and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

The worst part about blogging is post titles. Pretty much every one of them might just as well be Fuck. A once crude word that has become, for my generation, a catch-all for excitment, boredom, shock, chagrin - whathaveyou.

If friends are sick and tired of hearing my complaints then I myself have got to be doubly so. I'm sick and tired of the running dialogue in my own head re: the girl. I'm done with it, why can't my head be?

I like to live my life on the No Regrets mantra but lately I've been doing some things that I, even in my most accepting of moods, find somewhat reprehensible. Not bad things, just pathetic things. Whiny things. And I know that a gift gained through perscribed pity is no gift at all - is, in fact, a curse.. but like a heroin addict I am drawn to the drug during my darkest hours.

The last time I test drove a car - a Mini Cooper S - my salesman was named Xxxxxxxxxx Xxxxx. I guess he was nice enough but I wanted to punch him in the face for having such a name. Sounds like the sort of guy who works in MI6 and spies for the Russians.

Fucking terrorist.

I drank more beer Saturday then I have in one day for a very long time. Microbrew, too, so I stank like a motherfucker the next day.

Oops. Today, too, apparently.

Had to physically remove myself from the diner on three seperate occasions on Sunday in order to spare all the other patrons (mostly old folks) from my flowery ass bouqet.

Caught the twin towers on Mickey Blue Eyes last night when I was flipping through the channels. Car was crossing into Manhattan and there they were in all their glory and I was momentarily pissed off that it had to be such a big deal that they were even there, in the movie, and that I noticed. So I passed up sex.

Fuck

World is one assfucked place so it's a damn good thing anal sex is so goddamn funny, right Alex?

It snowed again last night. Was maybe 50 this weekend and then it snowed. Going to be maybe 50 today and maybe going to snow tomorrow. I don't know how Tony can figure on Isla Vista being the most beautiful place on earth when there are so many vacous people there sort of filling the space with styrofoam and plastic. I think he might actually like it that people carry surfboards on their escalades as if that were okay. I dunno, maybe I'm just a more angry boy than him. Probably.

Sometimes when something is too easy it doesn't mean as much.

'Round these parts people "roll" in their 1984 Volvo 240 with 252,000 miles, rust, and birks and they're surfing on plywood.. on 10 inch waves.. in 40 degree water.

And it occurred to me this morning as I was driving to work in the beautiful sun that it's all pretty easy. Sorta renders my previous statement null and void. Least I got it for a second.

Why is it every person who buys a new car thinks they got a deal on it?