2003-02-12 - 6:41 p.m.
I did this somewhere else ages ago, but I thought updating it would be fair enough seeing as I have about 4 nanoseconds free time per day at the moment.
PAST
first grade teacher's name: Mrs Duxbury
last word you said: "�fuck."
last song you sang: Lowdown by My Morning Jacket, in the shower.
last thing you laughed at: some graphics in the newspaper about how terrorists could take out jet planes � not the sentiment, but the ridiculous rendering.
PRESENT
what's in your cd player: Mix CD from Bruce Unhappyboy
what color socks are you wearing: Black
what's under your bed: I�ll just look. A sock, a cigarette, and part of a wrapper from, well, let�s just call it �an item�.
what time did you wake up today: 8am, and then 8.15 when I saw the shower was busy.
FUTURE
where do you want to go?: wherever my friends are. Plus, Iceland.
what is your career going to be: writer of vaguely sarcastic but inconsequential newspaper columns, or the oldest admin assistant on the planet.
where are you going to live?: down the road, that�s where I�ll always be.
how many kids do you want?: none, or less if possible
what kind of car will you have?: a sidecar
CURRENT
current hair: I�m doomed to the Moby look forever now.
current clothes: light blue adidas t-shirt, shorts as the heating is on �furnace� setting
current annoyance: that moving house isn�t fully automated by now
current smell: dust
current longing: someone to waste a day in bed with
current desktop picture: scene from the film Glengarry Glen Ross
current favourite artist: the ones I know personally
current book: Naked by David Sedaris
current worry: that I suck as a human being, war, in that order
current time-wasting wish: anything but internet surveys
current hate: my life in boxes
current favourite article of clothing: my stripy shirt
favourite physical feature(s) of the opposite sex: eyes, hands, lips, minor scars, watches, hair
do you believe in an afterlife?: nah
one person from your past you wish you could go back and talk to: my twelve year-old catholic self
one person you wish was here right now: it could be you
a line from the last thing you wrote to someone: "I guess coherence is a relative term with me�.
