three years (of crazy)

I'm too old for this: drinking semi-heavily (semi, because I can't seem to recall how heavy) for the past four days straight. Befriending MFA Writers who all suffer from some sort of F. Scoot Fitzgerald drinking habit-- proves not be in my best interest in terms of getting work done. Sometimes I feel as if their thesis readings are just intellectually-veiled excuses to get trashed and listen to Dr. Dre's Tha Chronic ("After tons of drunk dancing: Dialog on cultural representation in Rap music.") Everything about this system is a brilliant, accessible, and terrible burrito-o-insanity. For this, nothing on my to-do list gets to-do'ed.

Errands, so many errands for today. The more cumbersome the errand I have to wrestle (i.e. piles of laundry, taxes, smog check) the more enticing it is to type random journal entries and read about all the ways I can mix Pisco! into my Pandapple container. Am I experiencing late onset college frosh syndrome? I stare at my wine-stained sweater cuffs and sit in disbelief; I thought I got all of this shit out of my system long ago (take two angry filipinos, three parts alcohol, one part drug abuse, shake roughly with a twist of live-art = 2003 - 2004. oh yeah, and lots of unreasonable sobbing.)

Diana, Shin, and I are shooting for APE this Winter. Seeing that each of us are frequenting our own little dark places this year; Diana knifing her brains out in Las Vegas, Shin wanting to knife that recluse of an investment banker, and myself-- stabbing my liver. What's not to fuel our creativity in the form of cute, pastel-colored, crap-nobody-needs-but-feels-compelled-to-buy-anyway? YES! So let's make a 'zine together, yeah? This boat is a-sinkin' so it's time to start paddling!