January 07, 2003

Senioritis is a cliche. But a damned valid one.

I wanted to be in school today. Really, I did. I could've thought of places I'd rather be (bed, San Diego, in your arms oh girl oh girl). But it was better than being, say, at work. The people were nice. I missed them, especially Chelsea W., who I only have one class with now. It was a beautiful day but I didn't mind spending it inside neglecting work with fun people.

The pain of it was the work. The WORK. They keep wanting me to do things, the large people, who apparently have some sort of authority, and sit at the front of the room. They hand me things and expect me to give them more than a cursory glance before I start doodling on them and throwing them at people. They want me to do things for them at home. It's ridiculous. Don't they realize that "Class of 2003" means something? I used to know WHAT, exactly, but I assume it has something to do with the changing of the year and the fact that I can literally feel my brain atrophying and rappeling, cell by cell, down out of my ear to seek refuge in warmer heads. I stomp on them as they run, and emit a guffaw from my drooling idiot mouth. Serves them right.

I don't want to do anything but read and blog and sleep and play video games and Risk and listen to Death Cab and Pinback.

Pinback is a fucking good band, by the way. Thank you Nicole.

Speaking of bands, in a monumental event that only occurs once or twice every presidential term, I purchased a CD today. Granted, I had a gift certificate, but it was at Sam Goody, which is the most moronic music store in the history of recorded sound, so even with the ten dollars from Aunt Angie the damn thing ended up costing me nine bucks. I blame Sam Goody, not Angie. I think I'm a better person because of it.

Anyway, I got Yankee Hotel Foxtrot by Wilco, which, despite being roundly praised as the best album of the year in critical circles, manages to be a really, really good record. "Jesus Etc," "Heavy Metal Drummer," and "I'm the man who loves you" are favorites right out of the gate, but it's all good. I think "Ashes Of American Flags" is maybe the sexiest song ever, not in a Marvin Gaye kind of way, but in the sense that it feels like resignation and darkly lit rooms and things I don't have words for. Smoky and mysterious. Good song, anyway.


I apologize for the slim post. But hey...SENIOR!! Yea, exactly.

Posted by DC at January 7, 2003 01:50 AM
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