The temperature outside is 2 degrees celsius. I'm pretty sure that's the same temperature in my APT, too. And every morning when I wake up, it's colder than it was when I went to bed. I haven't had to deal with this for quite a while as LA nestled me in it's warm bosom and nursed me with 50 degree winter weather. Farenheit, you understand. Not celsius. Anyway, I can't feel my digits, so feel sorry for me.
I drank all the wine on Saturday which lead to me watching about 10 hours of Gordon Ramsey footage on Sunday, proper hungover. For the life of me, I can't explain why. I don't care that much for cooking shows or reality television and any other time I would have said he's a ratings-hungry twat whose job it is to be as annoying as possible. But for some reason I was hooked. Hell's Kitchen, Kitchen Nightmares, Hotel Hell...all of it. It forced it's way into my dreams and batted around my imagination. I can't remember what happened, but...oh well. It happened and it's gone now.
It's my birthday in 115 minutes. I'll be 31. And I think I'll celebrate it by playing E minor and some weird C chord over and over, pretending I'm in a hotel room in Georgia with a bunch of Dylanesque weirdos and blowing their socks off as much as they are mine. Then some super skinny girl with a weird laugh and a half bottle of vodka will come in and fall in love with one of the other weirdos. Then I'll eat the wrong pill and get sick on the floor next to the bed. Then one of the hairier guys will be the only one to ask if I'm okay and I'll take that as my cue to stumble out of the room and into the hallway. On my out, I'll catch a look from Vodka Tiny that I'll mistake as some sort of connection but will really just be a basic level of general human compassion mixed with the face you make when you only first meet someone as they fall out of your ex-boyfriend-who-you're-still-sleeping-with's hotel party room.
Oh, and in the fantasy I end up sleeping in the lobby, never seeing any of those people again despite leaving my jacket on the chair. It's a good'n.
I'm blessed to be around small children all day. They're wonderful. The rudeness, selfishness, stickiness and overall inefficient use of their bodies and minds not withstanding, they're wonderful creatures. I dig it. If only I spoke more Korean...
I have no more for you at the moment. I'm going to go waltz into the first minutes of my 32nd year outside for no good reason.
Always Floating
Toward Heaven,
-LS^2
Can ya blame a kid for
wantin' to eat some tape?
Melissa's gnarled hand.
3 sheets.
Handling it in Hawaii.
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