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August 5, 2001 // 2:22 p.m. // Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting
Probably the worst thing about taking my car on our little outings is the fact that I never get to listen to the music I want to listen to. I had Natalie Merchant's Tigerlilly CD and it was immediately outvoted in favor of a radio station. Plus while we were eating dinner in the car, The Bangles Hazy Shade Of Winter came on, and they did nothing but yell and scream to make sure I couldn't hear a word. It left me with one question. The Bangles aren't quality music, but Jessica Simpson, Jermaine Dupri and Lil' Bow Wow are? We finally agreed on a soulful CD by Mystic that B and G immediately fell in love with, vowing they'd buy it first thing tomorrow. I've turned G on to Mystic and Alanis, who's nest? I had already been upset, because since we had done stuff the last two nights, I figured Saturday was my "day off." I had already planned to go to Wal-Mart at 9:15ish, and to start making my macaroni and cheese at 10. I always make mac and cheese on Saturday nights at 10:00. It's one of the ruts I'm in. But who should call ruining all above plans? G. We drove around the east side of town looking for a park and a bench to sit at. This immediately spelled trouble, as I always get lost in the maze of streets and houses that look just enough alike to confuse me. I thought I had been driving west, but instead had been driving south for four blocks when I realized we were still on 1900 east. Eventually, after driving to a location I knew, I found my way back to two of the parks before heading to a third with benches. It was here G decided to write a song, based on Aaliyah's 4 Page Letter. I also began to write a song, but coupled with the fact that I had no inspiration :) and it was one in the morning, I came up with six unfinsished verses of nothing. Some were about Pea Soup, others Angie. They even had the nerve to ask if one was about T.E.N.T. They then bitched at me when G shared his song and I refused to share even one line. Even my crappy half thought out lyrics were better than his. For some reason, he ignored every basic rhyme scheme one would learn in a literature class. He could've used A A B B (cat/hat/book/look). He could have used A B A B (my personal favorite cat/book/hat/look). But he decided to go with A A A A (cat/hat/bat/mat) twenty-four lines. So in the first verse, the end words were something like myself/felt/shelf/dealt, but he originally had feel instead of felt. He also used along/gone/song/belong, which as my former creative writing teacher would say are "cliched and overused." The song was what every eighth grader turns in as a love poem for their class english assignment. But the poem was about RaDeck, who he is at least showing more feelings toward, even if he doesn't admit to liking her. I didn't get home until 3 this morning, went to sleep at 3:30 and I woke up at 5:30 without any trouble. And it's been that way for nearly seven years. I feel so tired, dehydrated and hungry. I've been at the computer all day uploading music. Later today I'll go through one of my routines of getting KFC chicken while watching The Simpsons and Malcom In The Middle. Random Jagged Little Pill lyric: "I don't want to live on someday when my motto is last week. I don't want to be responsible for your fractured heart and its wounded beat I don't want to be a substitute for the smoke you've been inhaling What do you thank me What do you thank me for?" -Not The Doctor Jason Last year at this time: I'mm sitting in a passenger van fighting with Angie over anything and everything. The songs/poems I wrote then are just as bad, but they mean something.