8/1/04 "I'm for anything that gets you through the night, be it prayer, tranquilizers, or a bottle of Jack Daniels. But to me religion is a deeply personal thing in which man and God go it alone together, without the witch doctor in the middle." — Frank Sinatra meanwhile, back at the ranch I'm too vanilla for my own good. Also I'm too vanilla for your own good. This always feels like my greatest failure. oh joy I found my shorts! No more sweatpants after work when I do my Fred Rogers ritual. Now I can be cool in my shorts rather than mildly uncomfortable in my sweatpants. I have found my shorts. Hurray! That's thanks to picking up around the apartment on Saturday. even more joy Blue moons. You know they're the second full moon which appears in a single month. The term also says something which doesn't come around too often. Once in a blue moon. Saturday was definitely a blue moon. The second full moon in July, a literal full moon. My Saturday night was wonderful, really wonderful. I am happy. The nice bit is knowing there won't be a crash and burn. Sure one can chalk this up to outrageous optimism. The proof? I'm writing this section of today's entry at 2 a.m. on 8/1/04. In the past whenever I'd write anything for my site it'd end up being mewling diary_spivak bullshit. What was the high point? Watching Rushmore and TV after Rushmore. The low point? Eating at Phantom Canyon Brewery. The food wasn't that good and it's repeating on me something fierce which made for personal awkwardness. And to think when I was hanging around on Tejon, lost in thought, I was describing myself to myself as selfish, restless and solitary. What a difference a night can make. Shit, I feel so good and happy that I can't even write straight so I'll end it here.