Peace Frog

Feeling 90% better than yesterday-- at least my mood is tolerable. Actually, it was great at work today. I was on fire avec the knowledge.
Nathan put two copies of the Source on my desk this morning-- the local health food rag, not the American hip-hop one (which would've been cooler-- I remember getting copies free from Roger's). My first article was published-- that's all right I guess. It's ok. It's entitled "Stellar Nutrition for Pennies a Plate" and can be picked up at any health food retailer around NS. If nothing else, I taught Nathan alternate meanings/usages of "imperative" and "gamut."
Emily got home from Pictou Island at say quarter to five, we had a clothes bath (only my feet were in), while drinking gin and shooting the shit. Greg called. He got an nice suit for the wedding.
The we got sushi and soup at Andy's place. We watched Quinpool Road and saw Pat and Craig, as well as Jimmy and Anthony Marcioni (sp?) going to get fast food. For shame! Man, our waitress (and all waitresses at Japanese restos) was tiny. I'd definitely go to Japan if it would make me skinnier. And I fucking love Japanese food.
Then we came home and thought about seeing the fireworks, then didn't. We were talking about the Doors, a band I was obsessed with in Jr high, but haven't listened to in 5 years or so. So instead of going to smoke out our lungs at the special show at the Seahorse, we smoked here and drank Jack Daniels and sang to my Doors box and talked about what it would've ben like had we known each other in high school. Emily said "it wouldn't've been as special."
She's probably right.
And now she's in bed, and I sit here with candles and The Doors and think about being s teenager and hanging out alone in my room, or with boys, and listening to these albums, and writing poetry and dead roses in my black room and rock tshirts and dour thoughts and having no idea what being an adult would be like, and not even trying to think about it, luckily, because it would've ruined it.