tomorrow i turn 20. i am horrified. i have been spending the last few weeks hanging out with my mom, suffering from unpleasant night sweats, enjoying some fairweather football fandom, being disappointed by flaky friends, and reading novels. jammin z90's flashback lunch hour has been excellent every day i've heard it, and i went to los angeles and it was magical. am seriously considering moving there for grad school. everyone is famous, everything is big and wide and full of novelty, and there is a roller coaster. incredible.

listen, i had the most incredible dream the other night. i was at a show in mexico city, and i met this teenage kid who was in a dbeat band and he was wearing a government issue shirt but it was styled like one of those uniform choice shirts that looks like

U.C.
STRAIGHT AND ALERT
STRAIGHT AND ALERT
STRAIGHT AND ALERT
STRAIGHT AND ALERT
STRAIGHT AND ALERT
STRAIGHT AND ALERT

but it said

G.I.
SHIT FARTS
SHIT FARTS
SHIT FARTS
SHIT FARTS
SHIT FARTS
SHIT FARTS

man, it was sick, can you imagine that? really great. i am enjoying the rhythms of suburban life for the most part, but i'm ready to return to winter misery (no night sweats, at least) and hang with some people who at least act like they like me. sheesh. hopefully punk brunch, very exclusive polenta dinner, nonstop television watching (oh yeah, we have two tvs in our tiny 2 bedroom apartment now, how about that? steph doesn't even know yet!), and daily record shopping can recommence at their regular clip. maybe polenta dinner should happen more than its usual clip.

so uh, happy birthday to me, right? i can't believe i'm not going to be a teenager anymore. i think my parents are getting me a swiss army knife for my birthday, and my sister's getting me oven mitts. i hope someone bakes a cake.