–Went to Pitchfork; The Flaming Lips kicked a hole in the plaster surrounding my ironic-distance wall, and in flooded the Yoshimi and the robot and the battle.
–Saw Harry Potter and wondered when Hermione got so attractive.
–Danced like crazy in a sweaty, beer-y bar and finally understood the combo of loud bass plus alcohol plus friends.
–Realized that age 29 is creeping on up, which is crazy, because last I checked, I was squeaking towards 23. Then I remembered that I always wanted to be out of my twenties, because people over 30 seem much more self-assured and able to attack with grace and comedy the Rubix cube that is this existence, and so I thought, brain: stop the fussing. Plus, that’s in October. Plus, 30 is one year more than that.