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Going back into my real life kicking and screaming.

Rehearsal last night, up until 2 a.m. because of the Irish Coffee, sitting on the couch while M. played Dragonball Z on the PS2, chattering wildly to him about boys and sex and figuring out what I want, figuring out patterns both good and bad, reluctantly admitting that I don't always make the best choices when it comes to boys. That maybe there's something lacking in me because I like the wanting so much, the edge of uncertainty. The ones I've turned away have always been the ones I was too sure of, and I've a sense that reality and sanity fall somewhere in between those extremes. There's always a point where the wanting starts to hurt too much, with that feeling of futility, the way it can lay you flat, spent with wanting. Not sexual want so much as simply longing. And it feeds itself, circles and cycles until it's the feeling you understand far more than the person.

shaye!!! Thank you for putting the tracks from For the Birds up. I've listened to it before, but because I have Set List, I've been primarily thinking of the songs in those terms, but the sort of calm quiet of the studio versions of Lay Me Down and Santa Maria have such a different flavor, and you're right, the sense of the words being whispered into your ear is just sort of sexy and haunting and lovely.

Bought Jolie Holland's album Escondida and it's really fabulous, sort of ukelele alternative carnival pop. She's got this throaty voice, this sort of whiskey sweet slur and tells these tiny stories in every song. One of my favorite lines is, "A boy with a real live love affair with a train."

Hee, my stepmother really does have the patience of Job sometimes. Driving me to the airport, my father in the passenger seat and he insists on bringing his Ventures CD with him which is surf music (and I found out that it's called surf music because many of the songs were about surfing, which is just hysterical because I listen to Dick Dale or The Astronauts and think, "This doesn't make me think about surfing." However, it doesn't make a lot of sense because there aren't any words for most of the songs). Anyway, a little surf guitar goes a long way if one is not a teenage boy with dreams of becoming a guitar god and my stepmother looks at my dad and says, "This is why you're getting an iPod. So you can love this all on your own."

I'm honestly thrilled that people seem to be enjoying Battlestar Gallactica so much, and I'm looking forward to seeing it. And I'm going to watch the Alias premiere tonight after I teach a private (and I've no idea what I'm going to teach them. I hope they bring music), but I was so burned out after last season that I hope, like Angel, they're able to pull me back in. But all of the inevitable new and returning fandom love all over my flist - while fabulous - makes me want to hug and craddle my show, protecting it and telling it that it's okay, moving on is inevitable and it doesn't mean you aren't loved, you're just no longer new and shiny and it'll all be okay:)

I mentioned not wanting to quite return to reality again, right?

Not Sex, cont.

I'm having a wretched afternoon, so I'm posting this in an effort to make myself feel better.

Baby, Can I Drive Your Car. Part IV.

( Force Equals Mass Times Acceleration )