Cassette tapes are magical. Currently I have three in my possession: Cosmic Thing by the B52s, Eve 6′s self-titled debut and the soundtrack to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. However, the music on a cassette tape is besides the point. When you listen to a cassette tape you’re listening to a feeling. I urge you to purchase a car with a tape player so you can feel what I feel.

just keeping things meta-transparent

cya tomorrow

Summer’s OVER but i got new blouse out of it! i’m going to put it in my hope chest. i have a hope chest but it’s not for when i get married and have children it’s for when i get my first real office job. it’s full of things like smart blazers, trousers and crisp shirts with french cuffs. and some pearl studs.

Although my last name is Finnegan (Which means fair-skinned in gaelic, white power f0r realz) I identify more with my mother’s side of the family, the Seeleys. The Seeleys are a very distinct people. Most of them are physically unable to jog. They are obsessive, compulsive, impulsive and anal. They are humanistic Jews which seemed normal when I was little but which I now realize is quite hippie. The earliest Seeleys were from Belarus and all of them were under five feet tall. The average Seeley today is 5’4. We’ve come a long way.

Anyway I’m thinking of getting a tattoo of a weary cow because that is what my Hebrew name (loosely) translates to, what do you think?

it would look kind of like that.

When I was a senior in high school and had to be at school at 7:30 for “Early Bird Gym” I used to listen to this really terrible morning radio show called Eric and Kathy at a very high decibel to get me out of bed. I also listened to it to keep me focused while driving to Early Bird Gym (which I did Ace Ventura-Style with my head out the driver’s side window because I lacked the brute force to unearth my windshield from the 2-in thick crust of ice that occupied its surface from November-May). It was the morning masochism period of my life. Anyway this radio show was so irritating they asked questions like, “what embarassing things does your manly man do that make him not-so-manly” and like, 10000s of people would call in to answer. One time, in a response to the manly man question, a woman explained how her “lumberjack” of a bf, the kind of guy who doesn’t talk and only eats steak tips, loved to use a loofah in the shower. Not just any loofah, but a loofah his mom gave him. See, all men are softies deep down! I used a loofah in the shower today, too. It was nice. I feel very clean.

a secret is that i’m not even IN texas!

so tragic

Oh yeah, before I forget — I crunched some numbers today for my Texas Year II Statistical Output (beta)

|+| wily tuft of hair (.25), walmart mini-cactuses (.63), purpose-driven life (.12)

|-| dreadlock (-.76), skylight (-.04), eyesight (-.20)

|+/-| reflux (1.00)

Time moves/like boulders through an hourglass./I’m permanently lodged/in the waiting room of life.

That’s a poem I wrote when I was seventeen. I think it really holds its own, though I feel as if I’ve moved from the waiting room of life to the anteroom of life, or maybe just another efficiency (see Texas: day 2.249). So much for permanent lodging. But time, o time — Does it ever not move! My plants sit in an old milk crate on the floor, waiting yet another day to be taken to their new home uptown.

Last night I was riding down 7th st and a stretch hummer full of screaming girls pulled up beside me and put down the windows and a lot of perfume came out and they were like DON’T YOU WISH YOU WERE US? This is not the first time this has happened to me in the past 3-4 months! Do I really look that unhappy not to be in a Hummer? I respect all walks of life.

Backup careers for when the newspaper industry folds (n.p.i. ) (or, things that i enjoy and am good at but are sometimes difficult and i could potentially program to be a lucrative occupation)

1. dishes
2. handfruit know-how
3. bike-riding thru west campus
4. taking up very little space in a bed
5. internet “research”