MONDAY: Dinner with Bill & Courtney!!!!!
TUESDAY: Tarot card reading!!!!!!
WEDNESDAY: No work! Open presents. Drink coffee. Drink a milkshake. Drive to Lajitas. Lounge by the pool. Read. Draw. Crosswords. Relax. Spend the night. Breaking Bad marathon, with Red Bulls if needed?
today two coworkers were ribbing me about not booking a show two years ago (cocteau twins) (don’t like them, but didn’t book them because we had another show three days later, so it wasn’t personal, though i do hate nostalgia concerts, especially ones featuring ethereal female vocals) AND for booking a show that i was FORCED to book (laura marling). i really lost my rocket and was TOTALLY HUMORLESS about it. like “guys that’s really not funny.” straight up dour mad brat tommy lee style!!!!!! my new marfa style yo!!!!!! thanks i’ll be over here complaining about everything.
FRANK SPINELLI, VACUUM TESTER
courtney comes through with consumer reports on vacuums and mattresses!!!!!!
STYLE/MOOD INSPIRATION (courtesy of Primer and Lacquer)
dinna wanna work today, just wanna eat french fries, wear short boots, research new/old tunes, practice brain games.
on repeat these past few days, courtesy of aquarium drunkard.
dressed in all white today.
a 27-year-old woman we know in town, whose wedding i went to in may, was hit by a train yesterday. died. maybe, probably, suicide, no one knows. it made me feel simultaneously shocked, grounded, unmoored. everyone is their own little planet. who can know anyone? which caused me to go down a bad path with ross this morning, then more bad paths with everyone else the rest of the day. all strangers. but not.
“And it came to me then. That we were wonderful traveling companions but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal in their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they’re nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we’d be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing.”
― Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart
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