I think I've finally figured out what it is that's been keeping me from complete happiness all these years: the movies.  Cinematic adventures are a great escape from reality, but what happens when they in fact become one's reality?  I spent my entire childhood under the impression that high school would be just like it was in 90s teen movies--filled with cliques, Nirvana, and horribly obvious stereotypes.  Surely you can imagine my dismay upon discovering just how boring it turned out to be.  Of course, I was only 11 in '99, but still, was She's All That really too much to ask for?  I wasted 4 years of potential mediocre happiness thinking one day Freddie Prinze Jr. would come steal my glasses...and maybe my heart.  Even now I can see a movie and assume things like that happen every day, when I know in my head that they don't.  A one-fourty-something IQ is no match for a heart held captive by Disney.  I mean, it's not like I'm waiting for Prince Charming here, I just don't want to settle.  And if that means moving to New York City in hopes that I'll get a romantic date on a rooftop with some big apple cutie, or flying to Los Angeles & stalking Shia LaBeouf when he gets off the set of his latest movie, then I really only have one question left: Who's with me?!

Dear Love,
    I’m writing you this letter from the bottom of my empty heart.  It’s not that I’ve been avoiding you; on the contrary, it feels as though you are the one who’s been avoiding me!  Did you think I wouldn’t notice you leaving?  I mean sure, at first I must admit I didn’t hear you creep out in the middle of the night, and your timing was perfect.  I was so busy, it didn’t even dawn on me for months that you were missing.  Nice job by the way sending your friend apathy to me as some sort of replacement.  You can have him back though--I’d rather deal with loneliness.  At least then I’d have something to wait for.
    But anyway, I digress.  Our relationship, or rather lack thereof, for the past few years has been rocky at best.  There was a time when I thought we had a chance together, but I was young and naïve.  You filled my childhood with silly dreams of romance that I knew in my heart were too good to be true.  Still, every time my mother kissed my forehead as she tucked me in at night, or I came home from school to the smell of my grandmother’s cooking, or my dad held me up on his shoulders to help me climb up in my favorite tree, I also felt you right there with us, and I knew you couldn’t be all bad. 
    So I chose to believe the lies you fed me, despite my better judgment and cynical nature.  True love?  Oh sure it exists.  Just watch all of these movies starring--ME!!  Even Disney took part in your tired charade of fooling innocent children into believing in your unquestionable existence.  And I thought the Tooth Fairy was bad!
    So, I’m writing you this letter, not as a lover scorned, but as a schoolboy would write to Santa Claus on Christmas Eve, having recently been informed by a friend that he does not exist, but hoping in his heart that somehow he might be wrong.  I know you will probably never get this letter, but maybe, just maybe, if there’s even the tiniest chance that I could be wrong (and I often am), I’ll send it anyway, cross my fingers, and hope that you change your mind and come back to me.  We were close once, weren’t we?
                                     Here’s hoping,
                                                    Amaliah

because i'm easily excited.

re-recording old music today.  previously my harmonies smelled of turpentine; now all that remains is the slight odor of rotten tomatoes, and for the time being, i can live with that.
working all day........tomorrow   tuesday, recording more with em.  wednesday, oriental food store with my grandmother.  thursday = my birthday!!  friday, probably working...but saturday, oh sweet june 21st, beginning of summer, longest day of the year--a day to go down in history--will be spent on blackwater river with a few canoes/kayaks, tons of snacks, and some really swell peoples.  saturday, here i come