call me mr. richard feder from fort lee, new jersey

yesterday before leaving work, i apologized to hot gig (via IM because i am a coward) about being rude to him at whole foods on thursday. he had no idea what i was talking about and, while accepting my apology, it hadn't even occured to him that i had been being rude. so now, he probably thinks i'm weird and creepy (he probably already thought the creepy part) and over-apologetic (i told him that myself) and that i'm needy and want people to like me (not all people, just certain people).

(when i rehearsed the apology in my head, i ended up doing it in person and rambling like i was on an old episode of ellen and ended up telling him i liked him. over IM, i just said i didn't want him to think i was mad or didn't like him. no admission of crush whatsoever, although he's probably guessed about it by now. oy.)

anyway. the whole situation made me feel like an utter twatwaffle, and after i closed the IM window, i imagined roseanne roseannadanna reading a letter from me on weekend update and saying that i should move to new jersey and going on to say how she, roseanne roseannadanna, had once had a crush on a co-worker, and one day she was next to her crush and he farted, and she thought she was gonna die. she then went on to explain how it sounded like a real wet fart and she started feeling bile come up her throat, and that's when jane curtain cut her off, and she went into an anecdote that her nanna roseannadanna once told her. (and this is proof of how i over-think things.)

last night i made my first visit to this year's half-price sale at austin books. i'm only 15 issues away from a complete run of the 1994 series of Starman! and yes, i am that much of a dork. so much so that i woke up at 9:30 a.m. today and started working on a thorough list of issues i need to look for.

also last night, tragedy. i have this tendency to rest my drinks on one of slim's speakers (ok, it's the one to the left of the monitor in the pic). last night, i miscalculated my beer's placement on the speaker, and it spilled all over my keyboard. i tried my best to clean it up in my drunken stupor, and i disconnected it and tried to shake all the excess beer from it. and i laid it keys down on the floor overnight. but it's a lost cause. i plugged it in a little while ago and it's stuck in caps lock and the d and l (and other keys, i'm sure, but i didn't try each and every one) aren't working. i haven't even had the keyboard long. it's just proof that i can't have nice things without fucking them up. luckily, i still have my old comp and i'm typing away on its six-year-old tangentbord.

pansy division and julieta venegas cds will be purchased today.

i need a cigarette.