dance around your folk and soul

I spent an amazing twenty-four hours with an even more amazing someone. You fuckin' fox, you.

You know what's weird? Babies. Lately, that's all I think about. They're like people, except for not. They have no teeth or hair, and they're completely dependant on you. That's what scares me the most about babies - dependancy. It's like, here's this little person who needs you more than anything - what if you can't deliver? I'd want to give my baby the moon and the stars and everything beautiful. There are creatures whose children float away at birth, and those who throat-feed their young for weeks and never see them again...I'm so hormonal. deep sigh

You know what else is weird? Alcoholism as a disease. I'm not saying that it's not bad, I'm just saying that it's not correct to call it a disease. Does anyone choose to have cancer? No. However, people do choose to start drinking. And it's not like you can call in to work and be like "Hey, guys, I'm not going to be able to make it in again today - my alcoholism is acting up. Peace." If that were the case, I'd be shitfaced 3/7 nights a week. Or not. We've all heard the stories.

I felt really weird today, so I went for a highly therapeutic drive to the outskirts of nowhere and back. I also downed a 24oz. blue slushie. That's more sugar than I'm going to need for an entire year. You know, I regret that more than the half tank of gasoline I used/abused. It's cool, though - the bitchmobile's got the soul of a highly fuel-efficient Asian sports car. She's good.

Let me tell you what's really good, though: early '90s station wagons. I'm looking at you, Emily. And on that note, ciao.