day day day
2007-05-07 5:10 p.m.

today i spilled a decorative canister of coffee beans onto the counter of a hipster coffee shop.

the day before that was my birthday. it was a good birthday.

the day before that i couldn't walk.

the day before that i burned my feet walking on hot asphalt. the resulting blisters were incredible in both their size and the amount of pain they caused.

i'm challenging myself to write about something else. i will try my best to avoid the following themes:

1. i am a heartbroken loser
2. i will always be single
3. i can't believe how fucked up i am as a result of him
4. i would like to have sex
5. i don't like when he treats me bad
6. i miss him
7. the number of bad choices i've made in my love life are overwhelming

note that the "he" is not restricted to one individual. indeed, the role shifts every year or so.

though i'm excited to try this, i'm a little afraid i won't have anything to say. but let's try. here's a recipe.

GHETTO GRAD SCHOOL DIET TACOS

- stale whole wheat pitas in the stead of soft taco shells
- fat-free refried beans
- salsa
- a few wilted scraps of lettuce
- fat-free plain yogurt in the stead of sour cream

1. combine in a manner that pleases you.
2. eat.
3. marvel at how surprisingly delicious such a combination could be.
4. mourn that you are now out of ingredients.

uhhh what the hell do i do? oh, surely there are other topics i can discuss. let's see how many of them i can combine into one paragraph.

i miss christine and my writing's no good because i'm overweight and my place is a fucking mess because i'm young and don't know what to do with my life and also i wish i were in london i have good hair i'm drunk i'm stoned i'm high i'm on the floor who has my car if i only had money then i could stop watching youtube it's freezing it's sizzling i love grad school i love doing nothing i love all my friends i love squirrels trees flowers clouds the sun the beach i made some fucking tasty dessert tonight.

now what am i going to say?

i know-- i hate the way rihanna stretches the word "umbrella" into 4 syllables.