this sucks and you know it

in seattle. had a couple of italian margaritas with dinner.

my hair is doing its stupid poofy thing again. but what care i for such shallow matters?

i can see how, potentially, a hotel room could be the perfect environment for the creative process. someone to clean for you (a man needs a maid) and ultimate solitude all day and night. i brought my clipboard with lots of paper and on the drive up i drew something really cool. a depressed, forsaken, fey little bunny rabbit. i also read a couple hundred pages in my nerd book. being forced to listen to small talk between two people feigning interest in each other’s insipid “interests” for 5+ hours was almost enough to make one vomit. and, at times, the music was so bad it felt like poison. i tried to sleep but my seatbelt was choking me so i looked out the window instead. and now i feel awesome. reach for the stars, head in the clouds, world-conquering awesome.