half a dozen things pissing me off today. last night, when felicity had her season finale and i could just cry like
got shot and pretend that was the biggest thing ever. but of course it's not. and i'm an escapist. and i pretty suck at it, too.
like, why do i waste all this energy on worrying about the Project that no one's gonna read and into my story and into liz and i'm the one person she doesn't wish to spend more time for on her site?
ok. never mind. last night my parents asked me to put what i wanted for chanukah on my site, so there.
last night, i went to the brickskellar with a bunch of al gore's interns. first we watched the west wing and they showed everyone drinking beers outside on a Georgetown stoop, the way we do in Washington DC, talking about the next four years the way we do. that's what the election means here, you know. half the city's twentysomethings get replaced, the bars get a little more conservative, and everyone else grows jaded. yup. it's like a bad weather report.
everyone's gonna be like liz. grrr.
everyone was drinking thick alcohol, the bitter kind that gets you drunk faster. and the people with quarters were positively abusing the jukebox. every song was sad.
boston. fleetwood mac. tori amos. and, when "lord, won't you buy me a mercedes benz" came on, all the boys with easy dates looking a little bit guilty, it was like the new face of DC: damn, this is getting down.
why don't you just download an mp3 or two and be happy instead.
