They sing a song my poor heart never can forget

I've been pretty good, especially lately, about considering what food I allow down my hatch. Last night, though, I decided to loosen the shackles of healthy living and walk over to The White Hen and buy some sparkling water and a bag of mint-flavored Milanos. Somehow I rationalized that I owed it to myself and Pepperidge Farm to enjoy two or three, conceivably four---ok, maybe five if things get out of hand---of their exquisite cookies. I decided it was best not to get in the way of this thought process and went forth to meet my destiny. Should have just got the water.

In all candor, I nearly ate the entire bag of cookies. I knew the day would come when I'd cross the threshold from snacking to gorging, from etiquette to savagery, when it came to these treats. I just didn't think it would happen last night. The only thing that made me feel less lousy about the incident was that I at least left a few in the bag.

A subsequent frank assessment of the situation, however, revealed the effect wouldn't have been all that different if I had gone all the way and committed cookie genocide and left not a trace of their existence: I still committed the sin of excess. To that end, I went for a long, guilt-born power walk to burn off some of the calories and shame, if possible. It was my penance for a foul deed committed. I'm not out of the water yet, though; things look to turn grim later on; I see a quick and brutal end to the aforementioned remaining few cookies. God damn Milanos!

Though I've been weakened by the black arts of Pepperidge Farm---not only the Milanos possess me, but the Goldfish, too--- I am determined to crawl out from under this thing. It won't be easy, will take guts, determination, and a healthy attitude---three things I have in spades---to escape from the prison camp that is Pepperidge Farm, but escape I will.
--

I'm not really looking forward to this wedding I'm going to on Saturday. I'm not close with that side of my family (my mother's) and I imagine there's going to be a lot of sizing up beneath the small talk. It's been years since I've seen any of them; I hope it won't be too awkward an experience.

Ah, I'm sure it'll be alright. It will probably be a fun time, culminating with me sleeping with one of the hot bridesmaids later that night. I'll make her breakfast the following morning (fresh fruit, coffee, and scones) and later on, when I drop her off at her car, I'll say: "Look, baby, last night was some magical shit. We painted a physical masterpiece on the canvas that was my bed and the long and the short of it all is I think I've fallen in love with you. You make me want to be a better man.

And she'll reply: "Isn't that last thing you said a line from that Jack Nicholson movie, the one with that blond lady from Mad About You.

"As Good As It Gets?"

"Yeah, that one. Isn't what you said from that movie?"

"No."

And then, after we hug and kiss for awhile, we'll agree to become boyfriend and girlfriend.
--

Been munching on some Lee Hazelwood, Lee Scratch Perry, Townes Van Zandt, and the new Sigor Ros these past few days. Good stuff and they all have one thing in common. Know what it is? I'll tell you: they're all from Iceland. Nah, I'm just pulling your leg, but I meant what I said about it being good stuff.
--

I'm up to two new songs and of course the only thing they need are lyrics, because I approach writing lyrics with the same enthusiasm I'd extend to a midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. But I'll get 'er done, as Larry the Cable Guy is wont to say, and have a pair of new songs I'm content with under my belt.

I'd taken about a month off from doing any songwriting; didn't even pick up the guitar once. What I did instead was listen to a ton of music, more than usual and all across the map. And by listen, I mean actually sit there and absorb what was coming out of my speakers. I'll go through periods like this at least once a year. Music is still an education for me, and as I've discovered during this last stint of focused listening, there's still a lot to learn.