This morning I drove downtown and stood in a parking lot and watched a 20 story building explode, then drove back home and went back to bed. I went to the library and picked up all my holds, the music I feel duty-bound to document. I fell asleep reading John Ashbery. I finally decided to buy the more expensive mountain bike, but I can’t bring myself to go to the bike store and buy it. The new Smashing Pumpkins album is better than I thought it would be, but still not all that great. Right now some people I know are water skiing, along with some people I don’t know. A stranger wrote a kind comment on my blog, which made me feel embarrassed, and she left me no way to reply. My life never really changed. The blind date was better than I had feared it might be, but still not all that great. The new Interpol album sounds like sitting in a new Mercedes that is stuck in the mud, spinning out the wheels and splattering it everywhere. I’m starving, but I don’t feel like going to any of the restaurants and all I have at home is junk food. It is a beautiful day, but what would be the point of driving up any of the canyons? I need a new pair of shoes for work. I wish someone would get out of the car and push.
It felt really weird to delete a comment that was not unwelcome (in fact I don’t think I would delete much of any comment unless it was spam or advocating illegal or harmful activity), but I had to honor the request.