if it feels good...

i quit my job today. i can do that. i can do whatever the fuck i want. whose life is this? shut-up, you structuralist bitch - this is my fucking life. and i can do whatever i please - can go wherever the wind takes me. and okay, so right now, the wind is taking me nowhere other than my couch. i am jobless. and you know what else? that is okay. i am sort of getting into telling myself postivie affirmations lately, and so, everyone together now (and out loud too): Everything is going to be okay. okay, let's try that one more time for those of you who didn't read aloud the first time through - it really does feel good to say it out loud: Everything is going to be okay. We're going to be all right. doesn't it feel good? also, start talking in a proverbial "we" all the time. emphasize our common humanity - the bonds of brotherhood - and we're going to make it. we will not do things that we do not want to do - like serve espresso drinks in chain bookstores in suburban strip malls. we will do things which we enjoy. they will find us. we have no need to worry. Everything is going to be a-okay. we will come out on top.

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last night, at ruby tuesday, over the in-store radio, they played eva cassidy's cover of "fields of gold," from the live at blues alley album, which i listened to all the motherfucking time for a good three months after i got it. and i heard the opening piano keys and i recognized the song and freaked out, wondering why the hell they were playing eva cassidy at ruby tuesday's, but still excited beyond belief. sarah did not know who eva cassidy was, only heard the smooth jazz sound of it, and thought my music tastes were shit.

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i talked to bonnie on im tonight, and i wished i was still in sarasota so that mark could have made me a sno-cone last weekend. i would have cherished it like it was the handkerchief of a princess and i were a knight or something. unable to decide whether to consume the sno-cone, getting off on each bite of sno-cone as it went down my throat, or rather, to let it sit in my hand and just hold it, watching it slowly melt down my hands, making them gunky and sticky.

ilovetempeh: i can't believe you like alanis still
ilovetempeh: you are such a super dork
Indigopig: bonnie, YOU are a super dork for not liking alanis
Indigopig: any marky mark sightings
ilovetempeh: yeah i saw him a lot during parents weekend
ilovetempeh: apparnelty all the people who work in student affairs had to help out
Indigopig: was he with his parents
ilovetempeh: so he was making sno cones at the concert
ilovetempeh: no his parents weren't there
Indigopig: are you kidding?
ilovetempeh: and he was helping set up new college day
ilovetempeh: i'm not kidding
Indigopig: did he make you one
ilovetempeh: yes, cherry flavored
Indigopig: that is the cutest thing ever, i could so picture him serving sno cones
ilovetempeh: and he danced a little to paul cebar
Indigopig: i want him to make me a sno cone

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i started reading infinite jest today. i had bought it in high school, but never actually read it, and so now that i am not in school and can do whatever the fuck i want, i am reading books that i've always meant to get around to reading. on page 23, i came across the line, "She had an artisitic manifesto that involved radical feminist themes." i want "an artistic manifesto." shouldn't everyone have one? in the next few days, i am going to start hashing out my very own artistic manifesto, outlining my beliefs about art and what i'd like to do with it. i just think it'd be a real fun thing to do.

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tomorrow (because i feel like it, mind you), i am going to hit the streets and find me a motherfucking job - one which, when i have to go to, i will not feel like shooting myself in the head. everything's going to be all right. just say it. it's good to remind ourselves sometimes. scratch that. all the time.