When I was cruel.

In the passed two months, I haven't been able to listen to the final three minutes of Ron & Fez due to the fact that they end every show with Satellite Of Love, which, ironically, is how I got into Lou Reed. I try to time my XM listening sessions around the '48-52 minute-after-every-third-hour' mark. When I get lazy, or accidentally turn the show on towards the end, I either throw on a random Winamp track or immediately bring up my Myspace to allow another source of music to drown out what used to be my favorite Lou Reed song. I have held my cell phone in my hand at 9:00am, ready to call Ron & Fez to explain that their close-out song now kills me due to the good chance that I may have conceived my dead baby to it.

Speaking of which- babiesrus.com, make it possible to delete a goddamned baby registry, will you? I will not call, I refuse to do more than click. My inability to think about the topic for over thirty seconds handicaps me from making a phone call and destroying the main online reminder.

The whole 'ups and downs' gimmick actually exists. Who would've believed that? I've run out of Scrubs (my balancing medication) to watch, now the room takes over. In reality this ceiling has pretty much witnessed everything. I wish it would keep its mouth shut.

Growing up, I never understood somebody being upset or sad over a relationship that ended. My logic had been "You got to live it, be happy"- the whole "Better to have loved and lost" only simplified to a fifteen year old's mind (or made more complicated). Looking back, I can say that the experiences I've had give a twenty one year old me better ground to stand on for this topic- I just have less desire to talk or type about it right now, despite my constant thinking about it.

I had a great catch-up conversation with Anhvu today. Anhvu is an asian friend I've been associated with online for at least six years. He and I have heard all of each other's stories as pertains to our lives with females, although we sort of drifted during his Virginia Tech years. We're the future of poetry, thus the future of literature. Just think of those lucky saps who get to know us now.