july

she's a market girl, she'll take it right after you. so dance. and dance. and dance. and dance. she loves those sad sappy sucker songs. well, hey! elliot smith, we love you. seriously though you should trust me. its so hotttt in here, its hot as hades, ladies. maybe we should just turn the fan on. i doubt i told you but i love your graphic tee and scraped up skateboard. its too bad that your phone stopped working. bop, bop, bop, bop, bop, bop, bop bop. what?!?! i know you have a heavy heart. i can feel it when we kiss. those freim-emies will be your undoing. and please, please change the channel before the pitchers give up any more home runs. hopefully one of these days, i'll get a real job, one that actually pays. like my dad did. you know if you stand on that chair, it'll probably break and you don't have money to buy a new one. i like that you only write pseudo-love songs or at least aspire to. is this cryptic? no. probably. my upstairs neighbors are being super loud. and they dance. and dance. and run. and dance. i don't want to take you home. please don't make me sleep alone. if i could i'd only want to make you smile, if you'd stay with me a while. seriously though, lets just kill them with kindness. if you read this whole thing you're a better person than me.

tomorrows july. drink some sangria and watch this:



or my new love:

i was born a unicorn, 

i missed the arc but i could've sworn,

you'd wait for me

this is always in my head and i'm not really sure why.

So I'm watching Alfie. Jude Law is pretty sweet. And dresses killer in this movie.

06.09.08

Its 6:22 in the evening. My face is beat red and my forehead is covered in sweat. I've just completed my (now) daily run, and upped it another half a mile. It is now, laying on my hearted quilt that my grandma painstakingly made 30 years ago (probably), that I question why I did this. Well, My Chemical Romance was blasting in my ear, the sun was shinning, and it frankly just felt needed. Now, I'm kinda wondering if that was a mistake.

As I lay on my bed reading a chapter from the latest book that I'm trying to get into, I hear a low rumbling coming from the apartment complex across the yard. As I put down my book an listen intently I realize that its the happy birthday song being sung. Here's my observation, when listening from distance all you can hear is female voices singing(or almost chanting) happy birthday from a far away distance, with birds chirping and wind blowing, that shit sounds apocalyptic.

But enough about that, chinese left overs are calling my name.

Nadal won the French Open again. He's alright. For some reason NBC replayed last years Wimbledon finals. That shit was tight, dare I say TOO TIGHT? Yes. I hope this years finals are going to be better than Nadal and Federer in this years French Open. Federer is amazing, just not on clay.