2012-04-11 - 5:06 p.m.

Oh! I finally understand The Pixies. You need to be a little angry.

Leaving on Saturday for two weeks in southern Spain. I dreamt last night in pidgin Spanish. Woke up trying to figure out how to say I didn't want bacon in my eggs.

The girl at the Apple Store, today, was into this guy. She liked my whole deal. Her name was the name of an Asian car manufacturer. And: her skin was the color of coffee with lots of milk.

There's one particular journal--really, a website--that just refuses to publish my stuff. I've tried six, seven times. I've written for those editors, and have written with not a thought of them in my mind. I really liked this last one, too. I thought it was from the gut or the crotch or whatever but I thought they'd take it. Sometimes, when I get that form rejection email, I want to write back, rejecting their rejection. You know? Dear cold universe, I reject your coldness.

And maybe that's why I am finally getting The Pixies.

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