dan rouse, investigator

an investigator came to my house today looking to talk to me about sarah. i missed him, but i guess that is a pretty routine happening with the armed forces. i just can't imagine that there's anything i could tell them that they don't already know. sarah is sarah. end of story.

She's gonna come in and say how are you
My day was pretty blue
Sit on the sofa she'll take off her shoes
And think of something fun to do
She's wearing my sweater
She's asleep in my bedroom
She'll borrow my wardrobe for a week
She's watching the TV
She's out on the front porch
She's running rampant in the streets
Sarah takes on the world
She'll prove that the girl was more than you thought

canada

i really don't like the word, "babe"

but other than that , i'm pretty happy

con artists

i hate the "dun dun dun" that signifies a shocking, pivotal moment in a movie.
i feel like i hear that sound around every corner in real life when, goddamnit, i'd really like to get it out of my head.


i feel like a good percentage of people around me are lying to me somehow. all i've got up my sleeve is the notion to sit up all night chain-smoking in a lawn chair in my backyard.


all i can do is take things at face value and get some sleep.


i usually look forward to picking people up at the airport.
this time i'd rather be saying goodbye.

life-changing revelations

good people:


mar mar, your boots are made of gold:

i don't know what i am doing here, but i remember the hell adam &i went through to get to this elks lodge whateverthefuck in miami:

molly's birthday. i got tattooed earlier that day and my arm was swollen:


east coast roadtrip:

tin can telephone

"sometimes i know exactly what you're going to say...most of the time. the other times...you're just a stinker".

passing through the most complicated street in my neighborhood, i could feel my pulse in my dried out bottom lip. maybe if i pulled my mouth tight enough across my face, those dry lines would burst apart, letting the pulse spill out of my bottom lip and down the front of my jacket.



nahh.

there is no up or down in space.

i was really happy just walking with my dogs.

making a killing.

today was the first day of the year. after getting three hours of sleep last night because of my sick dog and waking up without my voice, i worked 11 hrs today and was able to sleep from midnight until 2am when my foster dog woke me up while he was having a seizure. i took him into the clinic and i couldn't believe my eyes. they were in the middle of surgery at 230am. it was a mess in there. petey was okay, but i ended up staying until 6am and i've never worked at such a pace.
i am now under the firm impression that i need a vacation.


There are as many explanations for acute wanderlust as there are travelers who suffer from it. But common to them all is the desire to break through the protective bubble that surrounds ordinary tourists as they move from one homogenous, CNN-wired hotel to another.
-- Steve Hendrix, The Washington Post, 1998-12-27