| That's Just What You Are |
[16 Jun 2002|12:52pm] |
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mood |
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 mellow |
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music |
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Carole King "Sweet Seasons" |
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Hello. I was just on vacation so I wasn't in to take your call. Here's the rundown of my vacation (all 40 hours of it).
On the car trip up, I listened to Carole King and Kate Bush, but the majority was spent listening to all of my Aimee Mann cds. Holy shit, I love Aimee Mann. I tend to see myself in her writing, much like the way I see the way I write and see myself in Liz Phair and Kurt Cobain and Joni Mitchell. Though I don't think I'm close to their caliber of writing, it's something to shoot for I suppose.
Well I arrived at Missouri feeling all cynical (on the count of all the Aimee Mann), and at my Uncle Mark's house, my brother Greg did what he does best, which is pretend he is not afraid of dogs. Yeah fucking right.
We went to a pretty uneventful Cardinals game that night. What was eventful, however, was the drunk guy sitting a couple rows in front of us. A couple of kids down my the guard rail were calling up to their moms, and this guy says back to them, "Hi mom!" I will never drink.
The next day was the family picnic where my cousin Caroline brought her foreign exchange compadre Leena. Wow, she was hot. And she kicked my ass at soccer. The tears still haven't dried. The vacation ride home was Aimee Mann + Exile In Guyville. Sweetness.
My grandpa had a stroke on Wednesday. Yeah it was sad. Of course the whole thing didn't even hit me. It still really hasn't. It began to sink in when my mom called us all together for a prayer. Oh god. No one exploded or anything, but the situation began to seem much more real.
My cousin Tiffany is going to go crazy.
I'm sure there's much more, but not for right now...
Louis.
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