Tucked away with the housemates...

This entire week I've gone back and forth about my true feelings towards blogging. It's amusing to me that suddenly every one of my friends (except Oh this kid, of course) has become so devoted to the technologically-nuked, yet epically archaic act of recording your own life. Amusing and yet, you hear the bitterness. Some blogs make me question ever sharing any of my writing, ever. And other blogs...well, I'm blogging aren't I? I am spending the right now video chatting with Tuck Everlasting who is currently performing "Untouched" by the Veronicas. Hott, both of them. He has come to know my housemates, as they have him. It's funny to hear them greet each other with the familiarity of every evening visits. Zach will scream ridicuously and from the kitchen I'll hear, "it's Zach. Tell him Laura said hiii!" We really are spreading love only.
I'm staying in a house for the month of January that I find completely kickass. It's...entertaining. To call it an igloo would be beyond cliche. For those of you who have noticed the increase in typos from me, its because I can't feel my effing fingers 7/8 of the time. This morning we woke up and google decoded all our creeped out dreams. I dreamt I took Mike to the prom and then while I was away trying to get the DJ to play 'The Timing,' the prom ended and I had to change my red heels to uggs in order to run to catch up to the limo. Google said shoes represent my approach to life and that changing shoes means I'm changing roles. Dancing at the prom represents a change in relationship. My ever philosphical housemates believe this to mean I will soon be taking on a role IN the band itself. lol. The house is also haunted. Yeah. After decoding we dealt with the daily dosage of the spirit. This is what we know: he or she lives in the basement, they don't like the giants, they like to slam doors, and they have excellent control over the lights. Chandler is becoming a member of TAPS while Meesh reads, 'True American Hauntings: Real Ghost Stories' and the SiscoKid and I really just scream and get creeped when he makes his presense known. If anyone knows an area of L.I. that has 666 phone numbers, let us know bc Sisco gets missed calls from one after the lights go off. For realz. Work, was insane. No, I don't care how much foam you think you are innately righted to but yes, I can smile at you while you rudely demean me as a fellow human being. Do you need room for milk in that?
Now I'm sitting here (with Zach) holding 'the book,' pretty unsure about what to convert from scribbles to Times New Roman. I wonder what Nicky finds so appealling about it. There aren't secrets, in fact, he was there for nearly everything I write about. But then if there's no secrecy to it, then I also wonder why I find myself chasing him around time after time trying to prevent him from moronically reciting passages out loud like he did yesterday. I'm considering a decoy journal. My only fear of blogging is that it will take the place of the my beloved books, that video chats will replace the intensity of a few true spoken words. Talking with the Tucker makes me appreciate real conversation all over again and I guess at the end of a ho-hum Friday, there's really no perfect way to record that kind of connection. Until next word...


...Rick.

song of the blog:
"The Streetlight Diaries" by: Search the City