eleven hours until love...

yep, huge planes flying through the night for to bring people home for the weekend...where they truly belong.

today no sicky, although if i finish this bottle of iced-coffee, am likely to cramp up or something -- anything to make this work day more interesting!

last night at the club was interesting, a new club...less smokey and tight than the former and pool and racing video games and thumpin/pumpin (pimpin) hardcore industrial music thudding against the verry walls...oh, and woodchuck on tap (always a plus).

yesterday evening with theurbanite was fun, sad and lonely urbanite that he is. i fed him chili and peeked at his unfinished artworks. i should remember not to talk about my TT too much to others that either have no other or have rocky relations with their current significants.

side note:

significant is spelled with a "c" toward the end, and not a "g" as it is usually spoken. how odd...perhaps it is only a local pennsylvanian (penn-sla-va-nian, vlar!!) pronounciation? hrm...i dunno, what do you think?

a song (alanis, you know sometimes her voice gets annoying and such, but that bizzatch knows how to write lyrics, for sure) that i need to learn the lyrics to...in order to sing to sither and TT and others...without getting all teary:

that I would be good even if I did nothing
that I would be good even if I got the thumbs down
that I would be good if I got and stayed sick
that I would be good even if I gained ten pounds

that I would be fine even if I went bankrupt
that I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth
that I would be great if I was no longer queen
that I would be grand if I was not all knowing

that I would be loved even when I numb myself
that I would be good even when I am overwhelmed
that I would be loved even when I was fuming
that I would be good even if I was clingy

that I would be good even if I lost sanity
that I would be good whether with or without you

sometimes it is difficult for me to sing, whether in a chorale, on my own or even to myself

...if i am moved by the music. i cry.(that is what i get for being a poet and a musician -- an artist and a lover?) i just can not help but to get all choked up, ...probably one of the reasons that i have not started a band or auditioned for one, or switched to a contra-alto major in college as i was directed to do. (i am just a little too mortified of actually singing out in front of people...which i find to be odd, because much of the time i am an out-going badass, really.) bashful me.

*shrug*

ten hours and 45 min. ...