I think it's the young man who's freakin' me, but I may be wrong. I just can't get a grip on what or who it is that's buggin', but I know it's not the little girl. Lately, though, I just get an...icky feeling sometimes. I feel like I'm being watched. And ya know what? If I'm gonna be watched while I undress, I'd rather choose who does the watchin'.

I've lived in a haunted house before (just call me John Edward), but I've never really felt watched before. The ghost in my old house was a lot more frightening, believe me (man oh man do I have stories), but not so...icky. I don't feel like I'm in danger or actually scared or anything, don't get me wrong...just...icky.

Yes, I was an English major in college; yes, I consider myself a fairly decent writer; yes, I usually pride myself on my verbal gymnastic abilities.

And yet the only word I can think of right now to convey the profound feeling that my ghost-friends have been inspiring of late is...icky.

At any rate...tomorrow night I guess I'm going to see the Satellite Dogs in Hermosa Beach. Smithereens-Mike keeps pestering me. Well, that and I feel bad because I've missed like a dozen of their gigs lately. Then Friday night Mike Watt and the Secondmen are playing in town, also. I really need to go to that gig. I haven't even seen Watt play with the Secondmen yet. This may seem like no big deal to you, but I owe Mr. Watt some apologies, me thinks.

Hey, it just occurred to me that my niece Alissa's birthday is Thursday and I haven't mailed her a card or anything. Boy howdy, I'm not being very good to any of my peeps lately, am I?

Guess I should head for home...it is pert near 6:30pm.

Hasta, kids!

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~~~~~~~~~~~peace, love and smooches~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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