Gaaaaaaah guuuurghh maaaaaau baaaaaaaaaashg oof.

The sounds of my frustration are BOOMING today.

Nick Melikian, congratulations! You are the biggest dickhead I know.

So. Tomorrow is the day of romance.
How momentous.

I don't have a valentine this year. Not even a postal one.

Please call me. Write me. Hug me or shake my hand, give me a pat on the back or a kick in the shin. Remind me that we are in each other's lives.

I feel like I have been disconnected from a whole lot.

- I've decided that my new favorite television channel is BBC because they get away with so much juice.
- My Tilly and The Wall ticket came in the mail two days ago so come the 29th, I will throw on my dancing shoes and a flashy little get up and dance the night away with "Escondido Nick."
- The man that I am so deeply intrigued with is now dating a cute little thing and I can't help but want to spit on her DIY clothing.
- I know I saw somewhere that Devendra Banhart was playing a show in Los Angeles in the upcoming months but now I can't track it down and that's making me feel like a) a mad woman and b) a fantasist.

And if one more guy decides that he's going to "just drive around" with me and then park in a spot hidden away in the hills near my house "for the view," play whiny Dallas Green and/or Explosions in the Sky crap and then try and shove his tongue down my throat and make me feel his pathetic little hard on through his jeans stained with his premature ejaculate I will forever turn on the male species. I mean really, c'mon.