Hell. I just noticed that one of the bells fell off my friendship bracelet. I feel like I've lost a part of me.

Monday night we watched an odd horror film called May. I really didn't know anything about it and was somewhat reluctant to sit through it, but being in the company of a woman I relented to her desires. It wouldn't have been polite to insist on Blade Runner or Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS after all. I don't think it is particularly well-written or well-acted but it does have a certain visceral attraction. It moves too slowly without the emotional payoff of something like Tenderness of the Wolves or Kinski's Nosferatu. The film does make some good meta-cinematic points (the blind kids not being able to see what's in the glass box) and despite feeling like it was stretched 20 minutes too long, I got some enjoyment out of it.

I just traded Jenny some Goat Milk for a jar of my lentil soup. She's cool like that.

I just picked an earlier shift at work so I can hang out with someone more often. That's just frightening. I hate mornings.

We watched the Man Who Wasn't There last night. I'm not really a Coen Brothers fan but this one is rather good.

For the quote file: "There's a fine line between tortured romantic and sad bastard, get over her."

In the news today, Bobby Fischer is free and safe in Iceland. He looks haggard and spent. I hope now he can stop running and free himself from the traps his brain has made him.

Also, Kyrgyzstan became the third former Soviet nation to have a civil uprising tear down its government. I wonder how long it will be before Russia reigns in her troublesome children.

"This one a long time have I watched. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph. Adventure. Heh! Excitement. Heh! A Jedi craves not these things. You are reckless!"

"Valerie Loves Me" is stuck in my head. All those 80s songs about unrequited love and tender affections make me cry.

"It's a bloody mary morning"

Watched Female Trouble for the first time in a while last night. I miss having the entire John Waters collection laying around.

John Zachary DeLorean died.

Lentil soup is yummy goodness. I made it with carrots, potatoes, garlic, onions, tomatoes, and bay leaves. I think I should have put in celery and maybe more, smaller cut potatoes. I made way too much, tho', almost 5 quarts worth. Even if my roommate and guests eat some it'll still last more than a week.

Philip Morris is buying Sampoerna for $5.2 billion. I really hope this doesn't affect the cigarettes. Xtras were reformulated not to long ago anyway; they aren't nearly as good as they used to be.

Oh, and I actually asked someone on a "date" of all things. We're going to see Moby. My ideal date usually consists of sitting on the couch with a 12 pack of Newcastle, some German cinema, and maybe a pizza. I'd go to this concert by myself, so it isn't too much of a streach for me.

Where does all the time go? It seems the more I hang out with people, the less time I devote to journaling and digesting the importance of events.

Played the 90s edition of Trivial Pursuit last night over some Natural Light and L'Age d'or. I'm such a geek.

Being broke sucks. Last night, I finished the bottle of mezcal that my friend Mat left on New Year's Eve and Ian got two 40s of Mickey's. I think I might have enough cloves to last through tonight. At least I get paid tomorrow night, so I just need someone to get me drunk tonight.

mo·nog·a·my - n.
1. The practice or condition of having a single sexual partner during a period of time.

Damn, Cocteau Twins backed out of Coachella. Still get to see NIN and Bauhaus, tho'.

Okay, so we managed to avoid the cable getting cut off, managed to get enough cash for a few packs of smokes, had a friend come over with beer (Guinness and 8 Ball Stout, no less), and I'm eating a baked potato. If I can just get around to cleaning the guinea pig cage just about everything would be fine. Well, maybe if my schedule more closely matched that of someone I've been hanging out it'd be better.

Early this morning on the corner of Rock Springs Dr and Smoke Ranch, a drunk driver in a Ford Explorer jumped a curb and smashed into a bus stop. Three people were killed and a fourth is in critical condition.

Wow, still quiet. Saturday night, I went over to a friend’s for a while. Well, I actually spent the night, but whatever. We watched Roman Polanski’s Repulsion. Catherine Deneuve is really attractive; or rather was really attractive. I think she was better in Belle de jour, but this film is still quite something.

“Dinner and a movie” last night consisted of Fritz Lang’s M, some awful film called Cube Zero, and some Taco Bell. Well that and some cheap ass beer and Trivial Pursuit. Quite the active lifestyle, I must say.

I've been quiet here; busy living life instead of writing about it. I'll try to get some gorey details down soon.

Wow, my mom sent me $30 for my birthday.

She picks me up after work. It’d begun to rain again, so I’m happy for the respite from the bus. I’d emailed her the night before and, responding after I got to work, we’d decided to hang out this evening. I was expecting to go to my place, but I think she has different ideas. She was hanging out with my roommate until he blew her off in a rather indifferent, callus way so my place might have been too awkward, even if my roommate was probably elsewhere so we choose to go to her place. We stop by Albertson’s for some beer. She wants some “light” beer; to avoid a beer gut but I insist on something less inane. I can’t afford much so I get a 12 pack of Pabst. PBR isn’t that bad for cheap beer; it’s probably the best of the mass market piss beers. The cashier tells us that the Goth look is going well for us and that 6 beers each won’t be enough. She says I don’t look anywhere near 30. She’s correct about the beer, of course, but I wasn’t expecting to stay up as late as we did. There is a security guard near the entrance of her apartment complex. The gates haven’t been working for some reason and the bourgeois paranoia has set in on some of the residents. She hurls some slurs at the fast food fattened goons she calls neighbors as we slosh through the rain to her door. She and her roommate have a selection of board games; so quaint in this day of high powered personal computers and LAN parties. She has the same edition of Trivial Pursuit as I do (Genus IV) and we begin with that. I think it might be time to buy the 6th edition. She also has a few other games I enjoy. If I’d known I was coming over earlier in the day I would have brought my dominoes (uh, and a change of clothes.) I definitely would have brought a change of clothes. Since I hadn’t known I was going anywhere after work, I was wearing my dorky bulky black sweater over a white Microsoft tee-shirt that we’d gotten a box of when Service Pack II came out. We drink a bit faster than I realize and have to return for some more beer and cloves. She smokes Djarum Blacks, I smoke Sampoerna X-tras, but I have to settle for Djarum Specials, the least desirable of the brands since this store has such a small selection. Returning to her place, we switch to Scattergories; a game I’ve never played before. She’s okay at Trivial Pursuit but I’d won two games in a row and it was time for something else. It’s refreshing to be able to play this game with someone I won’t completely fucking massacre. Scattergories is a little more difficult for me. You roll a die to determine a letter and then have a limited time to think up words that begin with that letter to fit in pre-determined categories. I’m good at crossword puzzles, but not so good at this one or Scrabble. Lateral thinking problems are always more complex. Perhaps I’ll get better. The time flew quickly; it was nearly 4 AM when I glanced at the clock. I try to aim for 2ish for bedtime, but this won’t kill me. It’s too late and we’re too drunk to drive me home, so of course I opt to stay. I haven’t slept in someone else’s bed in a while. Well, plenty of fun I have to say.

Too much to deal with; conflicting emotions, booze, narcotic analgesics and acetaminophen mix poorly on the stomach. I went to the bar last night and wound up puking halfway through my first beer. It was too crowded anyway and the only person I wanted to hang out with wasn’t around. I’m not sure what to expect from that anyway. She comes and goes like an outdoor cat. My birthday was quiet most of the day. We forgot to make the small dolls like we’d planned, but I was stuck in a torpor anyway. A band played at the club, but I was too stupid to really listen to much of anything. I got dropped off at about 2 and just went to sleep, alone. Same time next week?

I don't like myself today.

ugh. birthdays suck.

I can already tell that being 30 is gonna suck. I guess I'll have to wait for 32. (That's a magical number, for those in the audiance.)