tavie.com

Matt-duck, my sister loves Bjork. I myself am most intensely fond of Matt Besser's impression of Bjork.

I couldn't sleep much last night but I got up early to wait for the tile guy and the FedEx guy. The tile guy's come and gone but the FedEx guy has yet to arrive. It was the first time all summer I've forced myself to get up before I was ready and man, did it stink. But all for the love of a Big TV. (And the love of a Huggy Thuggy.

I'm seeing Kitana next week. Who's jealous?

And, I'm more fucked-up than all of you, Personality Disorder-wise. I consider it a point of pride.

Tomato stems are poisonous.

I was thinking: I go to college on the Upper East Side. It's not a terribly good college (my favourite description of it is erin's "what kind of ghetto school...??"--although it does its job, and there are some might fine folks there, and one of my favourite people in the world went there and she's a Goddess), but it is, ostensibly, in a good location.
It occurred to me today that there isn't a good coffee shop anywhere near it. Not even a Starbuck's. (Actually I think there is a Starbuck's a few blocks away, but I've never been.) There's an expensive little espresso bakery with no seats, and an overpriced Coronado a few blocks away, and a good coffee cart inside the building, but no good coffeehouse nearby for me to take my books and drown in latte and literature. It really makes me wish I'd tried a little harder, lived my life a little differently, gone to Columbia for keeps. There are a million good coffee places within two blocks of that fucking school, and a damn good coffee counter in the caf there.

It's all about the coffee, you see.

You college-bound chillunswith your eyes bright and your futures shiny and crisp and unpeed-upon, as you're shopping for your yet-to-be's, make sure to pay close attention to the availability of good coffee and a good place to drink it.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:47 PM | shower me with attention