cassiopeia

If I ever opened a trampoline store, I don't think I'd call it Trampo-Land, because you might think it was a store for tramps, which is not the inpression we are trying to convey with our store. On the other hand, we would not prohibit tramps from browsing, or testing the trampolines, unless a tramp's gyrations seemed to be getting out of control.

Ah. My life is so amazing yet so heartbreaking right now. They say the best way to inspire yourself to write is either move or break up with whoever you're with. I did the latter. Times two. Literally. It hurts so very much. But the ease at which I can write now is amazing. I am aiming for grandeur with the material that I'm writing. And I will settle for nothing less.


I think the mistake a lot of us make is thinking the state-appointed shrink is our friend.

If karma is real, and I think it is, I think I hit the bad karma lottery. I always hoped to win the lottery some day. Too bad it was this one. Actually. Now that I think about it... it may just be bad luck. A little more than a week ago a black cat crossed the path of my car. Since then I hit a raccoon, a vulture almost took out (honest to God) my windshield, I broke a loved one's heart, my heart was broken by another, my car was broken into and my ipod stolen, AND today I was putting clear plastic on my door because of it lacking a window.... and I cut my left index finger which WOULD NOT stop bleeding for a good hour. And that's just so far. I'm curious as to what the universe has in store for me next. I'm curious to find out. Like a cat. That's why my friend's call me whiskers.

-If you could chose between being the top scientist in your field or having mad cow disease, which would you chose?
-Well. I would have to chose top scientist in my field....
-Oh good. I was worried you'd pick mad cow disease.
-Why would I pick mad cow disease?
-I'm a worrier I guess. That's why my friend's call me whiskers....

God my finger hurts.

But I'm trying not to let it bother me. It's just a window. It's just an ipod. I am not my fucking khakis. Deliver me from Swedish furniture. Deliver me from clever art. It is only after we lose everything that we are free to do anything.

I think a good gift for the President would be a chocolate revolver. and since he is so busy, you'd probably have to run up to him real quick and give it to him.

For now I'll channel all this life bullshit into my writing. It's coming along really well so far. And I even have my next project planned. In February I will be going on tour with a band who are very close friends to me. I will be their merch girl. Also, unofficially, I will be writing a book about their life on the road. You should go check them out.... www.twocowgarage.com And since I HAVE to wait atleast until February to start writing that, I won't be tempted to skip ahead on projects.

I wonder, how is a raven like a writing desk? And does your milkshake really bring all the boys to the yard... or is it just the majority you're counting?