n o w p l a y i n g - s c r i p t b i n - f a n c l u b - s t u d i o

make love to the camera



September 26, 2003 - 10:00 am

Everything Looks Perfect From Far Away

I'll say this for unemployment: It does allow for some incredibly good mornings.

I love waking up early in the mornings. Over the past three years or so, I kind of became conditioned to it because of Sally. She had to be at work at 815ish, so when she'd sleep over, we would wake up around 6 or so. We would lay in bed and drink coffee and eat chocolate together while chatting, waking up, being all cutesy and watching the irreverent WGN morning news. It's all super square, sure, but it was too much fun for either of us to care.

So, now that I'm alone, I've found that my fondness for that kind of thing hasn't decreased at all. Although I'm alone, I'm having one of those fantastic mornings right now. I woke up at 7am. It's cool and overcast and beautiful outside. My room is nicely lit against the cloud cover by my cheap paper Ikea lamp. I'm drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, eating chocolate covered shortbread, reading, and listening to an amazing mix CD furnished by her.

There's a song on it by a band called The Postal Service. The song is 'Such Great Heights,' and the opening lyrics go "I...am thinking it's a sign, that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images, and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned..."

So good. It's the kind of song that drives a wedge into your cold, dark heart and splits it open just enough to let a crush fit in there. Goddamn.

The only thing that could possibly improve this moment would be the prospects of some lovin' or an income.

But not a combination thereof. The situation isn't nearly that dire.

The sweets, the coffee, the smoking. All so terrible, I know. I'm 28 years old, and so far, all the parts are in good working order. I don't want to help but be a self-indulgent hedonist right now.

May my young yet beautiful corpse serve as a caution to you all.

And, speaking of bloated corpses, there's a new commercial, I think for Jack In The Box. It says that the average guy can eat five burgers a week. Now, even I'm not that average. I know my burger consumption limits, and while I have been known to eat a cake in three days, I don't think I can put away that much burger. I'm much too vain to hasten my transformation into Fat Elvis quite that quickly.

The commercial goes on to say that it works out to 11,000 burgers over a lifetime. That gave me pause. 11,000. It makes me sad. It's not the idea that 11,000 cheeseburgers isn't enough, as that many burgers should be enough for anyone. It's the idea that my life ahead isn't filled with limitless burger. One day, we will all eat our last burger.

It would take the idea of a finite amount of burgers to make me confront my own mortality.

Cheery final note? No. Alicia Silverstone has a TV show.

Last Time On FadeIn - Next Week's Show

i am one bad updater:

enter email to find out when i update. powered by notifylist.com