"Not knowing what you want to do is like pumping gas in Montreal on New Year's Eve. It's the worst. Everyone around you is applying lipstick in their rearview mirror, en route to a party, wearing unseasonably skimpy sequined ensembles under big beaver coats while your hand cramps up as you clutch the high-octane nozzle. They're tossing cigarettes out the window capriciously-unconcerned about the 80 million gallons of gasoline stored under the convenience mart. These revelers don't give a damn. Their life has a sound track of good music, which you hear when they roll down the window just wide enough-literally-to squeeze out a Discover card. You life's sound track, on the other hand, is cued to your customer's snow tires." -Katy McColl, "Should I Do What I Love? (Or Do What I Do-So I Can Do What I Love on the Side)"
its been awhile. superbowl 32-amazing! what was with that lizard commercial? i advise everyone to get this book. until next time...
i still can't get over this. a couple weeks back someone kicked in the door of my house in jackson and stole the following: my shotgun, my dads shotgun (both leaned again the case that my dad's RIFLES were in, aka REAL weapons, idiot), and my dad's grandfather's shotgun (the only thing that was left to my dad, sentimental value and all). i was out of town when this occured and was told that that was all that was taken. i came home to survey if this was true or not. my boombox was there (does anyone call it that anymore?), my stereo, my tv, dvd player, ipod, my mom's chanel purse, bla bla expensive stuff etc. all remained except THIS:
my bedside table drawer? you horrible pervert! full of pictures, keepsakes, NOTES FROM MY DEAD GRANDMOTHER, more pictures. you know, all the things that would appeal to an individual devoid of all morals that breaks into your house.
ironic: my dad harrased the police department to the point that they sent him to the head of the dept and he ended up cracking an unsolved burgarly ring involving our no-morals guy (who was on survalience tape robbing the HABITAT FOR HUMANITY BUILDING but couldn't be identified).
even more ironic: the man that robbed our house was michael, the 40something crack fiend that my dad has been donating clothes, grocery money and friendly advice to for the past 5 years.
the morale of this story is 'no good deed goes unpunished.' the end.
other than that nothing new. rush was rush. it set me back a year academically. i'm doing worse this semester than i did my first semster up here. you know how bad that is. i'm ready for cold weather. i like sour skittles. i like you too.
