(no subject)

Since I have a lot of new friends, perhaps you'd like to know something about me:

1. I hate it when I ash in the Coke I'm drinking. The one I just opened. It's another sign that it's time to quit. And soon I shall.
2. I'm flying to Charlotte, NC, in about 5 hours.

There. Now you know everything about me!

(no subject)

I'm in Charlotte now.  The only reason I was looking forward to it was the chance to get to meet zette, but she went and gave her husband the plague, so now she can't meet me.  I'm sad.

I'm watching the strangest show on Charlotte public access.  There's this rednecky guywith a trucker hat and goggles and bad teeth(he does a couple of other stupid characters, too) ranting about nothing (he was just sucking on a tampon) talking about sex and hookers, intercut with short clips of hot women in various states of undress (but not quite fully undressed) and guys in rubber masks, people screaming, or other strange things.  It's scaring me, but i can't turn it off.

Ikea delivery wanted to deliver my couch tomorrow, but I rescheduled it for Thursday.  I only finalized the order last Thursday,and they said it would take two-to-three weeks.  It took four days.  Anyway, I'll have a couch soon.

But I miss zette.

(no subject)

And another thing!

Remember when I used to want a porkpie hat?  I don't want one anymore.  It's not that I don't think it'll look good one me; i'm sure it would look great.  But twice in the last month people have told me that I bear a striking resemblence to Blues Traveller frontman John Popper.  (One was kind enough that to point out that I look like Popper "before he lost all that weight".) I don't think the hat would help, is all I'm saying.  Maybe it's time to shorten the sideburns, too.