hey baby it's the fourth of july-y (we forgot it's the fourth of julyyyy)

Thurs|07.04

Never cared for this holiday. Fireworks are pretty, though.

the wait child bus stop child late come child hurts

Wed|07.03

Last time I drank an IPA was in a bar on Valencia Street near a giant bagel that hangs in the sky to this day. Wait. Earthquake. No more bagel.

It'll happen. Things fall down. I'm not the first person who's noticed this.

So I was going to talk more about my ceiling. It's a fascinating subject. But maybe I won't. Maybe I'll leave you hanging as to how many hooks are screwed up there, how many small circular indentations can be seen in the length above my bed, as if from the handle of a broom. As if the tenant before me also didn't care for the "soundssss" of the doodler who once lived above us.

"Yes, these are my soundsssss," he said to me when I knocked on his door, dying from the squeech! squeech! CHUGGA CHUGGA zip-zip-sqeeech! of whatever the hell that was. He gestured toward his stereo, which was the only thing in the room, and was sitting on the floor. Aha.

He's no longer with us. What I mean by that is he moved.

It's possible that I'm an enormous ass. I'm not sure which way to look at something. I'll never know which is right, who is right, if there is a right. Who is the MOST right. And why on earth it would matter.

I can be easily persuaded. I was voted most likely to join a cult in the high school yearbook. What I mean by that is I could go both ways.

Wrap me in gauze, set me ablaze, as long as it's for a higher purpose, hey. That's cool.

I believe you.

Heaven, yeah. Okay.

Gone is my arms, gone is my legs, gone is my style, gone is my sauce-ay. Gone is my fingers! Gone is my, my, my imagination.

Nobody else here, no one like me.

[Because I chopped off all me limbs!]

Now that is LOVE, I thought at 13, mishearing that song for the first time. WOW. When a chick'll cut off her arms and legs to get noticed, DAMN. I held a respect for her that I had last directed toward a needle-user in a drug filmstrip.

These ramblings brought to you by my hummus-stung tongue.

Chaka Khan. Chaka Khan.

Tues|07.02

My ceiling is white and crumbly not that it's falling not yet. There is a ridge and I picture it upside down and that ridge would be my bed, and the rest of the place would be approximately five inches lower. It's like a platform bed only it's the ceiling so it will never be.

I lie on my back and see things in the swoopy frosting blah blah blah ceiling, what the hell is it called, the textured ceiling like that? Like it would totally rip up your feet if it were the floor. There must be a name.

But I see all kinds of things in it, that's what's good about the texture. Like, a bat. Like, Jesus. Like, faces. All kinds of faces. Some in profile, some dead on.

Clouds.

No clowns as of yet.

My living room light stopped working and I really need to tell someone. It's not one of those fixtures you can change yourself. I'm not even sure how to get in there, it looks like a window with nine panels only it's a light, and it lasted for four years so that's pretty good. Also I keep thinking no one likes overhead lights, just buy some lamps. But the truth is that I like overhead lights. I apologize for that.

I've been thinking about living underground, in a tunnel or perhaps a cave. But a cave isn't really underground, is it. It's a cave. But I would like a cave by the ocean, without any bugs and with running water. Maybe there could be a waterfall or something that tastes really good and is free from the weird things that would make you sick when you drink water that you don't know how good it is if you know what I mean.

My cat could watch the ocean. She could watch the birds, and feel the breeze, and dig in the sand like a dog. Unless she really doesn't want to, she sure doesn't have to do that. Just an idea.

I've never really liked summer. Maybe when I was too young to know better. I can't remember. I mean I've liked parts of it, moments I remember and sensations I've had, like the fan on your skin when you're just out of the pool, and your head lying on the windowsill as you fall asleep to the leaves and the crickets and the wind.

But as a season, just in general, I don't care for summer.

There, I've said it.