2.57am
Tuesday
19 July 2005

She didn't belong--her daddy was rich and she dressed nice in those long pleated skirts and scarves around her neck. But there was a wild streak in her a mile wide, and those city boys in their cute little white pants didn't know the first thing to do with her. To make her young and alive and free.

--chris

Up far too late, thinking about boys.

I got to hang out with two of my best and oldest guy friends this evening, and it always makes me happy when I was doubting that. Ben is moving back into the South, and I am so thrilled to hear him talking about his plans for music. I've said here before that Brandon is one of my favorite people ever, and I know you read this now, so SEE THAT? That means that we are totally still friends. You asshole.

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I'm listening to Bo Bedingfield and the Wydelles, who 1) won the open mic tonight and 2) will be playing at Eddie's Attic on Friday at 7 and 3) rule.

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What field is it that exists in the real world and is most like politics is on The West Wing? Full of people who are intelligent and articulate and devoted to something that matters? Is there an arena that exists like that in the real world? I have such a deep driving ambition to succeed dramatically at something that has a low success rate (painting, acting, writing), but what about intelligent and meaningful interactions? I guess as an artist, if you end up getting that from your friends and those you love, that is your art, and thus, a major part of the challenge of your occupation. And of course that appeals to anyone, doesn't it? The idea of being able to write off the time you spend wondering about yourself and the people around you?

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