*thursday, february 21
I have southern United States dreams of golden dust. I dream about going somewhere like Texas or Mississippi or maybe Arkansas and everyone being small town sunlight hour friendly with hideous accents I could adore. And I would tell them I love The Band, and pretend to sympathize with The Night They Drove Old Dixie down, and I'd promise that if they'd be my Dixie Chicken I'd fully be their Tennessee Lamb. I'd sing them some CCR and they would appreciate me, even if I talked funny. Even if they was the kindsa folks who wasn't so nice. Yup, one day that's going to be me.
On another note, fish are jumpin and the cotton is high (see, cotton! doesn't escape mind. i like finding themes in life) so I'm excited for the Stage Band Concert... I wish I could sing Sumemrtime instead of stupid Elisa $200 vibrator/ sweat-stains Goldman. Ugh.
~check ya later
