but im not explaining myself right. my memory on my laptop is full. cuz i have 5000 songs. i’ve erased everything i can think of but it still says my start up disk is full and i have to delete files. i just added a few new albums to it. and now it’s fukt.
i tried to figure out my airport extreme so i could get everything talking, and i thought i might achieve it but it’s the same problem as before: the computers receiving the signal full blast, full bars, but u still cant get online. i may have to call up the geek squad. um… yeah, explain to me why i can’t have 200 oldies on my itunes. and make my wii and my 360 make out. consoles gone wild. i need intech help, just like every other kind of help i need. jonnie cant roadie for me this fall. the only thing that seems done about tour is the poster. which is the most awesome poster in the history of posters. its got me wanting it to be fall.
but i dunno, memory, inventory, mice. i feel like im running out of space. so i went on a walk and crossed the bridge. i went into landmark which im beginning to like more than other theaters (goonies on friday.) i saw dedication by justin thoreux with billy crudup and mandy moore. i’ve never liked crudup in anything and thoreux, even the name reeks of vincent gallo-ness, cool new yorker, prolly drinks cocktails with members of the state at some out of the way little place, oh look, there’s the gillyhalls! or how ever you say it. he just seems like some LA douche that lives in soho. is there a difference between LA and soho, i’m not sure. but anyway. i loved this movie. and it’s sucks to go home and feel like a movie spoke to you and then find out its got 47% tomato meter rating. everyone called it obvious, a compromise.
i liked it. ive pretty much always been in love with mandy moore. i think i bought one of her movies at a truck stop, the one where her grandma smokes pot. she looks a little bigger than emaciated and has ally sheedy breakfast club hair. she never looks bad. like julia stiles though their faces have taken on fun house dimensions in their recent endeavors. she’s still every guys’s dream girl. unless ur a dick.
and billy crudup played a crazy guy with a helmet with ocd from three different movies. random craziness because of child abuse. and he wants the girl but he doesnt know how to let me himself be ok with it, and he sabotages it. and ruins it. it had lots of interesting things to say, like relationships are about comparing each other’s damage. it starts crazy pessimist like i can feel almost all the time, and it ended very postively, outlook wise, which is an attitude i’d like to adopt, angelina jolie stylie. it was corny and critics hated it, saw it as cliched. i guess im very cliched.
it reminded me of science of sleep, buffalo 66 or this book im reading, confederacy of dunces, about being in this weird place where its time to be a man and break patterns. not be naive and foolish. not stumble every step. its time to walk tall. but sometimes that time can just pass. and ur a perpetual child. like ignatius. i root for all these people, like scott baio even. can u grow up? can i grow up?
i dont know if im making any sense. the mice have got me depressed. because now they’re smarter than the traps. im gonna come home from tour and its gonna be muppets take manhattan up in this piece with’m swingdancing on a stack of plates etc.
and as i walked the city and sat in the theater alone, enjoying the other person’s laugh in the echo of that place. i have begun to feel this overwhelming need to not do this alone. any of it. movies, sleeping, touring. what if there was someone there always to help? i think it’s become my big dream/wish. and it’s not even about the one or marriage or will this work. i just mean, something real, right now, that makes this life easier. i know relationships stir up their own fumes, but still. i want a pahdner to giddy up with.
i feel detached. and i said to my friends, it might be just a necessary ingredient for this music i make. to never feel a part of anything. im connecting to one person pretty much right now. just one. and we say hello in the morning and so long right before bed. i send her talkartoons. im kinda fascinated with bimbo right now. i share my life with her. and it helps. i wonder if it’s just this weirdness about not being on the road, and having this big album due, that i make on my own. i need somone like her. she’s out there though, like every girl i meet, hidden somewhere in the folds of the map. somewhere in america. never here. just mice. and jerks. and jackhammers.
september will be strange indeed. i dont even have birthday plans. i just go to this wedding in jersey on friday. shine my shoes on thursay. i dont really have any friends here. well i do, but i see them once a week. i dunno who really excites me tho, who do i want to listen to go on and on. like tom wilkinson in dedication. not really anybody. maybe i should go on a circle line tour.
these damn mice. i just need to buy a hard drive and some more glue traps, buy some eve. (i like chucking flaming corpses.) i need to get a little bit more motivated. not let waves of urban vermin be the death of me. i can deal.
