i told myself that i'd stay home this weekend to work on my story, but since i never listen to myself - or anyone for that matter - i instead spent the time sleeping, baking funny-looking (but yummy!) cookies and molesting spike-the-guitar.

i am queen of procrastination. you can't really blame me though, i just don't feel like writing anymore - not because someone said that the 'crinkled skin' in my story is a scrotum or that my 'box of noise' is a damn disco - but because today, as i awoke from one of my numerous naps and found myself having had hugged spike to sleep, i realized that nothing can ever top the feeling i get when my fingers meet the fretboard. nothing satisfies me more that writing music and now i really wish i had enrolled in a music program. i just think i look so much more hotter with a guitar than with a damn pen (yes, i have no shame). this epiphany should have come upon me sooner, not when i'm about to graduate.

writing my thesis will kill me.
i should have chosen creative non-fiction instead.

...and because i like killing myself, i think i might submit another of my silly 2nd person P.O.V story for cirilo bautista to laugh at.

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first gig of 2008 on wednesday. sweet.

Mayrics, Espana

Feb 6 (Wed), 10pm

with Typecast, TooLateTheHero, Fairlight Madison...etc

we've got new songs, freshly arranged old songs, and a new carabao-drummer who thought a classmate of mine looks like Mao Ze Dong. seriously, his stupidity fascinates me.