It’s Saturday night and my friends are calling me so we can go get high or drunk. It’s the now day-to-day ritual we hold. We’re “grown up”. But it all feels lost, ridiculous. I don’t want to go out, I want to be at home. So yes, I’m going to spend my whole Saturday night watching Elvis movies with my mom, because we haven’t hung out in a long time. I owe her a lot, for so many things. But the one thing I owe her most for is things like this. When I was a little kid up late at night with a fever, she’d always put on an old film and we’d watch it together. She’d buy me Patsy Cline cds. She’d pick me out western shirts and old movie posters at antique stores. She’d take me barefoot to the park to catch frogs by the pond. She shaped me into the hopeless romantic I am today, and honestly I’m so happy for that. I often see life in black and white, stage lit glances between two people, a soft overture playing in the background. And I owe that to her. I also often see life as a settler on the open plains, tan skinned and happy eyed, ready for a hard day’s work. And I owe her for that. I get lonesome and listen to patsy and sigh at the train whistling by out my window. And I owe her for that. I get sentimental over everything, I’m a big cheese ball. And I owe her for that.

Finally! Not only is my new coworker my age. Not only is my new coworker a girl. She’s also really funny, likes good music, and is just awesome to work with. Finally. Thank you.

That sick tapestry I hung up in my room was laughing at me. The trees were snakes, giggling like evil demons from my window. The fan turned out to be my nemesis. But the birds were my friends. The smoke on the final exhale turned orange and bubbly. The freckles on my arms were moving around like tiny dancers on ice. Smoking dmt in the morning. Always a horrifyingly beautiful way to start the day.

I’ll admit Norah Jones is on my stoned playlist.

“Love feels good when it sits right down. Puts its feet up on the table and it pass the bowl around.”
I’ve never thought about these lyrics, as I’ve listened to the Old 97s since I was a little kid. So I never thought about it. But it occurred to me tonight what those lyrics were, and it made me happy.

Oh lord it’s great to have Connor Haley back in town. We got stoned and watched Apocalypse Now. I’m still amazed he’d never seen it, being that he has the best movie taste in the world. That opening scene with the Doors and the fade ins of war and the ceiling fan. Oh lord, that movie is haunting and great.