I�m drinking soup that looks like pee. I have a tampon in my back pocket. My long sleeve knit shirt is coming apart at the collar despite the little Tommy Hilfiger emblem of supposed quality on the wrist, and I still wear it to work. My glasses were under my bed this morning. The only thing I watch on the free cable is Monster Garage, although sometimes I catch the pretty people show (Smallville). When I come home after work, I usually run into the door dropping everything in the hallway to the bathroom, scramble to get me pants down just in time not to catch the damn breaking in my pants. I constantly think about strangers and strange places. I have to say, though, my imagination is much better than reality for the most part, which is probably why I like to make films and music and the sort. Perpetuating pretend is my forte. I�m convinced I can make it real. (in France, maybe)

Give me an excuse to take a trip.