I have been so hesitant to blog for the past few days mainly because I've been too afraid to admit that the most significant parts of my days have been at work. Work's nice and all but who wants to listen to someone talk about their place of employment? Not me.
HOWEVAH on the way to work I was listening to Andrew Jackson Jihad and loving on it as if it were our honeymoon. I realized that Sean Bonnette's voice is too high and not high enough for me to sing... as in it's generally right in between my high fake voice and real voice. So what winds up happening is I just stop singing until my conviction level hits "audible".
I miss Tennessee sometimes. Katie and I watched "Down From the Mountain" and it made me want to take a road trip. The people in the south pretty much suck (unless they're singing bluegrass) but the scenery is flippinawesome. You can kind of see it in ya brain when Ralph Stanley sings...
It's nice I'm not sad about the worst piece of my teenaged years. You gotta love the badass in zombie movies who isn't afraid of the horrible undead flesh eating bitches who have come back from the grave to eat brains and hearts.
Driving to go pick up some of Alex's paperwork... I don't think I've ever enjoyed a detour so much.
It's weird how I have this almost obsessive need to have the windows rolled down while I drive even when it's cold... I just turn the heaters up on my feet. Tonight was something like that, a chilly spell like a friend is laughing at you... not maliciously but as if she just poked you in the side and giggled while you curled your body sideways in shock. I turned up Paul Baribeau and ran my fingers through the tamed thickets on my head- the soft side of the pillow.
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up the punx bryan
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