So last night on the radio I played this song, "Everything's Alright" by Kimya Dawson featuring Danielle Ferguson. Ferguson is a small child singing along to a song about one-night stands and that lonely feeling you have inside when you "spoon a guy" and pretend that you can still "be his friend". Not only did I receive a few phone calls about how much people loved it, but the guys that called were shocked that this happens to girls. That girls who live alone bring guys home, and even though he doesn't love her, he keeps her company.

Anyways, this song reminds me of, in a weird way, Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire". Someone in radio land said that it reminded them of R.E.M.'s "End of the World". I kind of agree with them. With the fast paced listing of pop-culture figures and day-to-day tasks and objects, I can hear the connection.

Everything's Alright w/Danielle Ferguson::Kimya Dawson

I worked around 20 hours in two days and didn't get paid a dime for it.

I have two job interviews this week. The prospect of doing some form of work and getting compensation is glorious. Never before I have I been so grateful for my horrible high school job. I never knew how good I had it until now. Not only was I bringing in over $200 a week (and I know, it's not a lot, but it's more than nothing!) and I was making tips. Lots of tips. I was damn good at that job.

I have such a boring life. I've been called out on how much television I watch, and I know. It's excessive. But man, that Roseanne! What a riot! And seriously, what she did for television is incredible. It's true: you can have a loud-mouthed, big woman on television and people will watch. It's a genre of television. Just like the whole "fat man, skinny wife" genre. This is what I learned on spring break in Evanston.

I think I'm going to the Austin City Limits festival. As soon as those first two paychecks come in, I'm purchasing my ticket. I can't believe that I won't be able to take my camera, though. I mean, I'll bring it, but I can't take it inside the festival. Ridiculous.

My mother told me to stop over-analyzing everything in life. I tend to do that a lot, and I wish I could stop, but hey. That's me. I like the look over every minuscule thing that goes on and ruin moments and just...complicate things.

My posts never have any solid ideas. My thought process is jumbled up, and I bounce around from one idea to another.

However, a continuous theme would be unemployment. And Felicity-esque drama/situations. I think if my life were a television show, it'd be somewhat interesting. Except for the hours when I loaf around at home, waiting for my friends to either get off work or get out of class. My life during the week basically revolves around their schedule and me riding my bike to places I can apply for jobs.

I like bicycling.

During my senior year spring break, I ate a turkey, ham and cheese sandwich every day because not only were they delicious, but I liked them. And I knew that at any time, if I wanted something else, I could go out and get something else.

I've eaten a turkey, ham and cheese everyday for the past week and a half. If I wanted, I could eat something else, but then I'd feel guilty about spending what little money I have.

For some reason, I'm having the most difficult time getting a job. It's mind-boggling and frustrating and ridiculous. I have experience, I'm friendly and I wasn't too desperate. I mean, I'm desperate now, but at the time of applying for jobs I wasn't.

While I'm having a great time hanging out with some people that I never really had the chance to spend time with during the school year, not being able to pay for things sucks.

And seriously, if one loafs too much, one gets sick of loafing.

I never want to get sick of loafing.

Goodness gracious, I'm going to miss you.

I love that Sex and the City comes on at such random hours on syndication. Syndication can be the source of so much happiness for me. It allows me to believe, even if only for a second that, that show is still on air.

I seriously am in dire need of a paying job. If anyone in Lexington is aware of a place that's hiring, please leave me a comment. Keep this in mind, though: I'm not yet 20, so I can't serve alcohol.

Tomorrow I'm going to sleep and read. My days are long and boring, hence the need for a job. The internship is going swell, but 16 hours a week isn't enough to keep me occupied. That's only two days, guys.

When I have some money saved up, I'm going to buy a Bishop Allen cd. I don't know why I don't have any of their music.

Seeing !!! on Friday with a close high school friend. It's going to be great.

This was such a disjointed and emotionally distanced post. Next time I'll write something more eloquent and enjoyable to read.

As comfortable as the floor is, I don't know why you wouldn't just sit on the bed. There was plenty of room, and you wouldn't have been the first person to claim that space of the bed as yours. Yours to watch television with a group a friends.

My house was crowded with people yesterday evening. As a small gathering with friends turned into a huge pasta party, I become frustrated, annoyed. I just wanted to watch the Office, and now, thinking back, I'm not even sure what happened during certain parts of the episode. I'll have to catch it online.

Is this even my house? People are calling it "my house" and "my bed" and "my room", but really it's not. This isn't my bed I'm sitting on, and this isn't my permanent room. I'm only a visitor here, paying rent for two months. But I'm glad that people feel comfortable here, that they feel comfortable around me. That they can just hop on the California King Size and nap on it while I'm watching television. Somewhere over the course of the year I made friends, and close friends at that.

And even now, I'm working on friendships and building relationships; deciphering what's just a friend and what could possibly be more.

Someone asked me once how I know if someone I like or someone that I randomly meet at a party or someone I've known for a long time...how do I know if they're it. They're the one I want to pursue, the person I'm interested in.

I don't know. I had a conclusive answer earlier today, but now I'm not sure. So far I've been wrong.

Yesterday a friend invited me to see Animal Collective at the Southgate House in Cincinnati. Digression, but every time I write Cincinnati, I never know if I'm spelling it correctly. Anyways, it was pretty spur of the moment for me, seeing as how I was on my way to Richmond, Ky to work on photo story that I've been putting time, sweat, my emotional health and gas money into since September.

I'm glad I went. What an incredible show. Despite the mass of sweaty bodies next to me, getting my foot stepped on, having a drink spilled on my shoe and losing my two friends from the people who somehow got in between us, the show blew my mind away. I had always wondered what seeing Animal Collective live would be like, and it was beyond what my wildest imagination could have conceived.

From the crowds singing along and jumping and putting their own mark on the song, to just having a grand time dancing along, Animal Collective was able to take the audience on this wild ride with them. Even when they lost power for a few minutes, the band got back on their feet and continued their electrofantabulastic show.

So for everyone who is over 21 and in Lexington, I highly recommend going out to the Dame tonight to see them perform. You won't regret the $15 the show cost. For a mere $15 you'll be taken to a whole new place, where people raise their fists together and sing about who could win a rabbit.

Just watched last night's The Office. Pam's confession to Jim had me thinking about everything in my life. And about television. Because guys, this is good fiction. This is good television. When you feel for the characters and get involved and you hope with everything inside of you that things work out for them because you feel for them. You feel for them because you see bits of yourself in them. And if there was ever a character that better represented me besides Felicity, it's Pam.

Pam had me thinking of her relationship with Jim, and the friendship that was there before things were weird.

There was time when I hated, for no reason that I could pinpoint, my best friend. I couldn't stand him, his presence enraged me. It got to the point where I didn't want to speak to him. I don't know what happened, because I think at one point he hated me, too. And it was horrible. Because if I pushed aside all that anger I had pent up, deep down I was missing him. I was missing the fun times we had together and the person I was getting to know.

It's only in the last few months that things have somehow changed and we became actual, real friends. He's the person I confide in, who I feel comfortable around even when I look horrible. Who helped me move out and asked nothing in return.

And for some reason, at this very moment, I'm missing him terribly.

I'm only a week and a half into summer, a week and a half into not seeing him on a daily basis. This summer in Lexington is going to be incredible, but I don't know how I'm going to get by without seeing my bestie.

I'm so pumped and oh so nervous about finally going on air. Like, it's this incredibly complex mixture of emotions; I hate public speaking and here I am, putting myself on the radio. But at the same time, I love sharing music, and playing tunes that I love for other people is so exhilarating. Sure, it's at the shittiest time ever, but there'll have to be someone listening.

What's great about the 3-6am time slot is I can basically play whatever. I can experiment with a few sounds, and check out some genres that I'm not too familiar with. It'll be a great ride, with me figuring out what the hell I'm doing while others listen.

I've realized that I've been pretty deprived lately when it comes to concerts. I haven't been to a show in awhile, or really, a non-UK show. Because Margot & the Nuclear So and So's was really fantastic, and that was free.

But the last big show was Death Cab, and I'm really wanting to see something soon. I'm thinking of buying tickets for the CoCoRosie show here in Louisville; anyone want to come with?

I'm taking my sister to a funeral tomorrow. I don't think I'll ever comprehend death.

I've met someone that I really would like to get to know more. If only I wasn't so awkward when it comes to that initial move in communication. Hopefully I wasn't imagining things last week, when I felt a connection. Who knows.

Man, I can't wait to play some Godspeed You Black Emperor next week.

I survived Derby. My cheeks are sunburned, my shoulders are sore, but this morning I received the most gratifying text message.

"You're in the Herald-Leader!!! You're awesome!"

I mean, I didn't need that to feel like I did something incredible yesterday. Because I know that a lot of people will never get the chance to stand on the track of Churchill Downs, or wait for that perfect moment to shoot a photo of horses thundering by, the dirt getting kicked up as they zoom by. To happen to stumble right in the middle of the action as the winning horse and jockey come by, getting congratulated by the trainer.

I had a good time yesterday, despite the hours of waiting and harrassment in the infield. At one point, while waiting for race 9 in the observation box on the backside, I fell asleep while standing. And the infield...man. I was never happier to leave a place.

A photostory that I've been working on since September will be wrapping up soon. I'll post more about that later this week.

I've been home for three days, and can't wait to get back to Lexington. I feel awkward in my own home; in fact, home doesn't even feel like home anymore. I'm a stranger in my own bedroom.

Welcome, Summer. I can't wait to see what you have in store for me.