Love is like an itching in my heart and baby, I can't scratch it

Oh, Linda Ronstadt. You may be a dirty communist, but I love you.
So this is how my Saturday night ends. This is how my formerly promising Saturday night ends: writing on my goddam blog while listening to Linda Ronstadt.

I know that it's depressing, but allow me, for a moment, to vent about all the crap that really bothers me right now:
Barry Zito is going to be traded.
Lonely.
Finals Week.
Phonenite tomorrow.
Going to dances with the mentality of "I don't need alcohol to have a good time" only to realize that you're only lieing to yourself.
Alone.

Yeah, when you write it down, it doesn't look like much. But it sure feels like it.

A man once said "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you'll find you get what you need." Yeah, Mick Jagger was full of bullshit.

Hopefully I'll be more jovial by the next time you see me.

I've had bad dreams too many times
To think that they don't mean much anymore
And fine times have gone and left my sad home
And the friends who once cared just walk out my door

But love has no pride when I call out your name
And love has no pride when there's no one but myself to blame
-Linda Ronstadt

Comments

Anonymous said…

Sounds like someone could use some cookies, hm?

December 4, 2005 at 12:02 PM

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