So, I went to prom Saturday, and the highlight of it wasn't what you would think. After prom, the four of us (yeah. me, my boyfriend, my best friend, and my best friend's boyfriend -- who just happens to be my boyfriend's best friend.) hung out and just were ridiculous and delirious, and at 4 AM we decided to go to Walmart to get blankets. Since the nearest 24 Hour Walmart was in the next town, we had to travel ten-ish miles to get there. My contacts fell out right before we started driving. Now, mind you, I have about 600/20 vision, which means if something's not half an inch in front of my face, all I can see are colors blending together. The ride to and from Walmart were wonderful. The lampposts were the best. The lights expanded and looked like dandelions floating in the air, since I couldn't even distinguish the posts. It was fantastic. Prom was everything you'd expect it to be, nothing more and nothing less. After prom was one of the greatest nights of my life, however. I can just hope things stay as surreally happy and comfortable and hopeful as they have been in 2007. Cheers.

Or, rather, I felt eight years old tonight. My dad and I went to a St. Louis Cardinals game tonight. Traveled the big two hours, listening to our respective music devices. Going to a baseball game is interesting for me, as I don't have an interest in baseball, but I'm never bored. I invented a game as we walked along the crowded walkways in the stadium. It was called Near Miss, and it was aimed at two groups: a) employees balancing boxes while walking, and b) fans holding cups in two hands. The point was to act like I was going to run into them and swerve at the last second and see if they dropped anything. It worked quite a lot, I was happy. ANYWAY. The game was fine, the Cardinals lost, and as it got cold I leaned into my dad, and he put his arm around me and it was fine. He is the most trusty man in the world, and I've learned that. After the game we were walking down the street, and I was awed by the police sirens and trumpet tunes, and I felt like I was eight or nine, walking with my father, looking up at all the tall buildings I've seen so many times, and wishing to be older so I can live in the city. But then I looked at the sky and could only see one star. Where I live, when you go outside at night, the sky is filled with stars, sparkling and twinkling and doing whatever the hell else stars do. It makes the world seem so much bigger, makes life seem so infinite. It's a nice feeling. ANYWAY. I've now realized that Triumphant --Royksopp is one of the best songs in the world. I've been listening to it fairly obsessively for the past four months, although I went through a phase that lasted for about two weeks where I only listened to three albums...Radiohead-Amnesiac, The Microphones-Live in Japan, and Elliott Smith-Either/Or. Anyway. When I listen to Triumphant, it has a different image every time. The one I have most often is being deliriously, wonderfully drunk, at a familiar house, with familiar faces, and just...wondering. However, I'm listening to the Pixies now, and they're making 2:40 AM pretty fucking bright.

I wake up, and absolutely cannot function. I skip the mornings. I need to stop, it's becoming horribly routine. Someone needs to sit me down and tell me how my life is rapidly going downhill, how I'm procrastinating and not giving a shit about anything, and how I need to start caring about things. I know all that. But I need someone to tell me. No one will, though. Maybe I'm the only one noticing. But, then again, I don't care enough to do anything. I live for the late nights of trying to do something in this bumfuck hell town. I live for this summer, when I'll see big cities, where I'll escape everything here. Goddamn, I think I'll go back to sleep.