7:22 p.m. - December 22, 2001
vacation-break-holiday-ish-time
I went over to Best Buy today to get a new Discman, since I left my old one on the floor and stepped on it and then it fell apart. I ended up falling victim to the department store demons yet again by buying a CD/mp3 player that was way out of my price range, in addition to the Best Buy insurance/maintenance crap that my dad is always telling me not to get. I didn't want to get the insurance at first, but the guy at the counter was so nice that I ended up getting it anyway, mostly from running through in my head all the awful terrible things that could conceivably happen to my precious newly-bought baby. On the way out, one of the other guys had to disable the security system, that's how pretentious this thing was. The yellow shirts and the canned music were giving me a headache. Getting to the music section, I must have weaved my way through at least three hundred shoppers. I have this thing when I'm in a crowd where I stand up perfectly straight; it's the only time I don't slouch; I think I like feeling the power of towering over everyone. People always comment on me when I'm standing up straight. There was one shopper who said to her friend, "Look at that woman; she must be a model." I hunched back over after that. Just the kind of attention I need, right? From middle aged women? It makes me feel a little weird to stand out like that. The power, though. The power is all right.

Oh, though. I hate department stores.

Last night was so nice. Erik, Camille and I drove around the city, and it was beautiful, because I didn't have to be the driver, for once. (Sorry, Erik...) We played the mix I made for him and then the ska mix I made for Camille's brother, which was a definite change of pace, I mean.. one minute we were groovin on Caleb and the Daniel Johns/Paul Mac team and Frente! and the Chemical Brothers, etc., quiet philosophical type-talk, then cut around Michigan Avenue and the horse-carriage rides and the devil department stores all neon-like, to steal a Bjork phrase, we put in the ska mix, cranked all the way up, and blasted home down LSD. (Lake Shore Drive for all you non-Chicagoans, not the hallucinogenic. might turn out to be difficult to 'blast' down LSD with the latter meaning, though, not too difficult to understand while actually on it). Then to the beach, and Erik's house, and Camille and I back to Camille's.

Thoughts: Erik has a freakishly strong heartbeat. I could feel it through at least four layers of fabric. Camille looked cozy wrapped up in Erik's blanket. I felt like we were interrogating her, unintentionally; the Christmas tree glares. Erik's hands have never been so cold. Advice sometimes shouldn't come from so high up on a pedestal,though it was good advice; because of its position it will probably be disregarded. it's funny how there are some people I feel this jagged need to get far, far away from; and others I could happily coexist, or be friends with, for the rest of my life without too much emotional distress. Further proof of either dysfunctionality, split-personality or a hit of the real world, whichever comes first. I could peacefully attend Boulder with Camille. I could peacefully attend Boulder with Nikki. I could peacefully attend with all of us shareboarding a house. We would ignore each other if need be. Attending Boulder with Erik, however, would be hellish, since I cannot ever ever fully separate from him or stop holding him up as a standard for every fucking one else I meet or, really, ever mature my personality and separate it from the present to the point I would like. I love him so much. But the farther awa yfrom each other we end up, the better. and the healthier, etc.

This could quite possibly be my last entry for about a week, since tomorrow I fly to New York to spend Christmas and such with my dad's side of the family. On second thought, my cousin's got a computer. So maybe not.

Happy vacation-break-holiday-ish time.

previous - next