At the Stars

maybe i should drop you at your door
or leave tonight and vanish up the shore
anywhere but here

it's 3:00 we're driving in your car
you're screaming out the window at the stars
please don't drive me home

blame us cuz we are who we are
hate us cuz you'll never get that far
and who'd suppose you would go?
I've already learned enough to know.

tell me all the places we could go
and count the headlights passing on the road
a long long time ago

here we are
foreign to their world
straight and composed
your sermons i can do without
and i finally found
that everybody loves to love you
when you're far away

could it be we've done something wrong
we'd make it home ot your place before dawn
please don't take me home
please don't take me home
i'll be alright someday

--Better than Ezra

heh.. great song.

there is something quite fictional about my house. If i were a better writer I'm sure I could capture it, but then again how good a writer do you have to be to describe 2 walls of candyland plum purple and 3 walls that could best be described as the ungodly lovechildren of a peach and an orange.

my family is now somewhere near to california, soon to be very much there. disney land awaits them, and lots of work and a good bit of play await me. I would have liked to have gone on an airplane, but I'll be having an adventure of my own. a house to myself. of course there will be a party... on the 15th in the evening. im just going to let it happen. if i try to make it into anything i know i'll be disappointed, so it's just gonna be what it is.

i want to win tickets to see better than ezra. i'd like to be an official ezralite. cuz that would just do so much for my koolness factor.

oh and just when you think you're boyfriend is retarded... he leaves you speechless.

me: "wow, you're really retarded. Seriously, you're decision making is so bad, I'd better start picking out your shampoo for you."

you: "i already bought shampoo."

me: "great comeback."

in another attempt to work out frustrations-- I blog.

3 things that bother me

- my mother "borrowing" my clothes and keeping them in her closet
- my father taking his frustrations with my mother out on me
- my boss's lewd jokes and nasty temperment

yep that'll do for now. my boss... my big boss pharmacist who owns the place.... he is a real bastard. I have no problem saying that, despite the fact that today is his birthday, because of the way in which he treats people. Take, for example his grandson. His grandson scott took over for me yesterday when I left work. Phil, the mean pharmacist grandfather called scott a pussy, because he was unhappy with the way he was working. And when walking out at the end of the night, while surrounded by friends he was taking to dinner, phil told his daughter (she was there to pick up scott) that her son was a pussy.

happy birthday, asshole.