Here it is late again. I wonder if there’s something wrong with me.
Dave Matthew’s Band is playing behind me- the CD, I mean; telling me he’s “23 and so tired of life- such a shame to throw it all away”. Funny, I can relate. It’s melancholy. Sobering. Sort of what I need to sort out my head on a night like this. It’s H’s old CD collection that I’ve taken over. Not that he noticed or cared. And it saves me buying anything really new.
I have found that I am downloading a lot lately though a couple services. Napster was okay at first, but I’m finding it less and less useful now. I rarely get a chance to listen to much music now with Elle spending so much time in the car. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. I love taking her home- and I get to do it more now football is over. Then days when I don’t chapel, or detention. (I’ve had detention twice this year for being late. Fair enough.) I take her shopping on the weekends, and where ever else. She hops in and puts a CD right in- sometimes even before the door shuts.
Elle spent last summer in England with her Grandparents- before we got together, and she came back with this whole arsenal of British music that no one has ever heard of, but she insists on educating us brutes. I let her do what she wants and it makes her happy.
I saw Sara tonight, I should say. I don’t mind writing 'Sara' because no one calls her that anymore- but a few people anyway. I only call her that in private. Just as a sort of personal thing between us. And when we’re by ourselves, she just totally unwinds, which is cool to see. She smokes and swears and gossips and is just herself for the twenty or thirty minutes we’re alone. She tries to get me to smoke a bit, but I can’t stomach it and she tries to get me to bring her some alcohol, but I can’t get it. She says- if only I was older. I won’t be that age for a long time- I have to keep telling her, but she still acts like my 21st birthday is just around the corner.
I wish.
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