a dime?"