- Hearing from Nikky last night, so I know she's not dead
- Sunshine warming my toes and being so golden and glorious that you wish you could pour it into a cup and drink it all in
- Contemplating the things that I've recently tried for the first time
- Wondering what good deeds I will manage to accomplish this week
- A&W Cream Soda
- Phil Keaggy's "Acoustic Sketches" album
Last night, Nikky and I formed an elaborate plan to deal with the traumatic loves we have had for years. All we need now is the money and to find ways around the Geneva Convention laws...
You see, what could be more brilliant than stranding the people that have truly crushed and maimed your heart on a tiny, sandy desert island somewhere in the south Pacific surrounded by rabid sharks and no communication with the outside world. There would be a speaker system that would play one song on continuous loop for a full month. One month would be a scratched, skipping version of the Jonas Brothers' "Lovebug," another would be "Honky Tonk Badonk a Donk" (however that's actually spelled), and maybe something by the Backstreet Boys or Kenny Chesney's "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy" at other times. We'd give them Crisco mislabeled as sunscreen. All the preprocessed food we'd drop for them would be wrapped in pictures of David Bowie's pants from "The Labyrinth." All their blankets and other forms of shelter would also feature that lovely photo. We'd leave them a guitar with the G and B chords missing, a defective camera, and a biting hamster for entertainment. We might even let a group of angry weasels live with them on the island.