Mood: executeable files A date has finally been set for Mr. and Mrs. Platypus. The date: September 23, 2006. Quite amusing. Quite amusing, indeed. And since we're both completely ignorant as to the detailed plannings, Peter's mom is helping tremndously. Pete and I couldn't be trusted to make the arrangement details ourselves because as it was, we were already in the process of discussing the options of being dressed up like Skeletor, and feeding everybody some TV dinners and a heaping serving of a very special something I'd like to call wedding pudding. September 23 is coincidentally my grandparent's anniversary. If my grandma were still alive, they'd have been married 55 years. 55. That is a LONG period of time to stay together despite having zero in common. I'm taking that as a good omen, although I don't even think we'll be around in 55 years. Apartment search sequence has been initialized. There should be little to no trouble at all finding a domicile ready to be habitated by October 1st. I still can't believe it. It's going to be so weird living in a place that I can really call my own. Especially weird, considering I've existed in this same room since the time I was slumbering in a bastard crib. Yeah. Time to move. I'm not very picky about what the apartment must or must not have. I'd enjoy living West Hollywood style; on a mattress on the floor and a backpack as a pillow. Then I'd listen to the Flaming Lips and feel invigorated after having been up all night on a mixture of diph and cocaine. I'd curse the sun but still acknowledge its morning beauty, and from my window, I'd watch the street urchants stretch and start the new day by finding a less-worn-out paper cup to collect change in. That's actually one of my dreams, to be quite honest. I'd love to live in a studio in West Hollywood and do nothing but be hooked on caffiene and make strange experimental music. I'd sleep on a sheetless mattress directly on the floor. Blah blah blah. My last name is going to extend from 4 letters to about 18. I'm diggin on it though. My current last name, although short, is awkward to say aloud. I hate doing it. Absolutely hate it. My Yankees are now in first place in the AL East. I've been pulling for them, even though everyone was throwing in their towels of hope. Nay! Your favorite team is your favorite team, and much like a friend or a spouse, you do not drop them just because of some unexpected problems. And we ended up keeping Philip Hughes and Melky. I ph33r3d for them. I like farties.
The sun rises on West Hollywood
7:36 a.m.//08.03.06
Sound: Go Sailor -- Together Forever In Love
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