i'm reading biographies this year. i started with patti smith, moved on to farley mowatt and now i have pablo neruda. Looking for guidance or something cause i keep thinking "who do you want to be when you grow up?"

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tonight i had pizza with a bunch of randos via my friend and former neighbor. The guy next to me had a giant tattoo of alabama on his forearm. I never did figure out if his name was "dane" or "dean" (if you know a southerner you'll know those two names become indistinguishable down here). They showed up with a fifth of bourbon, and when i looked at it after 10 minutes it was halfway gone. Not surprisingly, it all got a little messy on the way out. Dean/dane got up and immediately pitched sideways into the wall. The one woman (presently engineer, formerly exotic dancer) decided to do a weird drunken intervention with another woman (presently exotic dancer, formerly math whiz). i just sipped my high life and ate my pizza and stayed out of it.

when i got home later, out of nowhere my roommate said something like, "one time a guy broke up with me cause my vagina was too big. just kidding" out of nowhere, and I snorted water out of my nose, and just like that the night was fun and i put away my work and decided to just laze around and be silly.

10:24 p.m. - 2011-01-20