dear eleven eleven,
i don't really remember when you and i became something special.
it was probably when i was nineteen, like everything else.
but i'm going to need to ask you a favor.
i either need for you to come through for me, or i'm going to need to ask you to stay the hell away from me.
i don't want to see you anymore. i don't want to think about you anymore.
i certainly don't want to feel like you are something to believe in.
i don't know why i have put so much faith in you.
you've never done anything to deserve it. and really? i think you and the lucky cigarette should just go fly a fucking kite.
because you are kindof a waste of time and energy.
sometimes i think that you are only around to make me feel bad about myself and my choices.
i don't like you anymore.
and i don't care if i ever see you again.
that was a little dramatic.
but the point is... i'm going to have to get over this silly thinking. putting stock in superstitions.
because, seriously, it's getting ridiculous.
i'm watching pee-wee's big adventure.
i used to know this movie by heart.
there are a lot of things that i've seen more recently that kindof echo in my head. like, i know all the words. only i can't say them. but everything is so familiar.
this movie is like that.
i love it.
from the opening sequence, i was cracking up.
i love tim burton. i love pee-wee. i love danny elfman.
i remember thinking that my elementary school music teacher composed must with him. as in, in person. because our school musicals would say 'written and composed by danny elfman and kris mcintyre'.
large marge. awesome.
beer with kit now. at the bar. it's going to be nice to go after being away for a while.
and so awesome not being alone.
i need this.
happy almost friday.
i need that, too.