these are the posters that are hanging in my room:

-james dean, with a cigarette.
-goodfellas, with deniro, pesci, sorvino and liotta group shot.
-the usual suspects, with spacey, byrne, del toro, baldwin, and pollock.
-the godfather, with brando holding cat.
-goodfellas, with pesci swinging gun wildly.
-bob dylan.
-reservoir dogs, with madsen, buscemi, roth, penn, keitel group shot.

i don't know.  the more i look at this thing, the more i think it's just a vessel for when i'm feeling down.  it's like that best friend you only call when you need someone to cry to.  okay, so i don't really have a friend that i do that to, but i could.  oh yes i could.

this isn't helping me at the moment.  lindsay is home.  work is good.  i'm totally happy.

but as soon as i start to feel bad, journal, i know you'll be here for me.

also:

"The Bond films work exclusively by themselves. People go to these movies to escape from life. Hollywood is going to go back to making these kind of action movies. And September 11th will fade in people's minds because there is money to be made. It's about commerce."
--pierce brosnan

he's right.  i bet after the titanic first sank, anyone who said "people will stop caring about the titanic sinking" was publically crucified.  but, we all went to see that movie, didn't we?  christ, i hope there's never a september eleventh movie.  i hope his words are disproved.  but i doubt they will be.

i've finished american psycho and one flew over the cuckoo's nest.  so, that means i'm only reading two books at the moment - how the great religions began, which i bought at the school book sale, and raise high the roofbeams, carpenter.  however, last night, i also started tom robbins' another road side attraction.  i'll never get to the point where i'm reading nothing.

i love my job.  and once lindsay finishes her up for the day, we're going to rita's for italian ice.  the other night after a trip to blockbuster, she subjected me to kate and leopold.  however, she viewed and enjoyed pi and also bought me mullholland drive, o brother where art thou? and made, all previewed on vhs.  blockbuster is running a buy two, get one free sale.  so that's what we did.  bought two and got one free, i mean.

i am happy.  utterly happy.  for some reason, happiness can sometimes feel less satisfying than sadness.  i guess becaus most of my best work is born out of pain, eh?  bitter poetry about longing is always better than the happy, content, complacent poetry about love, isn't it?  so, when i'm happy, i'm much less productive than when i'm sad.  i guess because i have no much more time on my hands in times of sadness.  more time to brood.  isn't that something?