for once "whooooaaa, back's on fire" is my theme song. I realized that I'd probably just end up sitting around the house yesterday, so I decided to sit around at the beach instead. I spent a full day soaking up sun and playing in the ocean at wrightsville. although I applied spf 30 liberally and took proper breaks in the shade, I lay on my stomach for a bit too long. so the entire back half of my person is a wee bit red. but it was a great idea to go; I think I'll start going once a month or so when weather permits. also, when I went into downtown wilmington for some kickass crab cakes and sweet tea, I discovered nun street. that street automatically rules.

I was so proud of myself for becoming a neat freak upon moving into 4109. y'all should see the place now. if you could even get in the door, that is. no excuse not to clean up--gotta do that later.

oh, I just realized that mom's prophecy about being employed by yesterday was completely wrong. but since I'm checking back with a job on monday I won't get too cynical.

today's randomness: I decided yesterday that sunflowers are vulgar. I dunno. they just are.

that last entry was pretty crack filled. sorry bout that.

last night was a good one. tracy and I had a nice talk; I didn't know we had so much in common, it's pretty crazy. she left for alabama just after ashley came to stay over. there was drinking of tequila and watching of telly. oh, and I answered the phone when alan (tracy's aforementioned ex-b/f, but they're still friends) called the apartment for a chat, which he often does when he's sloppy drunk. I'd never personally spoken to the guy in my life, but he went on about how wonderful I was and how he wanted to visit and hang out. although claiming complete hetero status, he'd be "willing to make certain exceptions." it was hilarious and oddly touching. but then I've always been a sucker for affectionate drunk guys...sigh. let's not get into all that!

know what I like? ground fog on moonlit meadows. it's so sensual. if I ever do make films, I'm working it in.

know what I hate? people who criticize other people for being spoiled by their parents. I swear, I'm about sick of it. few spoiled kids ask to be pampered. granted many of us grow up ignorant of certain productive values, but it's unfair to chastise us for it. I've gotten the "spoiled brat" rap all my life, and I don't deserve it--simply because I never ask for more than I need. I often get it, but I can't stop my parents from being generous, although I have tried time and again. wanna call me spoiled? I'll be glad to give you my 'rents phone number and you can tell them that you disapprove of the way they take care of me. to all my fellow brats out there--just be as self-sufficient as you can. show the fuckers up. to all those who've ever dissed decent folk for being spoiled, get your freakin noses out of the air and tend your own gardens. our credit cards, our nice cars, and our nice toys don't hurt you a damn bit. get over it.

anyway. my plan for the weekend is to get tan. will keep everyone posted.

oh, and a couple new links on the left. because everyone should waste time online the way I do.

warning: useless rant ahead

I don't know why, but I have never been able to tolerate beach music. I heard a radio ad for a beach music festival in va today and it gave me a headache. I'd rather be seen in public with gilbert godfrey than attend such a travesty. and I always have a hard time explaining to people who aren't from the southeast what beach music is. it's not even an allmusic.com genre. contrary to popular belief, the drifters aren't beach music--not enough horns, and the rhythm isn't exactly right. spiral staircase is closer but not quite...and who knows who they are anymore? I just tell people, "think lots of trumpets, involuntarily snapping fingers, and torture." why I think shag is such a great movie I'll never know.

warning: toffee-nosed treatise on 20th century culture ahead

seeing singin in the rain last night was marvelous. a reminder of how much I love 1920s culture. by far my favorite decade.

the 50s were mass induced complacency in the wake of war. bring on ike and the automatic dishwashers and rock around the clock til we fall asleep in our twin beds and what could really go wrong in the suburbs? pass the instant mashed potatoes. please.

God love 'em, but the 60s were a somewhat simpleminded reaction to the blase 50s. america is boring, let's fix it! let's protest things, anything! let's make a difference! let's rebel! but let's smoke up first, maybe drop some acid. woo...yeah...avoiding reality is fun. hey...weren't we going to do something? never mind. does anyone have a guitar?

the 70s. uh huh. the decade that made pointing your finger in the air a valid dance move. at least in the 20s people wiggled them. and who wants to wait in long lines to gas up an amc gremlin when they can fill the stutz bearcat with ethyl at leisure?

and enough has been said about the 80s. money, hair, "new coke" and the powdery kind. and what were the 90s, anyway? the decorate-with-candles decade? the ace of base decade? pass the latte bong, fellow downsized gen-Xer. it's time for friends.

the 20s weren't perfect. they lacked foresight and they ended badly. but they were all about living for the day and living for yourself, and they made no bones about it. and the fact that people could still have a good time in spite of all the nastiness--prohibition, the red scare, teapot dome--might show a lack of social concern, but I also see it as strong evidence for the decade's individualism. the 20s gave us fitzgerald, sinclair lewis, t.s. eliot. count basie, cab calloway, the carter family. the lindy, the ghandi, and the talkie.

can you get running boards for a vw passat? 23 skidoo!

just killing a few minutes before josh gets here and we go to barbecue/singin in the rain. job hunt today was kinda 50/50. but again, in fear of jinxing anything, I'll withhold details until more is heard.

tracy (carra's sister) is passing through again tonight; apparently a falling out with her bf is forcing her back to al. -abama, that is. but she's great to have around.

fanny used the litterbox! here's hoping it sets a precedent.

laura's 19th birthday; gotta give her a call. she has a job. but she's a telemarketer. not that there's anything wrong with that, but if she was CEO of fingerhut or something I'd be resentful. wait a minute...

I am, however, jealous of carra for going to bonnaroo this weekend. lucky bitch.

I dunno what is with today, but traffic's horrible. I'd better shag ass, as it could well take several hours to get back to brassfield.

and in case y'all haven't heard...

bernadette peters did NOT win the tony for best actress in a musical!

what kind of world do we live in?

I have yet to post about the newest resident of 4109. she's an adorable kitten that carra has christened fanny (for the song "the weight"). problem: we cannot housebreak the damn thing. she prefers carpet, tile, anything to her litterbox. any advice would be welcome, or else fanny will soon be out on her...well, herself.

speaking of cats, I saw a children's book the other day with the greatest title/cat name ever: varjak paw. if you know why that name is so brilliant, then you rule. if not, ask me sometime.

am getting very tired of spherion's excuses. applied for four more jobs, and am going out on another citywide hunt tomorrow.

my time at home was nice. lots of eatin and sleepin. I don't do quite as much of either here, so maybe gso is the best environment for me, all things considered.

got the first 'leccy bill for the apartment. only $36, which is great news for both carra and myself.

I should really eat, or something. haven't done that yet. yeah food.