2001-04-09 :: 10:39 p.m.

You know, they always find me no problem but they never stay. And it's not just the recording in my head talking.

Drummer Boy drops the dreaded "Let''s just be friends" spiel and I'm left thinking he's a shmuck and a half, with two functioning brain cells.

I'm doing the solo thing again. Anyway, it's not so bad. Now I don't have to feel terrible about making out with Tallboy or flirting shamelessly at a party. I've still got game and shit. Ha.

He said he didn't want to get hurt and that's what was in store with me. He was sure of it. Whatever. Like I'm some steamroller, like I crush spines and reduce men to tears left and right, leaving a trail of wounded hearts and mangled bodies in my wake.

I don't buy it and I don't care.


I went to my mom's apartment after work today to collect the mail while she's in Paris and I went through some ancient photo albums. What is it with me lately and old pictures? Anyway...

I found my mom's wedding album. I haven't seen those pictures since my parents got divorced in '86. And I remembered the one that was ripped in half. My whole life that picture was always torn width-wise. And then taped back together with scotch-tape. i never thought twice about it back then.

It's a picture of my mom laughing and feeding cake to my dad. And it struck me as I stood there, a grown person of 25 years, that the rip was made by one of them, in anger. One of them ripped up their wedding photo during a fight. And then felt bad and taped it together.

And I just got so sad because how fucking sad is that? My parents' crumbling marriage manifested in a ripped wedding photo. Jesus.

I never want to get a divorce.

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