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Song in my head: Outside Now by Frank Zappa (my dad asked me to make this the song at his (hopefully way in the future) funeral Mood: just winging it until five Current book: goddamn frat book - I just need to find out who the killer is and be done with it Does anyone actually ever say "whoa, nellie!"? I did a precursory Google search and didn't find anything, but considering that I'm also supposed to be working, I don't have the time to devote extensive research. Which is too bad, because "whoa, nellie!" came to mind with no strain or artificiality at all, but once on paper, all I could think of is, "hey, where did that come from? have I ever uttered that phrase out loud?" But I do find that my written vocabulary/phraseology is appreciably different from my spoken language. Not that surprising when I think about it, but my attention was drawn. So, anyway, the whole reason I said "whoa, Nellie!" in the first place, and got all tangental about it (is because I love tangents, yes, but there's more!) is that last night I was at Brian and Keith's suffering from raging insomnia and I decided to do a relatively dorky banner ad and people have actually clicked on it! Dorky banner ad:
(Props to Shalini for coining Aimee-No-Pants back in what, 1995?, and yep, props is one of those words that I would never actually speak, but I will shamelessly use it in print.) Granted, this doesn't mean that people will actually read it, or like it - and I've momentarily gotten very self-conscious -like, whoa, is anyone gonna care about any of this stuff if they don't know me? But hey, they like it, they like it, they don't, they don't. No popularity contests here. More than anything, though, I'm finally letting loose the restrictions I put on myself when I first started this diary instead of my original one. Once I left Louis and he kept reading it and emailing me about what I had to say, and posting in my guestbook, I fled. I wanted to be very anonymous, and not have him be able to find me one bit. Now, I realize, fuck it. If he finds it, he can read it, I don't care. He may haunt my dreams but he is no longer in my life. And that is cause for celebration. My much anticipated San Francisco trip is going to be my gift to myself for leaving such a hell-hole. I may even leave on my one-year anniversary of emancipation, July 11th (Brian told me that day, "you'll always remember the day you left him, because it's 7-11!) Anyway, back to the grind. But if anyone's got any suggestions for snazzier banner ads, lemme know!
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