mychai's Diaryland Diary

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"Come away with me..."

Right now, I am switching between this small diary update box and another open browser page. I am looking for instructions on how to change the lamps on the headlights of my car. One burned out, so I am changing both of them.

I figure that this is the first time I have had a light burn out in this car, and I have had it since 1996. If one goes, the other one is soon to follow, fo' sho.

I know as much about cars as Bill Clinton knows about monogamy. When it comes to fixing cars, all I know to do is to lift the hood, spit, and shake my head like something has completely been shot to hell.

You'd think changing the headlights wouldn't be that difficult. I tried it. I can't even budge the damn things. I have a funny feeling that my car will be missing a headlight or two by the time this is over.

But I sure know how to buy them suckers. I sat and stared at my many choices. I then realized that I didn't know what ID number fit my car. If you have a Toyota Paseo, it is 9003.

I went ahead and made the conscious decision to be an annoying driver. I bought those blue hallogen headlights that make it impossible for others to see you because of the glare. I thought it was funny that, on the package containing the lamps, it said, "Remember! Our lamps are 100% street legal!"

It was like that pack of suspicious "cigarettes" from the hippy store in downtown that has the same saying on its package.

Remember back several, several months when I went home for a visit? I think it was last August. Remember when I went out with that girl who, in the middle of the date, revealed that she was totally in love with someone?

That was what... seven months ago? Yeah. Sounds about right. Well, I got an email from my mom last night saying that she just popped out a baby.

Which means she was pregnant the night we went out. Which is weird.

Good thing the date didn't turn out as well as I had hoped. That would have presented a very interesting situation!

What is it with girls I date suddenly get married, have a kid, or both? It has happened to the past 2-3 girls I dated seriously.

Well, except for one.

This is about how I think their internal dialogue goes:

"Good God, was that bad! Whewww! I barely missed the bullet with that guy! I had better nail me down somebody, QUICK, before I get stuck with someone like him again!"

The more I think about her, though, the more I am glad that we never really got together. She seemed to be one of these very frail types. She wasn't very knowledgeable about life anywhere outside of Picayune, Mississippi.

Although I love my Southern girls, I need a girl who is a little less "Sweet, Innocent Southern Belle."

She still thought the phrase, "To' up from the flo' up" was funny. She laughed whole-heartedly when she said it after a big glass of wine I bought her was set in front of her.

I was like, "Riiiiiiight."

Just a reminder: I am going to be at a live broadcast of Michael Feldman's Whatdya Know this Saturday morning.

Turn on your radio to your local National Public Radio station to hear if I get on.

You know me... I'm going to ham it up as much as possible so I can get on a nationally-broadcasted radio show. If I get on that show, that would put me as being on two nationally-broadcast shows.

I was on ABC-Network News once. They had my face blurred out and my hands cuffed behind my back. But that was me, dammit!

Really, though. I was on ABC Network News once. I think I've told that story before. If not, email me and I'll tell it to you personally.

The time is set: Next Wednesday, between 3-5pm, I will be officially connected to the internet via high-speed cable modem. This means to me: quick MP3 downloads (which, by the way, I just downloaded Christopher Cross's "Sailing." I'm such a child of the 80s.), quick page loadings, quick porn...

But what does this mean for you?

It means that I will soon be setting up a webcam. Hopefully on this diary. I will have to talk with Andrew and see if it is allowable on Diaryland.

If not, it looks like I will have to whip out my spray can of whoop-ass and make him let me.

Because I know you are all dying to see me sitting on my bed, watching Good Eats, picking my nose. JP-Cam, I promise, will be a complete waste of bandwidth.

I went to Barnes & Noble last night to buy a certain Six Feet Under soundtrack CD. Which I did. It wasn't as great as I was hoping, but it is still good.

While I was listening to it, I looked over and saw a poster of a really gorgeous girl, Norah Jones. It listed a few artists, saying that, "if you like these, you will like Norah Jones." Ok. I like the names I recognize. I'll listen to her at the listening stations they provide.

Oh. My. God.

Her voice is incredibly sultry, airy, and sexy. Each of her words draw you in further. Her music is totally unique: imagine a dollop of light pop mixed with a heavy dose of jazz you would hear in a dark-alley bar lit mostly by the tips of glowing cigarettes.

Most of her songs on this album are originals -- written by either herself or a member in her band. She has one Hank Williams song which just goes to show the variety of sounds you will hear.

The title track, "Come Away With Me," is the heart of the album. It was written by Norah herself, and it seems to gather the entire mood of her CD. Her songs mostly seem to be about her fantasies of love. Though these fantasies could easily be clich�d, Norah handles it with the grace of a true poet:

Really... This is a moving album. There are very few CDs I fall in love with the first time I hear them. This is one of them.

Well, I will go. Another long day tomorrow. Cross your fingers in hope that I won't cut any of mine off.

Damn. Do they really have to sharpen them so much?!

10:30 p.m. - Tues., Mar. 12, 2002

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