help! help! i'm being repressed!
<<2002-02-23 - 3:50 pm>>

when i was a kid, i was told repeatedly that sneezing was rude, so i learned to muffle my sneezes into tiny little squeaks that provided me no relief from my sneeze-urge at all. however, i am alone in the house, and i just sneezed so loud my cat had a freak attack and bolted. it was awesome.

anyway, today i had to go to "saturday school" for three hours and do my goddamn homework. i finished all of it in the first half hour and the other 2 and a half were spent writing my blur/coldplay fic which i'll continue typing later today.

so anyway, my mom's away, and my friend jennifer is staying with me. she's so awesome. after sat school was over she brought me to costco. it was so hilarious, she was sooo excited. before we went in, she turned and looked at me and said "you haven't lived until you've done a run-through of costco. HOLD ON TO YOUR HAT." so we went in and it WAS NUTS. it was like a freakin utopia. i couldn't believe my eyes. so we got hotdogs (they had a stand INSIDE the store) and walked all the way through the giant, awe-inspiring place and bought some stuff - a couple practical things, and then a HUGE ASS MOFO bag of gummi bears. i couldn't stop giggling. and then after that i went with her to newbury comics and got MORE cds - coldplay, oasis, muse (YAY but i don't think it's the right cd... how many cds does muse have?), something from a new band called zero 7 (my friend drew recommended it), aaaand my personal new favorite - "songs for my sweetheart the drunk" by jeff buckley. i was reading the sleeve and i just started crying because he died and it's just really unfortunate and makes me so angry... i mean... why couldn't someone unimportant and less beautiful like britney spears have died? no one would miss her in six months time. but jeff buckley... i dunno. it's sad. it's terrible.

phew.

so anyway, i sat in the living room and listened to my coldplay singles (i finally caved in and bought that 25 dollar cd that had parachutes and the cd with "careful where you stand" on it) with jennifer and we talked about music and how i wanted to be a songwriter and sam's band and her brother and stuff like that. and she told me a story. i'm gonna tell it like she said cuz it's cool that way.

"once, my brother went through this really big jimi hendrix phase. that's ALL he would listen to for... i dunno... months. so anyway, one day at school he had to go on a field trip. the bus driver was black and he knew, like, everything about jimi. so my brother and this guy started talking, and the guy asked him, 'so do you listen to jimi hendrix?' and my brother said 'no... i hear him.' and then they had this really awesome conversation cuz the driver knew, like, everything about jimi hendrix."

isn't that shibby? i wish i could say stuff like that without thinking. i guess it's true. i listen to jeff buckley, but i hear him, with more than just my ears, you know? it's like... it goes down deep and leaves a mark and stays forever. that's what i find lacking in the strokes. good music, yeah, makes you feel good - but it wears off. the novelty's gone too fast. coldplay, jeff buckley, vast, stuff like that... it's beautiful and it makes you think and it makes you search your soul and more than once, it made me sit up late at night crying and thanking whoever was up there in heaven for the fact that i'm alive.

i want to know where jeff's grave is, i want to go visit it someday and thank him...