I'm feeling kind of melancholy tonight. It could be that I've been listening to too much Tindersticks for my own good. Is that even possible you might ask and I would reply, evidently. Especially if you're 30 years old, recently separated and living with your parents in Duncan. And sleeping on a deflated air mattress. And working as a waitress even though you have an honours degree in design. Maybe it's not the Tindersticks. I'm kidding. I'm zen. I should write a book. The zen of losers. Bah. What was I saying? Melancholy. Yep. That's me. Not depressed so much, just...something. Wait, I'll look up what melancholy actually means. Oh.

1. Sadness or depression of the spirits; gloom: “There is melancholy in the wind and sorrow in the grass” (Charles Kuralt).
2. Pensive reflection or contemplation.
3. Archaic. Black bile. An emotional state characterized by sullenness and outbreaks of violent anger, believed to arise from black bile.

Well I'm not sad or depressed. Or gloomy really. Maybe a little. I don't think I have any black bile. How would you really know? You could really only guess I suppose but I'm going to have to go with no. And I'm not sullen or violent (well, not any more so than usual anyway) so I guess I must be in the pensive reflection or contemplation category of the melancholy. Groovy. The thing is that I really don't think that I've taken the wrong direction in coming here. I feel like I'm doing something I have to do (whatever that means) and that things will come together somehow. Obviously not in a magic elves making shoes while I sleep kind of way but in a being in the right place at the right time kind of way. I don't know. Maybe I'm just showing my flippers again (as in flipper baby) but I've always believed that there are no mistakes. We take something that we need from every experience and so far there's nothing in my life that I would change and I can't shake this feeling that right now is an unusual and important time in my life and I've got to follow my instincts. Unfortunately my instinct at the moment is to find, stalk and lick Ed Harris. I watched Pollock again last night and he is just hot. For the first hour or so anyway. And then not so much. I may have to rent the Truman Show again soon. Ooo...Hot Hot Heat is playing now and that's much perkier. God bless my iPod. And curse my mood swings. And now I sleep. Sleep is good. Okay bye. I forgot how much I love this song. Bandages, bandages, bandages, bandages. It loses something in the writing down I think.