Beautiful or weird, beautiful or weird, beautiful or weird. Three of the clock in o' morning and I am staring at the silky golden literal lion's mane of a coif on this model, and I am up too late, because it seems like several furry pounds of awesome on one's head.


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     I am warm, it is one:thirty in the morning, and there is a new sheet made from beech trees that is soft like silk but not slippery, like a classy sort of flannel or jersey. To put myself to sleep, sometimes, I think about things and plan about them, and I am happy when I think about most things, but as happy as I am I am still awake tonight. ( Read more... )

     We are so sensitive, all of us ( Read more... )

It may be just me but Trivia Night seems like a dangerous occupation, me beating the tiny wings of my brain against the plate glass window of the world's knowledge. I get all tense, all wound up in the big bass boom of the announcer's voice rattling out the questions, I grip the pen and wish like hell that good penmanship meant smarts about all ( Read more... )

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As hard as I may try, I just can't fall out of love with four-o-clock in the morning. I want to, desperately. Let me live in the day, happy with the sun, and then fall asleep to the light of the silvery moon. The moon, the moon, to the light of the silvery moon. But I can't. I'm too far gone. It's that private ownership, when no one else in the ( Read more... )

The last couple nights I've been paranoid and scared when I've returned home, inventing awful things out of shadows. The house is empty, none of the boys are here. I've got a homeless crazy ex-roomate I've recently thrown out, and the lights next door haven't been on nearly enough to reassure me of the presence of friendly humanity. I keep on ( Read more... )

Tonight was a night for sitting and stirring deeper murky thoughts. Not that the day wasn't positive, not that the day didn't have glorious trips to the beach and sunshine and brie. Just the nightfall, and the falling, and I fell and it's really too bright in the city sometimes. Darkness would be preferred, some sort of pitch black night that ( Read more... )

Oh my. Saturday was a strange day, a strange day indeed. Started out like all those other days, but then developed a serious plot twist. Like on the O.C., you know ( Read more... )

I'd never realized this before, but the problem with living across the street from the best video store on the West Coast, which also serves as home to a large collection of authentic film memorabilia, is that if the necessary alarm system accidentally goes off at almost 1 in the morning, there's no telling when it'll get deactivated ( Read more... )