Yankee... Hotel... Foxtrot...

I'm in one of those mellow moods. I feel good. Almost like a stoned kinda good feeling, if that makes sense. I'm sure all of the stoners are nodding in earnest agreement whether they know what they're nodding about or not. Stoners are good for that. I should know, I was one once. Lord knows how many bags of Doritos and Oreos (not at the same time!) I went through. I've been listening to Bjork and Wilco today. I know, what a combination. It works somehow. I love, love, love Bjork's Medulla and Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, or YHF as I will refer to it from now on because I'm too lazy to type out the whole damn thing, is the reason for the mellow mood. It always makes me feel good. When I listen to it, I can push aside my worries just for a bit. Makes me want to listen to it constantly, but then I'd be like that guy in Office Space after he undergoes hypno-therapy and the doctor dies before he can snap him out of it. Not that that's a bad thing, but I think it'd annoy the hell out of everyone. I'm all about making you, the public, happy. Aren't I a martyr? All I do for you and you never write, you never call. Do you HATE me?! I can't bring myself to get worked up properly today. I feel that good. But MSN is starting to piss me off. The messenger keeps going offline. It's been doing that a lot lately.

The only thing that shook me up today was the realization that I'd soon be 29. So soon. Too soon. Now, I know 29 isn't old. I don't think it's old at all when someone else is that age. But 29 leads to 30. Not that 30 is old either. Well, not when it's other people turning 30. But 30 turns to 40 turns to 80 and so begins my slow, painful march towards death. Not that I'm afraid of death. I'm afraid of....well, age. It's like George said in last night's Dead Like Me about how old people are so...slow... I don't want to be slow. I don't want to forget things. I don't want to grow weaker, more dependent on people. I don't want to have to put Post-It notes on everything so I'll remember what they are and not confuse the brush for my pen or a mirror for a tv. I've seen that too many times in my older relatives. They range from the mildly forgetful to the seriously senile with some lovely dementia thrown in. It hurts to watch them. The confused, scared looks they get on their faces sometimes. And it scared the hell out of me. I might be like that one day. So this is what I think with each coming birthday. Cheery thoughts, no? I never thought I'd live this long, how will I deal with the future?

I need to blast some Wilco.

***

Sad:
Superman is dead.

Vindication:
Murphy's Law does exist! And here's the science to prove it.

Weird:
Solar eclipse will be over before it starts.