Me Big. You Little.

Desiree Burch is bigger and badder than you. Except when she's smaller and better (with more parentheticals than you can handle).

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Birth 2 Death Addendum

The title of the post comes from a Tulip Sweet (and her Trail of Tears) song of the same name. It came on my iRiver this morning when I was searching through comfy old Elton John songs to listen to... Today is the kind of day where I want to listen to Radiohead and the Divine Comedy and the occasional Antony, as well as Elton, since he is what I bounced on my bed to when I was 6, and sometimes you just need to go back there. But the song, if you get a chance to hear it, is perfect for that kind of feeling.

And of course, this morning, I couldn't help wondering, I couldn't help feeling like, if I had not bailed on the Comedy Social Show I was supposed to do last night, I wouldn't have had time to stop by the pet store before going home, and I wouldn't have gotten that blue death ray. I would have gone to my local pet store, and the this weekend (and just used the day lights until then) and they would have known what the fuck was going on. And I think about how sick and tired I was last night. How sick I felt on the train this morning, still... and how I would rather feel twice as bad now and still have my pet. I should have just gone and done the show, no matter how much better my body feels that I didn't.

And If I weren't so lazy, I would have refused the sub-standard light and gone to find the right one. Or I would have paid attention to shit like that, and have known I couldn't use that one, because I am sure one of the PetLand geeks told me that already. Or I wouldn't spend all my money on food and smokes and weed and wine and entertainment and I would still be able to afford cable and my internet, and I could have looked something up.

Woulda. Coulda. Shoulda. I should go back in time and change all that. Later.


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