I always keep a bottle near

I've tried thinking of the most honest thing ever. Something that I could write in this blog and people would be so blown away by it that they'd have to go outside for some fresh air. And then they'd sit outside, take up smoking and reevaluate their lives because my five to ten words would make them question everything they've ever thought to be true. But I don't know if I have that sort of statement in me. I know I randomly come up with amazing one-liners without even knowing it and people tell me "wow, kiddo, that was amazing." If it were Eric, it'd be Julio or Kiddo, but never Champ. Either way, it's all shwatevs. I think we all look to leave an imprint on someone's life, ya know? We all seek that something so that we're more than just a name after we perish and our bones dissolve and recycle into the earth. I know I'd like a legacy for posterity. And I think I'm on this earth for something very important. I feel it in my bones that have yet to dissolve and recycle. But then again, maybe that's what I'm good for--returning nutrients back to the soil. Maybe that's what most of us are here for. Maybe. Just maybe.

I've listened to "Rehab" at least fifteen times so far and I'm not sure why. I heard it in H&M when Karen, Sam and I had a girls day in the City. And going down into the lingerie/girlie section, it was on the loudspeaker and I couldn't help but to sway my hips and head with the rhythym. And long after the song was over I continuted to hum it: "They tried to make me go to rehab, I said no, no, no." Just over and over again. When I was trying on cute halters, when I was picking through the clearance rack, when I was feeling bras for padding and fishing for the right size. It just wouldn't stop. And then I heard it today somewhere, sometime and when I finally sat down at my computer, I found the song and have been lovin' every second of its beat and lyric.

My red hair is fading. It's still turning my shower water red and I see some blonde peeking through. I gotta rid of those fuckers. But I should read more of sex...I'm SOOO behind on the paper because I haven't even met with my advisor yet. It's crazy, right? I have two weeks to do this shite and I haven't even met with an advisor yet. It's all retarded and I'm going to suffer for this, especially since I dont know what direction I'm going in, ya know? Fuckin' a. I gotta email this bitch and set some times straight. Ya dig?