why do i keep feeling like i should call him?...is this normal, is this sane? every sign points the other way, and my ass walks right into the grapevine...

we smoked at the park today, and i'm going to digress for a moment: is anyone watching HBO right now?...at like, 11:30 pm? i've been sitting here, staring at this documentary about a cemetary for the past two hours, and i haven't retained a gosh-darn bit of it...

this girl i know of, and this guy that i know of are fucking like wild antelopes as you're reading...big ones, with ugly shirts and awkward mustaches...boom boom, dynamite...

look at me! i'm making animal references, and i'm not even talking about my ex!...

lynn just signed off...i will miss her...

maybe i won't cry myself to sleep tonight...

my life IS gettting better...

getting dumped is like having your birthday all over again, only this time you crapped your pants in your blind date's car...Reno gave me a couple new pairs of panties, and the ONE lennon CD i don't have...how could i consider myself a fan beforehand, not having an entire copy of Instant Karma up until a few days ago. Joe and I finally went to the Anchor Bar; I had a beef on weck, like a good lil Buffalonian. And even though I might have had the wrong food, I did have the right intention. Ryonce bought me an Elton John shirt, and i'm sure it will mean more to me than he'll ever imagine. Everyone's been rather supportive, for a large group of stoners, and I've been trying to not break down every five seconds, as much as i'd really like to. There is a direct correlation between emotions and appropriate-ness. And right now i'm watching Dr. Doolittle II...I think it's time to go to bed.