This is what happens when I don't sleep - 08.10.02 - 2:46 am
Look!

No duck pictures at the moment. It seems that when I actually want the ducklings to be running around and doing their duck stuff, they decide to take a nap. All of them.

And yet when I want to take a nap, you can bet your ass they will all be standing around the bed and quacking at me.

I should have quacked at them when they were sleeping. Yeah. Then they'd know how it feels.

But they looked so cute....

Anyway, I'm in the process of making a Charles Bukowski shirt. I made an iron-on transfer or whatever the kids are calling it these days, but I lost the instructions a long time ago so it came out kinda funky. Now I've got to figure out a way to save the $4 shirt I used for it. I'm thinking of painting red around the photo and using a black fabric pen for detail. And then maybe I'll add some rhinestones. Cuz everything is better w/rhinestones.

OK, I'm not really going to add rhinestones. That's a bit much, even for me.

Ack, 2:30 and sleep is nowhere in sight.

I wonder, how come I can find ways to explain boy behavior to my friends and yet have no fucking clue in regards to me. Like, my friend will explain a problem or an odd choice of wording from the last conversation they had, and it only takes me a few minutes to make sense of it. But then when I try to make sense of my own (pseudo) love life, I'm at a loss. Hell, everybody is at a loss.

They're still trying to figure out just what the fuck happened w/That Boy. Remember him? Yeah. I wonder how his girlfriend is doing.

I am writing about this now, tonight, because I'm trying to be analytical as opposed to emotional. Someone ought to burn my old journals. I know the idea is to preserve time, but I'm thinking it's better to preserve old crushes that should JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY. So, yeah, this isn't just caffeine running through my veins right now. It's nostalgia and summer and that line from Tom Petty's "Even Losers Get Lucky Sometime."

You know the one.

"We smoked cigarettes and stared at the moon"

Or maybe you didn't know that. It is kind of a nonsensical line in a very sensible song when talking about old crushes. It's just...three (oh, fuck, it really has been three) summers ago, I actually did that. With That Boy. And that goddamn song kept running through my head and I could've just kicked him in the nuts for not realizing that hey, this girl really fucking likes you.

Why oh why am I writing about this?

Fuck it. I just bought the actual Andrew WK album (no more MP3s and crappy computer speakers!) and I have two, yes, two packs of pretty decent cigarettes. I'm going to go rock out and practice blowing smoke rings.

Yeah, man.

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