Drove down 732 looking for something that I ultimately did not find, but returned satisfied, regardless. I had missed the bus and had time to spare, so I went for an impromptu joyride with Yo La Tengo as my passenger. Sun was out, grass was green, wind picked up and had my fingers testing its strength as my hand lazed through the open window. I felt like I was in a car commercial; and what do you know, the Walkmen comes on and everything comes around, full circle...

I had something to say to someone but forgot to say it, the frustrating thing is I remember later on, but it's not as pertinent as I would have liked it to be. Pete Yorn's line "what makes you tick, it makes me smile" just popped into my head, and it made me think of a story I'd been sitting on. Was on the bus the other day, and we went through uptown in slow motion it seemed like, and I watched as two older women sat, in a parked car, and debated where to go to lunch. Finally, one steps out of the car and starts walking towards Wendy's, and the other has no option but to follow. Both are wearing pantyhose, blazer and a skirt. Their ankles remind me of my great-aunt's; bulging like sausages, pinched by their shoes. One catches up to the the other and they link arms. It's a kind smile on one's face, and the other is pensive, like maybe she just remembered she forgot her wallet at home. My idea was to write something about this abstract notion of the continuity of life. I never noticed it, but I got old, that sort of thing, except it's a seventy-three year old woman thinking it. Somehow, it seems a touch more endearing.

Earlier this morning, I was looking for Hueston Woods, just to get a feel for what being completely by myself would be like, to be absolutely and completely immersed in my thoughts and no distractions. I like that idea. I haven't thought in a while; it's not a process I trifle with because it obviously takes so much effort and time, and people think I space out. I guess I do, but it's not as vacuous as I look. So much of what I do now is just instinct. I wake up, shower, eat. Talk, drive, walk. Sit, write, cough. Sometimes though, I have to remind myself to breathe.

...after going for a couple more minutes and realizing I probably drove right past it, I ended up turning into a No Outlet driveway and pulling right back around, at this point Interpol was on and I realized how much the beginning of that song sounded like Red Hot Chili Peppers' "By the Way", which was disturbing. A black SUV was barreling down the road behind me, and the carefree spirit was jolted right out. I was thinking, What's your hurry, buddy, and like that Radiohead song, Idiot, slow down. But you know, he never did and I raced back into town, adrenaline coursing. For once, thank god.