Happy Amanda Palmer Day

This fruitcup tastes like metal. These drama students taste like metal. This reading tastes like fruitloops. I should have grabbed the plastic peach cups. It wouldn't taste like aluminum foil. It's like getting my tongue stuck to the playground in January. Fact. But, for some reason I was feeling nostalgic about the metal cups and my apple juice box and packed some snacks, being reminded of my grade school lunch routine. I was in a good mood this morning. I got up a half hour early with little trouble on only five hours of sleep. I havn't gottten tired of school yet. It's nice to get up and watch the sun come up as I drive across the county. This is one of few visual advantages of living on a flat, nearly barren wasteland. It's Tuesday again ,and again I'm surrounded by drama students. Yay for headphones. Yay for being in fourth year and throwing out random comments to second years who don't ask for my opinion that I so generously throw out to show that I'm eaves dropping, that I can easily burst their bubble. "You like reading Ayers?? Oh he's all rainbows and butterflies now, wait till you get called in to do emergency supply with no lesson plan and Ayers flies out the window." Then smile, "Oh don't get me wrong he's good, of course he might have bombed the pentagon (fact again) I'm just saying..." The look of fear on their faces almost makes me guilty for throwing around my smart ass senior cents. Oh babies, I was you, you will be me, it's a vicous cycle, a matter of time.

It's Amanda Palmer Day. I may or may not have shed a tear when I couldn't place my preorder. Some fucked up shit with the bank. All I want to do is throw money at people and they won't have any of it for no apparent reason. I'm wearing my t shirt in honour of it all. Today she might post new tour dates. I wanna go again. If God likes me today maybe there will be a show in Toronto and I'll go alone if I have to. And I'll be wild.

OH. Yesterday my favourite Yoga instructor came in to the rec centre. She looked at me up and down and said. "Look at you, you're friend, shes small town, you are not. You know you're not supposed to stay here right? Get out, get away, you don't belong here." I was taken back at first. I dream about what it would be like to up and leave all the time. Then I started thinking about what I'd be leaving, this town, this job, these friends, family. Which naturally led to thinking about who I'd be leaving. Not such a big deal. My parents aren't the clingy type, my friends would go on like normal, there's no boy begging me to stay. Hmmmm at first I'm thinking, good thing, but is this depressing? Noooooooot really.

Lisa says it would be good for me to find a man. A man who adores me and genuinely enjoys just being around me. And still gives me space, lots of space. But she says he better not treat me like a princess or I'd probably punch him. This is true. She says we should all find men to throw us against walls. Lisa is very smart.

I hope I go out tomorrow night. Maybe I'll go out regardless. Alone if I have to. I'm not going to see my drummer lover anymore. One day again. Face to face. And next time I'll say more than, "Hiiiayamfdkbthtjbe................." Dolt. I can be a dolt.

Much Who Killed Amanda Palmer love