sunday june 9 2002    |    12:00 a.m.

ah, the witching hour. how appropriate. i should be turning into a pumpkin right about now.

in fact, i am about to get into a black dress and black knee-high boots and go get my goth on at the kitchen. and i fully intend to be at work at 8:30 in the morning. although my father (who, apparently, is bitterer still than i) told me to "screw 'em" and call in sick. wow. things have really changed in just a few years.

today i celebrated the overcast sky and rain and pending club jaunt and generalized ennui by ordering the new peter murphy and an old wolfsheim. maybe i should retitle these ramblings "the conspicuous consumption journals." i don't know what it is with me lately, that i think i can live large. or at least dupe myself into thinking i can.

what did fritz call it the other night when she phoned? a vacation? summer camp? a sabbatical? whatever it is, i'm riding the wave, or something like that.

so. i'm off to shake my butt in the strobe light. good night all, and good parties.