doing almost everything in a kind-of sort-of style.

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maybe i am currently...
listening to:
iron and wine
the sea and the rhythm

obsessed with:
one year and sixteen days from today.

looking at:
letters making words making sentences making stories.

flirting with:
success.

wanting to:
just fucking do it and stop pussyfooting around.

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pretty pictures

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archives
july 2004
june 2004
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february 2004
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october 2002
september 2002
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march 2002
february 2002
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december 2001
august 2001
july 2001
june 2001
may 2001
april 2001
march 2001
coygirl archives

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other junk
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tell me stuff.
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blog me stuff.

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i made this for you so you can link to me because i love you when you love me and etc.

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elsewhere
alan
richard
ben
boingboing
bryan
denise
claudia
greg
robert
doctorow
dakota
daniel
douglas
megan
josh
van
halfempty
anonny
emory
ted
jennifer
laurel
katie
keith
kottke
justin
lisey
maura
nick
nedia
jason
peter
pippa
kristen
rebecca
cory
charles
albie
tammy
toadboy
thomas
andre
gregory
lauren
matty
opus

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5.31.2001 - link

there was once a time when i deemed it a good idea to have a significant other move in with me after about a month of knowing him. he moved from his college town to my college town and into my very tiny (under 400 sq. ft.) one bedroom apartment. the first night he was there, we were so happy to be sleeping in "our" new apartment together that instead of sleeping we got it on. oh yeah, did we ever.

note: this was back when i was still using a futon for a bed.

so there we were, in the throes of passion, really rockin' the casbah, when one side of the futon frame sort of cracked. it was definitely jarring, but we couldn't be stopped. we were on FIRE! eventually we had to stop and institute a temporary solution to the sagging frame. i propped an old milk crate under the broken part and we got back to business.

at this point we were in this groove where nothing was going to stop us. not rain, nor hail, nor dark of night was going to prevent us from finishing up at this point. nothing, that is, except for a giant, horrendous cracking futon that snapped in half and folded us into it.

"don't stop...god, please don't stop right now. this is the worst time to stop. i am RIGHT THERE!" he pleaded.

"ahahahahahahaha. haha. ha ha ha ha hahahahaha." i replied, squished between the two sides of the futon.

"don't laugh. come on. focus. concentrate. i'm begging you!" he said, gasping for breath.

"ahahah. i can't breathe! ahahaha haha ha ha hahaha haha!" i answered again.

and that was it. the end of the sex, the end of the futon frame...but the fucktaco lives on.



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5.30.2001 - link

most recent.

- link

if anyone has my book, perv - a love story please give it back! i neeeeed it!



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5.29.2001 - link

today i've tried a number of things to lift me out of the funk i am currently stewing in:
- chocolate chip cookie ice cream sandwich
- walk around the block
- talk to friends about friend-stuff
- cleaned my entire desk
- 2+ liters of deer park spring water
- solex's cd, pick up
- pep talks out the wazoo
- consolation involving the option of moving back to my mom's place

i am still stewing in a funk, but at least i'm doing so proactively.

addendum: vanilla vodka and coke works quite nicely as a pick-me-up.



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5.23.2001 - link

andre torrez doesn't lie.



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5.16.2001 - link

skampgirl: ice cream time
slintyfresh: yay!!!
skampgirl: good humor bar.
skampgirl: just like from the ice cream truck.
slintyfresh: what kind
skampgirl: toasted almond
slintyfresh: YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
skampgirl: my favorite.
slintyfresh: my favorite
skampgirl: jinx.
slintyfresh: jinx
skampgirl: haha.
slintyfresh: ha ha!
slintyfresh: oh my god!
skampgirl: stop that.
slintyfresh: that was amazing
skampgirl: that was fucked up.
slintyfresh: seriously



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5.13.2001 - link

the other day i was on the metro going from work (yes, it was a saturday and yes, i was at work) to meet up with meg, ryan and matthew to go see that new mummy movie (man, was it ever bad...the rock? as a computer generated scorpion? oh dear.) when i had a very upsetting realization. it was shocking...disappointing...really sad.

you see, our generation (20-somethings) has been raised to believe that space travel was to become something bigger and better than it currently is. it was to be for more than just astronauts or unlucky school teachers or millionaires who charm the russians. it was to be for civilians. it was to be the mode of transportation to take us to our next exotic vacation locale. space was going to provide us with answers to such problems as overpopulation, overpolution, overweight-ness. with regular infusions of oxygen and some dehydrated rocket food, space was to be the greener grass on the other side of the sky.

on the train the other day, all those dreams i grew up with were shattered. crushed by the realization that i, dana j. robinson, would never get a chance to go to space. i will never be in a space ship. i will never be weightless. i will never burn up while trying to re-enter earth's atmosphere. damn it, i will never land in the ocean and hope my little shuttle remnant is rescued. i am earth-bound, and i am not pleased.



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5.3.2001 - link

so i've decided that i need to give back a little something to a little someone. that little someone being a "little sister." the other day i went to the big brothers big sisters website to look up some information about volunteering and dropped them an email asking about opportunities. i got an email back a couple of days later with a phone number to call for more information. so...now i'm just waiting and waiting for the stork to deliver me a child.

what's that? you say children aren't delivered via stork anymore? what? well, i don't know how you expect me to get this little sister i'm so anxious to hang out with. i guess it's back to the drawing board.



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5.2.2001 - link

let's pretend the workday is over and start drinking.

- link

i have an opening in my life for a new friend. a former friend decided to respectfully bow out of the position due to personal problems, but that's neither here nor there. you should definitely see this as a once in a lifetime opportunity!

apply within. no phone calls, please. (unless they're saucy. really, really saucy.)



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maybeiam.com and everything herein = dana j. robinson and not you.