  S left on her trip today, but not before calling me on my office doorway weirdness. Fuck. I don't know why I get the way I do. It's ridiculous I know. I just start feeling so...polite? Respectful? I dunno. It's weird. So yes, When Harry Met Sally has nothing on the weirdness that is this. Then, as I reviewed the playlist I made her for her trip for the eight-millionth time, I realized some of the lyrics are sort of innappropriate.
Maybe that isn't the right word. I just don't want anyone getting any ideas. Unfortunately pop music really hasn't found a way to write a song about whatever this is so you sort of have to find what you can and make it fit. That's why it's so advantageous to be able to put twelve or so tracks on one CD; I can take something from here and something from there and make it all cohesive.
Sort of. Plus it's just nice to give your friends good music to listen to on long trips, car or otherwise. I hope I am not the only one who can see the ironic value in that Daft Punk song. I mean other than the Gap's advertising agency. This concludes tonight's emotionally indirect blog post. Who am I afraid of? My Powerbook? 
