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2002-11-17 - 7:07 p.m. i slept over my mom's house last night. i was woken up by the 70-year-old landlord fixing the door this morning. "what happened?" he asked. my drug-addled stepdad said, "oh, you know. i was high on ambien and fell over." everything is normal. my sister used the phrase "oh my god, this show is SO 90's!" in earnest last night. (she was talking about "family double dare", which really is) it made me feel really old. i kind of miss the early 90's (not that i remember much of them, but what i do remember is nice), before the internet, when famous rap stars dressed in ensambles that would get them laughed at today; when celebrities were nerdier and more innocent and alternative music was good and things seemed like they might get better. i was supposed to hang out with so many people today but everyone bailed on me. it's okay. it's raining and i think i'll go to barnes & noble soon and read magazines, which is my favorite thing to do when it rains. i asked a total stranger out on a date this weekend. well, not a *total* stranger, but close enough. it was a pretty bad date, but we made out on the subway platform and it was like the trains stopped running, that's how good of a kiss it was. even when a subway worker snarled at us we just hugged & went our separate ways and it was worth it. coney-island-bound W. neon mesh vests and dirty tile. 9th street. i also read a really good anecdote this weekend, about a performer who'd played at some mafia-run club. when he asked for the $ they owed him for performing, they allegedly said, "fuck you! we don't pay anyone, we're the mafia!" or something like that. so he took out a razorblade, quietly. they took out their guns, waiting for him to try & slash them. instead he made eye contact with one of them and slashed his wrist and let it bleed. and supposedly, these big tough guys got so freaked out that they just gave him the money and told him to get the fuck out. impressive, huh?
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