not-so-daily pic

I wanna sit and talk and laugh with you as the ends,
I wanna see your smiling face before the new begins,
You never know what it means to see the sunlight in your
hair and dancing everywhere.

I wanna shout about it,
But I keep quiet about it,
I wanna laugh about it,
But I don't joke about,
Wanna live without it,
But I can't do without it.

I'm someone's daughter,
An' your somebody's son,
Can I ease your pain 'til the morning comes,
I'm no one's daughter
I belong to the sun,
Gonna ease your pain 'til the morning comes.

Keep looking for the reason high and low to let it go,
Keep losing my mind looking for the peace that I'll never find,
I wanna know what it feels like to be the sunlight in your hair and dancing everywhere.

I wanna shout about it,
But I keep quiet about it,
I wanna laugh about it,
But I don't joke about,
Wanna live without it,
But I can't do without it.

I'm someone's daughter,
An' your somebody's son,
Can I ease your pain 'til the morning comes,
I'm no one's daughter
I belong to the sun,
Gonna ease your pain 'til the morning comes

-Beth Orton, "Someone's Daughter"

Validate its existence.

notice someone
get noticed

Sites Outside the Site

maybe while I'm sleeping
Tuesday, August 20, 2002
01:32 a.m.
Sometime today, my little purple blog will see 20,000 hits.

Aren't I big shit?

Fess up if it's you. | 4 comments

"They are the pepper, but we--we are the salt."
Saturday, August 17, 2002
05:37 p.m.

Metaphors and other curious phrases uttered by my boss at today's Outback server meeting:

"Outback is a barge and all the other restaurants are dingies trying to get in there, but we're pushing them out of the way."

"I scratch Starbucks off the map!" [in reference to Outback being listed as the #2 place people most like to go, according to some poll--just behind Starbucks]

"Are you a river or are you a rock? I hope you are a river, because rocks erode!"

"Be ready for the alluge [sic] of people that will be coming in here!"

"Instead of just taking, taking from the pie. Stop and think about what you are doing! Make a new pie!"

Discuss | 6 somethings

i keep funny friends
Friday, August 16, 2002
06:55 p.m.
miscetcmiscetc: i hate few people
dong resin: really? there's such a large world of h8 I have to show you!
dong resin: have you never been to wal mart?
miscetcmiscetc: i was there just yesterday
miscetcmiscetc: a super wal-mart even
dong resin: you DON'T want to just randomly start stabbing people in the head?
miscetcmiscetc: nah
dong resin: we're very different

Discuss | 12 comments

Last sentences from 'A' papers I kept from college--for no reason at all.
Friday, August 16, 2002
04:49 p.m.
"American Psycho" is worthy of multiple viewings, for it exists on multiple levels: a feminist discourse, a performance vehicle and a biting satire--I bet even white males would think so.

Except for Keith, who muttered he was "cold and Jewish," as he retired, somewhat grumpily, to his van.

"Erin Brockovich" proves that classic material for a film can be made today into a fresh and entertaining product.

If the author had spent less time apologizing and more time discussing women in theatre, as the title suggests she will, perhaps I would have been more satisfied with the text.

The theme of "The Cider House Rules" is the same as that of "The Wizard of Oz," but people will forever return to Oz while The Cider House fades into overappreciated oblivion.

It's closed when it rains or snows.

If we are left with just this film to make a decision, no one is likely to care.

Lester Burnham wanted what he couldn't have--and I have to wonder if he'd wanted roses on his grave.

It seems for a woman, her sexual body is her social reality; her identity a product of her embodied knowledge and experience.

Behind them a gaggle of girls followed.

Pearl looks back over his shoulder and gives Hall a wide grin and a thumbs up.

Discuss | 2 comments

then and now (or, yay for my new scanner!)
Wednesday, August 14, 2002
08:39 p.m.

How cute is that kid sister of mine? everyone failed to tell me my mortar board was crooked

Discuss | 2 comments

fucking foul
Wednesday, August 14, 2002
08:10 p.m.
I asked the barista to add almond to my double, non-fat latte. I think instead he added a double-shot of h8 and cough syrup.

*pours cup of coffee in the sink*

Discuss | 5 comments, muh friends

She loves this blog!

what gives?
Wednesday, August 14, 2002
02:28 p.m.
Seems if you walk a block and a half in your pajamas and wet hair to pick up the laundry basket you left in your car at 2:30 on a weekday afternoon, people look at you funny.

Discuss | 2 comments

frosted brown sugar and cinnamon is the only way
Tuesday, August 13, 2002
02:51 a.m.
While I enjoy bagels toasted (and who doesn't?) I have no patience for the wide-mouthed pastry toasters that require one to fish out a Pop-Tart with a plastic fork, only to succeed in mauling it to crumbles, thereby requiring her to dump the broken pieces of the sweetened, frosted nighttime snack onto the counter and glare, with contempt, into a large, cold glass of milk.

Discuss | 3 comments

the quiet can be deafening
Monday, August 12, 2002
12:15 p.m.
Living alone is something I haven't done for years. I once took a one-bedroom apartment in an historic old home in downtown Murfreesboro that was broken up into small apartments or studio rentals. I was young at the time, 19, and spent most of my time with my then-boyrfriend and in truth spent very few nights alone. I was at his house or he would sleep with me, but it was rare for me to spend more than one night or so waking up by myself.

I'm nearing the halfway mark to 30 and have found myself living alone yet again, this time without the comfort of a permanent bedtime partner. No one but me has drooled upon my new sheets and I haven't been anywhere overnighting. Besides my sister's which, while fun, left a little to be desired in the companion category.

Not that I mind, mind you. Actually, living by myself is very new and exciting. It presents wild oppurtunities you don't find when co-habitating like the sheer freedom that comes from making Jiffy Pop wearing nothing but socks and finishing off Annie Hall in the exact same getup.

I dance to songs outright when I feel like it now.

I sleep til noon, nap from six to eight, then doze off again at midnight. Sometimes I refuse to shower 'til 9 p.m.

But the lightbulb in my bathroom burned out and I'm not tall enough, or graceful enough, to attempt to change it with only the aid of my rolling computer chair on the slick, ridged tile. I bought a beautiful lamp that sits in pieces in the box waiting for assembly by someone with common sense and some tools.

And, it really seems, I need someone to remind me to buy salt and pepper, as it doesn't come standard with the apartment (nor does a broom or toilet plunger or silverware) or it won't get done.

But, I smoke indoors and use a whole roll of toilet tissue without ever putting it properly on the dispenser and sing and sing and sing. Overall a liberating singular experience. And I'm doing it all without cable and in a single room.

But my favorite thing to do in my new, tiny place is curl up onto the window sill and watch. I can sit comfortably there, in whatever I want, and remain unseen by the scores of people beneath me. The window is mostly obscured by a skinny tree which does little to interrupt my view of the sometimes bustling streets of downtown Murfreesboro. I watch women in coordinating jumpsuits walking briskly and chatting, dragging toy dogs by leashes underfoot. Mothers wrangling multiple babies, trying to make it across the street without an infant sliding down her hip or a toddler darting in front of the cable van. I watch men in cheap suits check their cheap watches and kiss their cheap girlfriends. I see kids in cars, paying little attention to traffic or traffic laws, displaying their fly-by-night philosophies on home-made bumper stickers. I am just a product, the hand-scrawled sticker informs me. There are three churches within the one-block radius and last night there was a "fellowship" and auction at the beautiful Presbyterian church attended by what looked like 50-60 pleasant-seeming people. Today I make the snatches of music I hear from car stereos as they pass my soundtrack for a Monday.

I watch and I sit and it makes me feel somehow connected on the nights when I think I start to feel alone.

Discuss | 8 comments

yes, yes, yup, yes, yep, yep, uh-huh, yes
Sunday, August 11, 2002
10:30 p.m.
You might be a Twin Peaks fan if...

Discuss | no comments

Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?
Saturday, August 10, 2002
12:15 p.m.
Which one will I choose?

Discuss | 8 comments

"Fuck me, I'm Drubk"
Thursday, August 8, 2002
12:18 a.m.
An example of unparagoned journalism from Murfreesboro's Daily News Journal, this city's only daily newspaper:

"In fact, only in America is ice cream such a universal sensation."

-Columnist Barb Ford from Lifestyle section article "One month not enough for ice cream"

* * *

Rebecca and I are unaware of where we stand at the supermarket.

Discuss | no comments

I went parking.
Wednesday, August 7, 2002
03:19 a.m.
On Monday I drove into Nashville to pick up my last paycheck from the film festival and on a whim decided to go to the Parthenon, a nearly-to-scale replica of the one built in Greece. My intentions were to see the art exhibit, but the columns, turns out, are closed on Mondays. So instead I grabbed my sunglasses and my camera and succumbed to the 100 degree heat to take photographs.

[For Amy, and for the rest of ya'll fools]

Discuss | 3 comments

new level of slovenly
Tuesday, August 6, 2002
03:29 p.m.
I no longer have that pesky day job, so I've taken this day (on which I'd normally be at work) to sit around in my Tori Amos concert tee eating yogurt and having entirely too much fun on the monkey bars.

Discuss | 1 comment

wish list (abbreviated)
Tuesday, August 6, 2002
12:55 a.m.
-a clear conscience

-smaller ass


-genuine interactions

-your hair splayed like unwound yarn on my pillow and your hand on the small of my back

-a bigger fridge

What you want? | 6 comments

everybody loves ellen
Sunday, August 4, 2002
03:59 a.m.
The girl. The stoner. The student.

Discuss | 3 comments

discover me discovering jen
Sunday, August 4, 2002
01:10 a.m.
There is something about this photo of Bryan's girlfriend Jen that gives me pause.

What could it be? | 3 comments

pass the lung butter
Saturday, August 3, 2002
11:28 a.m.
"I don't think this fits anyone's rap persona. PCP is capable of taking anyone out of their mind. This is bigger then hip-hop." (via metafilter, hosers.)

Discuss | no comments

Saturday, August 3, 2002
01:57 a.m.
I found that monkey that is sitting on my monitor after ten years.  It was given to me on my first ever date.
I live here now instead.

I look down on organized religion.
View from the crib.

Discuss | 3 comments

these tears are a luxury
Saturday, August 3, 2002
01:44 a.m.
"It is such a secret place, the land of tears."
Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

Discuss | no comments

I'll give you some more.


shutter to think: photos
currently reading
suggest reading
recommend a movie


aim: miscetcmiscetc (often)
icq: 125288105 (rarely)

webcam status: off

somewhat daily reading
metafilter | myfi
sweat flavored gummi
deep blue day
anil dash
britney blog
i must...
mighty girl
edgeling's infinite ocean
rabbit blog
neil gaiman's journal
little. yellow. different.
cockeyed absurdist
bottom dwelling

et alterum
twin peaks gazette
apt. 121 | aireline
rotten tomatoes
mr. cranky
mass transit
filepile | mypile

get around much: