This day was shit. Work was extra boring. No one was there and they left me no work to do. It was hot, but not in a way that I like, so I was uncomfortable all day long. I used the extra time to do too many peer reviews for my class, smoke too many cigarettes, and get way too grossed out by my school book. Seriously. I was SO hungry, but no one was at work today to let me take my break, so I made myself a cup of tea, and snuggled up to The Omnivore's Dilemma.

All I have to say about that book is, "really? I mean, really?". I already know that food is disgusting and that half the shit we shove into our mouths didn't ever grow from the ground somewhere. I already know that people are greedy and are willing to be destructive in order to get the tiniest bit ahead. This book killed my appetite, forever. I felt like I was there with Pollan when he went to the feedlot to visit with his "beef". I felt like I was there when he described the cow's eyes being bloodshot from standing in its own shit all day and night. It made me think a lot, but unfortunately I'm not entirely sure how everyone in the house would take the news of my becoming a vegetarian other than vegan.

So there was all that. But then I got home and saw that the first school paper I've written in six years received an almost perfect score; 9.5 out of ten! That was the kind of news I needed to be sure that I'm doing it right. Sure it wasn't a ten, but it was GOT DAMN close, and I'm so fucking proud of myself right now that I think I might need an extra pillow for my extra giant head tonight.

Right after getting the news of my close enough to perfect paper, Annie called me and told me that a friend of her mother had two tickets to go see none other than FLEETWOOD MOTHERFUCKING MAC! I don't think there's a person in the world who is unaware of my deep and intense love for the Mac. They were my first favorite band outside of some "Rainbow Brite" and "My Little Pony" shit I used to blast. I'll never forget how the Chuck E. Cheese version of "Don't Stop" made me feel. Despite the creepy ass animatronic purple blob guy. What the hell is that thing supposed to be anyway?

So I went, and surprisingly the set was completely different from when I saw them in DC back in March. I cried at "Gold Dust Woman", I cried at "Stand Back", I cried at "World Turning"... ok, I cried the whole time. Music hits me harder after I've smoked, otherwise I probably would have only cried at "Gold Dust Woman". Stevie Nicks is my imaginary mother, and Lindsey Buckingham has NO IDEA about this, but he is my old man boyfriend. The hair, the face, the way he makes that guitar beg for mercy... oh lawd!

OK, I just watched some douchebag on David Letterman feed some chick spaghetti from a fork that was shoved up his nose. I think it's time for me to end this day on a rad note, I'm going to go to bed and pretend I didn't just see that. So, good night!!!