On Christmas Eve, I decided to internet impulse buy New Moon on vinyl, but discovered it was apparently out of print and getting pricier. I knew there was a cheap copy at a store near me, so my playback of it now is even more rewarding after two days of anticipatory longing. This is what I'm thinking about.
  1. I was the only guest at a Christmas dinner party last night, all the food prepared for me, but I was never once called the "Guest Of Honor."
    I made the mistake of telling a co-worker that I would be alone after dropping my son off at his mom's after we had Christmas, and got what I feel was a pity invite. It went fine, despite receiving no crown or anything, and there was so much food, I had to buckle the leftovers into the passenger seat.
  2. Step Brothers on Comedy Central confirms that muting the swear words is painfully unfunny. Beeping them out is a much better comedy sound.
  3. I have ruled out true love purely because she spelled Elliott Smith's name wrong.
    Get it right, you know? Philip Glass is another. I would understand if they were spelling Glass' name with two Ls as a joke about his needlessly-repetitive music, but you goddamn know they're not. Think of this way: he's a minimalist, what does he need with the extra L? Anyway, not spelling artists' names correctly is far too important to me, and I realize that. It's the alphabet-centric version of seeing a beautiful woman and THEN seeing her wedding ring. "Yeah wow, OK, hey...nope, fuck you."
  4. An Instagram stranger I follow just found me on Facebook. I don't know if that means she likes me, but as this early version of "Miss Misery" plays, I'm going to believe that it's true, despite her living in Texas, far away from me.
    Why haven't any of you found me on Facebook? I've always wanted strangers to embrace me (mostly mentally, but between the hours of 10PM-1AM, physically as well).
  5. The cover of "Thirteen" is next and I think of Faith Mort and her cousin or friend Teresa, who died last week of an apparent heart attack.
    Faith was the cheerleader I went out with when I was 13. She didn't show up to the 7:00 of Graffiti Bridge and we never spoke in the ways of teenage love again. Faith & her cousins/friends Julie & Teresa (forget which was which) used to sing me Wilson Phillips songs over the phone, in perfect harmony. Teresa was the pretty one, but still it was a shock when she & Faith both became strippers. She gained that unique stripper weight, where she got a real thick neck from all the hair tossing. RIP
  6. Texas Instagram Woman (who looks like Katie Holmes in the best ways, meaning she doesn't have that weird screwface Katie has in every other scene in Dawson's Creek) asked me what I wanted from a woman. I answered honestly.
    I just want someone to watch movies with. Not like rock climbing or vacationing in a tropical paradise. Just watching movies together, hanging out. Maybe talking in the kitchen while making dinner. The boring stuff. But no, everybody wants to go climb some fucking rock.
  7. See You Later