I have been reading a lot. Books rock. There is no fucking thing better than curling up behind a book.

My bosses are out of town for the week at a shoe show in Las Vegas, so, I spend much of my day listening ot loud music in the office alone (and I've been taking quick jaunts to the book store to look at camera magazines). I need to sleep more. But Scotty doesn't really seem to understand that sometimes. Or maybe he does and I just want to stay up and play, but I dunno, I'm tired. That's all I'm trying to say. I have been taking out this exhaustion on Scott. He deserves my short fuse, on occasion, but more often than not, I've been finding that my reactions are amplified above what is called for, or what I intend. This makes me sad. I also have been out of Diet Pepsi for a while now, and I don't think it fucking helps, goddamnit. And no one else in this fucking house will buy them, even though a bunch of people I don't even know drank all of them at a party a week ago. So fuck that shit. Money sucks. I hate worrying about it. I'd buy more, but I'm nearly broke and I don't want to buy groceries until I get paid on Friday. And they've been cutting back my hours, those motherfuckers, so I don't have as much extra money. FUCK!

I hate bitching about htis shit.

I like: anal sex (with Scott), Cock Sparrer, the boss being out of town, Hasselblad, reading about photo, cooking stuffed vegetables, Diesel clothes, heroin (though I am never doing it again), X-Acto knives (for art purposes only, thank you, but I ain't no goth), my tattoo, Dave Eggers and other new favorite authors (Chabon, Soehnlein, etc.), Tilda, the light at 6 in the morning, the wife, music that annoys everyone else, Holgas, clean clothes and towels, Ted Baker, London, Berkeley, Uni-Ball Gel-Impact writing implements (1.0mm only, please), Sharpie writing implements, getting my fingers stuck together with superglue, removing the superglue with superglue remover, Caitlin, Scott, Nick, Frank, Max, The Exploratorium, PS1, the way I cry when I cut onions. Okay, more tomorrow.

Things I don't like: speeding tickets, rent, money, fake friends, all the pretentious condescending people at the Porter Photo Guild Darkroom, being out of school, Falkner and other stupid authors, people trying to push drugs and drink on me, smoking, wanting to smoke even though I hate smoking, Yoko Ono's solo work, Irish dance, crack cocaine, the lack of heating in my house, the boss, the smell of feet, broken cameras, wasting polaroid film by fucking up transfers and emulsion lifts, useless junk I collect in my drawers and on my desk, my computer obsession (or at least my computers consumption of my time), Doug's complacent friendship with me, The Clash's stupid stuff (Combat Rock), Ani DiFranco, balancing a checkbook (I still can't do it), racism, heroin, forgetting shit. Ok. More later.