(no subject)

[bulgy]

March 1, Misha and I are moving into Our First Home, on the most claustrophobic street in all of Brooklyn. I call it "my little hovel", a homey little apartment with adorable touches, that is just a little dark. It makes me feel like an animal in a little den (which just feels right. When I was a wee child, I often pretended to be a baby squirrel and would huddle under my blanket eating hazelnuts). We are painting the walls in color schemes of tomato soup, mushrooms, and a pair of sneakers that I really like (from that UNDERGROUND store on broadway that you could pass right by if you weren't COOL and didn't know was there. while we were there this weekend, one of the dicks who cut misha in line when he was waiting overnight to buy limited edition adidas was also there. (this guy caused a young japanese family to cry, who had come all the way to nyc pretty much just to get some of those sneakers, and who left empty-handed....but would have gotten a pair had he and several others not cut.) I wanted to say something to him, but it would probably come out like "...YOU'RE HORRIBLE." he is one of those "sneaker men", who pretty much spend their whole day going from snobby sneaker store to snobby sneaker store, visiting their friends and probably trying to scam some free shit, those jerks. I find them dispicable!! (They find me a nerd.))

My saddest Valentine's Day sighting: a huge, dopey young man, carrying a large bag filled with heart-shaped balloons and bouquets of roses. Who was all this stuff for?? I couldn't decide if it was sadder to think that it was all for his mother, or if it was all for some girl he was hoping to impress.

I really need to start becoming more sympathetic towards people again.