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Sleep, what? So Katie spent the night. Charlie's Angels was...to be expected. Good for one viewing, wouldn't want to see it again, but I got to hear Jack White's voice for about 3 seconds, so all was good. After some fun people-watching at the movie theater, which was hopping with teenage mutant Abercrombie clones making out in the parking lot, jacked up trucks blasting Eminem in the background, and the occasional shell-shocked elderly couple, we went home and had some quality conversation with my parents over While You Were Out. We watched infomercials, SNL reruns, and Conan, and ate ice cream and cold pizza. At one point we found my bongo drums, a beret, some sunglasses, and a scarf, and took turns reciting open-mike style poetry about such things as carrots, waterfalls, and the various states of our souls. I performed an interpretive dance.I felt old today. That kind of old that you think you're going to feel when you're ten, looking forward to being a teenager. But once you're that age, you just feel...your age. Not really different. I had this brief moment when I thought to myself, "Hey, I'm a teenager. Hell, I'm a high schooler. Heh." I'm in an angst-ridden whine-rock mood today. I've been hitting the Dashboard Confessional with a vengeance. No reason to be broody, I just felt like it. There's something about those songs that makes you feel like you've just gone through a horrible breakup, and it's more than the lyrics. I think hiding subliminal messages to make us all feel gloomy so we buy his CDs and come to his concerts and wave lighters. You can't hear it, but your brain picks up on him telling you, "Your boyfriend or girlfriend left you/cheated on you/is not talking to you/is depressed. You are also depressed, and socially inept. You feel the need to write bad poetry about your sad, sad life. Kittens die. People suck." And then I snap out of it and go watch Just Married! Do you ever do that thing where you see a movie, and afterward you subconsciously feel like you're that person? For instance, you see an ass-kicking movie and you come out wanting to kick someone's ass? AI was in the mood for some Brittany Murphy-esque mannerisms and semi-witty banter after watching that. I think it's best I keep that to myself until I'm over it. After Chicago I wanted to shoot someone. After The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, I wanted a gay boy friend. But wait, that's all the time. Sigh. I envy you, Sammie and Cait. *Psst.* I lied up there, it's really almost 4 in the morning right now. 2003-07-19 @ 11:03 p.m. |