the lady of the hour

Crazy lady livin' up there in Alaska. Former head of the Christian Athletes! A former sports anchor! A member of Feminists for Life (what a snappy contradiction). With her cute little glasses on. Can we just have her be president? I'm supposed to hate her but I love her. I am playing right into to his cold white hands.

Standing before all those sexy rugged men in Alaska her boots on, hand over her heart. I am really getting wrapped up in a snow covered lesbian Christian Republican fantasy. Someone better talk me down. The next four years could be a Republican Alaskan Christmastime! I'm thinking I could really give it all up to the corporations and the military. Screw Change and health care. I want the Karen Walker hair and glossy lips. I'll eat canned chicken.

Roseanne Barr said, "The one who cares the most wins...That's how I knew I'd be the last person standing when it was all over...I cared the most."

The one who cares the most, good or bad, will win. I vow to stop trying to control the election with my mind.

give us more to see

"Art is the mirror, perhaps the only one, in which we can see our true collective face. We must honor its sacred function. We must let art help us."
-Alice Walker, The Same River Twice

Sprinkler Rainbow Conspiracy

"Ahhhhh...July 6, 2007, its about 4:30 PM" Words that will life in infamy.

I applaud this lady for keeping her tinfoil hat on while the rest of us sleep. She's keeping an eye on things for us. It's a dirty job but someone has to do it. I can also relate to the sheer anxiety she feels. Turning something as beautiful as a sprinkler rainbow into a government conspiracy is a gift, I believe, I also possess.

I hope she can let it go. I hope she is able to sleep at night without dreams of death rainbows.

I just got back from Walgreen's. I bought my weekend essentials: coffee, coke and cigarettes. I also purchased an antidote for all the weekend fun, Prilosec. Another thirty two year old man might be purchasing a case of beer at 1:00 on a Saturday. I'm purchasing over the counter stimulants.

My world view is limited currently. The trek to Walgreens is about as adventurous as it gets for me on a temp salary. While Kara plans a trip to the moon with her mother, I'm keeping it real in the 60640. I don't need a fancy trip or a case of beer. I don't need another hero. Someday I will see life beyond my internal thunderdome. Right now it's black coffee and cigarettes and a Cliff bar (A leftover purchase from last weekend, good choice!).

No drama at Walgreen's, or on the trip there. Passing the weekend edition of the RedEye in my hallway was a bit depressing. It should have had a story about Joe Biden, Obama's pick for VP, but instead the cover story is something about "Do It Yourself Brides." Get it together RedEye. I wanted my sexy enthusiastic RedEye editors staying up late waiting for that text message like the rest of us. But no, they cashed in their chips early, "Stick with the DIY Bride story!" Then they got in their ZipCars and drove out to the suburbs for BBQs.

Joe Biden (is that even what is name is?) looks to me like a villain mayor of Gotham city from a pre-Ledger Batman movie. Oh! We're doomed. We really are. I mean I will be waving my big O flag from now until November but I fear it's a lost cause. The machine (the same one that makes the rainbow sprinklers) is going to steamroll it all to shit. I really wanted the VP text message to look like this:



Or RuPaul or Traci Lords, I don't care. Shake it up! If I have to listen to one more old white man talk I'm gonna turn into an old white man. Again, in the words of Anna Nicole Smith, "I know nothing about nothing. Oh Yes, Oh Yes."

Blueberry Mini-Tarts and the Anti-Depressant Solution

As a treat for a wonderful Sunday evening at Ravinia, I decided to make Martha Stewart's Blueberry Mini Tarts.

I am also reading and trying to follow The Antidepressant Solution. My experience has been very difficult.

The crust, if I am not mistaken, is a Pate Sucree meaning there is sugar in it. I like it much better than the Pate Brisee which has no sugar and is too floury tasting for my liking.

Stay With Me

I had the honor of being Mr. D's (the creator of Bootleg Betty, best Bette Midler site ever) guest to see Bette Midler at the opening of "The Venue" at Hammond Indiana's Horseshoe Casino.

We were in the fourth row. The show was magical. Seeing Bette this close was an out of body experience for me. I have loved Bette Midler since I was 11 (see how i got the scar on my nose).

I think my generation knows Bette Midler as the star of "Down and Out and Beverly Hills," "Ruthless People," etc. For me, hearing Bette Midler sing, can be a metaphysical experience. I can't describe it. Words fail me. If you want to know more watch this clip and then go to Bootleg Betty. You have a lot to catch up on. Thank you Mr. D.




Maybe this time I should be the one to go away.
’Cause honey, ain’t it my turn to have somebody
Grab hold of me and say,
"No! Don’t go! You can’t go!"

Television Memories

My boyfriend's pack porch faces three large apartment buildings. It's very "Rear Window." When I'm out there smoking, I like to look in all the windows. Sometimes you can see what people are doing. More often you can see what people are watching on television which is ultimately more revealing. Lots of CNN, ESPN, MSNBC, American Idol, Family Guy. A lot of straght men. This is the north side of Chicago. Another geographic location would undoubtedly produce a different back porch-Nielsen sample, obviously.

Someone watching me watch television through my window would probably deduce that I am gay or female. And they would be at least partially correct. The View, Project Runway and Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D List. The boob factor on Big Brother 10 might throw them off from guessing my sexuality. I do not watch pornography. On my TV. So my sexual tastes wouldn't show up on this peeping tom report. If there were to be any pornography displayed in my apartment, the shades would be drawn, volume kept to a minimum. Respectable.

The only window I have to peer in, outside of my apartment belongs to "The Man Who Washes the Dishes." He has been given this title because this is all he does. I have no further information on this one. Sometimes the dishes are done in his boxers, sometimes with the shades completely shut or slightly open. I can see him there showing off how he does his dishes, and that's fine. Some people have that kind of time. Jessie, the cocky bodybuilder on Big Brother, has been nominated for eviction this week and I have just learned that there are rumors fllittering around the internet that despite his hetero jock like demeanor he might be gay. So we're researching that. How this applies to my life, how it enriches my human experience I don't know. I haven't begun that research. I am compelled to go from link to link, being told that there are shocking nude pictures just around the corner of the internet. I certainly can't be bothered with dish scrubbing right now.

TV is sometimes used as a babysitter, and that's sad. For me it was more of a best friend. Best Friends. Forever.

My mother's father was a television critic. So excessive television wasn't something that was looked down upon too harshly in my childhood home. Not that I wasn't encouraged to do other things. But when I did go outside, it was time to reenact the television. Like a fifties child reenacting a cowboy show, when I went outside to play I wanted to make a gameshow. On our sundeck, I was Bob Barker on The Price Is Right pulling products out of my mother's pantry for my very unenthusiastic stuffed animal contestants to guess the price. A new car couldn't bring the stuffed bunny and Garfield out of their wide eyed catatonia. This wasn't of great concern. The focus here was on the host.

Continued

last time I ever leave my apartment

I have been sort of a hermit all weekend, cuddling my air conditioner. The idea struck me to do laundry so my apartment smells less like feet. I gathered my laundry and looked for quarters. Not enough to wash one load.

I decide to drive to the grocery store to get quarters. Very expensive, but what are you going to do? The lady at Jewel's fabulous TCF bank says she's out of quarters and suggests I go to the service desk. The gentleman at the service desk tells me he isn't "selling" quarters until tomorrow.

I stop at a gas station and the attendant offers me only a dollar in quarters. I stop at a Currency Exchange, they closed two minutes prior.

I go to Walgreens. I see a cashier who had refused me quarters in the past. So I decide to approach the manager.

"Is there anyway I can get a roll of quarters?" I ask, sweaty, desperate.
"No we don't have enough."
A very dramatic about-face and out of the store.

I walk to Staples across the parking lot. I try to flirtatiously (I don't know why, I'm losing my mind) ask an unattractive cashier with a very thin mustache if I can get some quarters.

"You have to buy a candy bar," he says with an nineteen year old authority.

I look for a cheap candy bar. I am fuming but still try to concentrate on what would be the best candy bar. It's hot so I really don't want chocolate. But I really don't want a candy bar at all. Whatever. I quickly debate back and forth between the King Size Snickers and the regular size. Then I get angry with myself for taking time out to have this debate in my head and grab the regular size Snickers.

He rations out four dollars in quarters and I storm out. I decide to drive to a laundromat. I have to park a block away.

I walk in and go to a simulated-wood covered change machine. I try to figure out how to work it and realize that its apparently just a decorative piece. A lady with an eastern European accent asks if she can help me. "Yeah, I need quarters."

She dismisses me, "Customers only."

I walk out into the heat and consider my options. Doing laundry is the right thing for me to do. I am not trying to get drugs or cigarettes. I just want to avoid fungus growing on my Old Navy T-shirts and white athletic socks. I have been in similar situations when I'm desperate for cigarettes. Walking all over, trying to find the lowest price or who will accept my large bag of pennies for a pack of Camel Lights. This is just me trying to wash my clothes. It shouldn't be a big deal. But everything is a big deal when it's this hot.

I storm back into the Laundromat.

"How much is a load of laundry?" I yell
"What?" the queen of the laundry mat answers, looking at me like I'm crazy. Which is the very right assumption.

"How much is a load of laundry! I will pay. For a load of laundry. If I can get some goddam change." I say in my best exasperated Julianne Moore-Annette Bening-Meryl Streep-I'm not taking this shit voice.

"This is..I own this place and I can't have..If you're not going to be a customer..."
She rambles on and approaches me and my open wallet. I take out three dollars and she grabs it and pulls out three dollars in quarters from her overloaded quarter pocket.

I walk out as she continues to ramble.

"Just..next time remember...you have to be a customer...I can't be...I'm not a..You can't"

Proust Questionnaire

In the self indulgent tradition of The Jeremy Show, I have decided to take the Proust questionnaire. Proust discovered these questions in his friend Antoinette's book entitled "An Album to Record Thoughts, Feelings, etc." Apparently, these types of question games were very hip in the Victorian period.

1. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
No Freedom. Imprisonment mentally and/or physically.
2. Where would you like to live?
New York City
3. What is your idea of earthly happiness?
Coffee in the morning.
4. To which faults do you feel most indulgent?
Egotism.
5. Who is/are your favorite hero/heroes of fiction?
Women.
6. Who are your favorite characters in history?
See question 7.
7. Who are your favorite heroines in real life?
Flawed women like Leona Helmsley or Tammy Faye Baker. Women who act just like men and piss everyone off. Eleanor Roosevelt, Martha Stewart, Hillary Clinton.
8. Who is/are your favorite heroine/heroines of fiction?
Don't read a lot of fiction unfortunately. Holden Caufield was my first fiction hero.
9. Your favorite painters?

Tamara de Lempicka



Mark Rothko


Geoffrey Todd Smith

10. Your favorite composers or musicians?
I enjoy performers. I know nothing about the craft of music. Madonna, Pet Shop Boys, Bette Midler, Sandra Bernhard. I like music with vocoders.
11. Which qualities do you most value in a man?
Self Deprecation, Sense of humor, Sensitivity
12. Which qualities do you most value in a woman?
Confidence, Intelligence, Sense of humor
13. Your favorite virtue?
Honesty
14. Your favorite occupation?
Laughing.
15. Who would you have liked to be?
A fifties housewife, just for a couple days
16. Your most marked characteristic?
Neurotic.
17. What do you most value in your friends?
Loyalty, Humor, Understanding
18. What is your principle defect?
Low self esteem.
19. What is your favorite color?
Dark blue, gray, white. I like colors.
20. What is your favorite flower?
Magnolia.
21. What is your favorite bird?
Peacock. So obnoxious and arrogant.
14. Who are your favorite prose writers?
David Sedaris. Sandra Bernhard.
15. Who are your favorite poets?
Eminem, Prince
16. What are your favorite names?
Isaac. Jake.
17. What is it you most dislike?
Insensitivity. Confusion. The sound of someone flipping through a newspaper.
18. What historical figures do you most despise?
Hitler, George W. Bush. Almost angered more by their "yes" people.
19. What event in military history do you most admire?
JFK, bay of pigs
20. What reform do you most admire?
Most recently, gay marriage.
21. What natural gift would you most like to possess?
Musical ability.
22. How would you like to die?
Without my knowledge.
23. What is your present state of mind?
Unsettled.
24. What is your motto?
"Maybe try again tomorrow." Alicia Nash, A Beautiful Mind

candy and ribbons

I want a thing to play my iPod on. The one I had, an alarm clock variety, stopped working.
I want the two Bette Davis video collections I don't have. I have the first one.
I want a McGriddle.
I want to go to New York to visit Kara and see Mary Poppins, Xanadu, August: Osage County.
I want to see Grey Gardens, the estate in the Hamptons.
I want a new sound system for my computer.
I want to see Tina Turner, Bette Midler, Cher, Kathy Griffin and Sandra Bernhard in concert.
I want the Deluxe Hard Candy CD that comes with real candy inside.
I want a couple new bookshelves.
I want to buy my boyfriend Disney things.
I want a haircut.
I want an intervention.
I want lots of new clothes.

pissed

So, I'm pissed because according to photobucket.com someone entered my account and deleted all of my pictures that I have had since 2006. So I hope that person dies painfully and slowly. So now, I have to go back and fix all my pictures (I have some on my computer, some not). This is why I haven't blogged in awhile. I have been mad at the person who stole my pictures and I don't even want to look at stupid thejeremyshow.com. This person is an evildoer and they will have a terrible life. Ok, letting it go. I wish them love and light and happiness.

FutureSexLoveShow

Feeling emotionally fragile like a china doll. A broken dusty figurine of a man on the shelf. Boring myself with my analogies. Trying to describe a very New England pain. I'm in a yellow wallpapered bell jar. A story told a thousand times, mostly by privileged white women. Where is the book about me? I'm certainly in no condition to write it.

Watching Justin Timberlake on DVD. The FutureSexLoveShow, I believe it's called. What talent and optimism and soul. Gives me goosebumps. In slacks and white shirt and vest. Grabbing his twentysomething package, the crowd screams. There is such hope in that crotch. Such potential.

Eating Ritz crackers with feta cheese and ham for dinner now. Disgusting. Stomach issues now. Feeling hopeless.

These men on the train home from work. Different versions of Justin at different ages. In their ironed slacks. I can't help but fixate. Every day a new one. They are undoubtedly disturbed by the pained look I must give them. Wrinkling my brow, trying to understand how they got wherever they are. I want to be them. Do they ever want to be me? Certainly they are not interested in the hairstyle. This is an ongoing problem. Who do they want to be? They want money probably and sex. They want to feel safe or make others feel safe. They are hungry.

After the work day is done, I just want to sleep. I refuse the offers coming from no one- going out for a drink after work. "No, Thank You." Just sleep. And when I say sleep I mean go home and hide. And by that I mean watch a Justin Timberlake concert DVD ordered from Netflix.

where troubles melt like lemon drops

It's much better to look at pictures if you're snooping around. A picture in a drawer or a survey of photos in frames while your host is out of the room. Quietly judging.

Today on the train a woman turned to her friend and said, "Wanna see pictures of me and Brian from this weekend?" I tried to figure out if I would have wanted to see the pictures. Not really. Its only fun if you're in the picture. Who wants to see pictures of other people having a good time? Only if you have time to really take a look at it and study the people and the story and what you think is all wrong about it, jealous you weren't there. Otherwise you're just saying, "Aww..." or "Oh my god, that is so cute."

But sometimes you do need that reference. You have to see Brian to get a good gauge of what you're dealing with. You need a face to put in the stories your friend is yammering on about. Is Brian cute or ugly, that sort of thing.

The conductor came on the PA and announced that we were being delayed for some reason. The voice sounded middle eastern. I thought back to that time right after 9/11 when it was hard not to be afraid of everything middle eastern. That weird panicked time when everything was turned upside down. Would they attack Chicago? Would they attack Crystal Lake or Downers Grove? Jumping at every little sound. Then I considered the idea of an El train hijacking and how fruitless that would be for the terrorist.

America is still suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. That's why there is so much reality TV. We are trying to sooth ourselves with Tila Tequila and Extreme Home Makeovers. Although I am a strong advocate for television whenever possible, I don't enjoy these types of shows myself. I wish I did.

Television whenever possible! Of course, yes, always. Movies and books and television and advertisements and music. Take it all in. Just watched a wonderful documentary on Toulouse-Lautrec. His wonderful advertisements are hanging in art galleries now. Don't be silly and ignore what is right in front of you. Beautiful pink El trains decorated with pictures of Madonna and Marilyn Monroe for Sunsilk.

People on the other hand-- people are harder to deal with. I prefer to deal with people after they are broken down into 1's and 0's and then lit up with electricity.

i dont like your hair

Today I wanted to do nothing. I wanted to just sit on the couch and watch television and be covered with blankets and have no stress on my body or mind. But the computer keeps calling me. Write something, make something. Make a hat where there never was a hat.

Its difficult to write when you don't have perspective, a point of view. I'm in coping mode. Cigarettes and coffee and antidepressants. Watching a lot of movies and television- consuming art and making none. Art should be a recycling. When you see a movie you should create something inspired by that movie and put it out there.

I just keep thinking negatively about everything. Judging everything. So, best to keep my mouth shut. Because its not how I really ultimately feel about your hairdo. I think its fine. I just hate mine so much that I'm gonna lash out at yours. But if I keep it all bottled up inside I'll just act out. Acting out for me is sleeping. A mostly benign act.

My mom did not like my plan of "not doing anything day." She said I should do something so if someone asked what I did today I would have something to tell them.

Thinking about
pyschology school
key lime pie
madonna
bread machine
sleeping
audiobooks
wound on my hand that is healing
cigarettes
lube
boundaries

Ladies I'm Lovin: Sheila Kennedy

She's from Dallas but moved to New York in 1980 to live with Bob Guccione. Former Penthouse Pet. Ex-Girlfriend of Scott Baio. And my favorite Big Brother contestant to date.

She is that voice in our heads who is just exasperated and convinced that something is up. She's got her wine. She is 45 and she'll let everyone know that she is 45. She's a lot older than everyone else, she's seen a lot of things in her life so... just know that. Know that.


I would have died! Died! DIED! Thank yew. Thank yew!



Sheila asking for her Tylenol PM.





***Thanks for all the response to the "Ladies I'm Lovin" series.

Ladies I'm Lovin: Julie Chen

Julie Chen

This 36 year old sassafrass hosts my favorite show Big Brother and has been dubbed "Chenbot" for her stiff delivery. Besides hosting BB, she is also a cohost of the CBS early show and the wife of CBS president Les Moonves, Okkaaay! Girl knows how to marry!! According to Wikipedia, she failed entrance exams for the Bronx High School of Science and said to hell with it and marched her way through college ending up with a journalism and English degree. She doesn't mind being called Chenbot, "adding that it may derive from her 'precise on-air style' which comes from "a desire to be objective." I don't care I just love her hair and her outfits and SHOES and blue notecards. The way she hosts a silly old show like Big Brother like shes reporting on genocide gives me chills.


just watch until about 3:00...or not..i dont care




and this is great...

what it feels like for a girl

When you open up your mouth to speak
Could you be a little weak?

When you're trying hard to be your best
Could you be a little less?

lemon meltaways

I begrudgingly made some lemon meltaways to try and cheer myself up. Real down, kids. I'm not a fan of powdered sugared covered things but I had all the ingredients in my apartment so, you know, why not? They are real tart. Sort of like a lemon sour patch kid. The recipe was from Martha Stewart but she suggested lime. I don't have any lime so I used lemon. I still have another "log" of dough in the freezer that I can bring out to slice and bake when I have "guests."

I am real hot. On fire. Andropause.

congratulations madonna

humor me and watch. that's all i want. that's all i ever wanted.



and her speech, if your so inclined...

no capitals? no problem.

the president should be chosen on a reality show competition. i think it would make a lot more sense than electoral colleges and superdelegates. i think hillary and obama and mcain should have to do challenges each week. like one week it would be who gets closest to ending a war. the budget for the show would be taken out of our taxes or something (its in the planning stages right now, i'll iron out the kinks as we get closer to production). anyway, so each candidate would be given a certain amount of money-- a billion dollars or something. whoever gets closest to ending the war moves ahead and the person who screws up gets sent home. i would be the host of the show and would eventually choose who is president of the united states and it would be hillary clinton. unless i decide i dont like her. there are a lot of times when im watching a reality show that i think i like someone but they say something dumb or start acting up, get too cocky and i'll decide i don't like them. things change when you're being videotaped 24/7. then i might decide that i like obama better. then he could be president. but the main thing are the challenges. i need to see them in action to decide who is better. i think this is what our forefathers would want as far as im concerned. and i am concerned.

from my vantage point, on my couch, smoking my cigarettes and eating macaroni and cheese -there is a lot going on thats not good. i think its time for a change. but i dont see any other way to handle it other than a reality competition.

i watched big brother last night and i think its a great show. a real class act that you are missing out on. get involved. i watched oprahs big give. blah. i love oprah but im sick of her dragging around that nate berkus that everyones so crazy about. i saw his line at linens n things or bed bath and beyond or whatever and i wasnt impressed. lots of oversized decorative wooden bowls that are supposed to hold decorative wicker balls. so stupid. it was all on clearance. real depressing.

whats with the lincoln park ladies and bringing there lunches to work in bags from high end retailers. gives me a headache. i probably mentioned it before but its real trashy. its like wearing big sweatshirts with rubber logos on them. get with it. a classic brown paper bag would suffice.

it was a real freak show on the train today. very jacobs ladder. distorted faces and people that looked not well. it was probably me. its probably a side effect of one medication or the other but i had to close my eyes and listen to some janet jackson to take the edge off.

lost my debit card in the atm machine. they dont need to make the kind that take your card in anymore. its asking for trouble. i have enough money problems as it is-- then you take my card away. get out of here.

im in one of my "clear it all out" moods. everything in the garbage. sanitize and start again. i want a clean blank canvas. too much crap.

the best tip from martha stewart? just a spray bottle with dish detergent and water. never have to buy any kind of ripoff cleaning agent again. soap. usually works for most things, people. and water. soap and water. for cleaning. exactly.

The Jeremy Show Deleted Scenes

Some blog posts that got lost on the cutting room floor...

Remembering Doctors
11/25/07

My pediatrician had red Lucille Ball hair and very cold fingers. The nurse looked like Shelley Duvall. Once she came into say that the doctor was "tied up" and I thought that she was really tied up and that frightened me because everyone was acting like it was normal.

I had several ingrown toenail surgeries at that office. The nurse told me that cutting your toenails "is an art."


Psychiatric Ghetto
8/22/07
I was waiting at a bus stop at Sheridan and Wilson, on my way to a doctors appointment. A man sitting on the bench was shouting, "Completely unhappy, completely unhappy, completely unhappy..."

How well said. How simply put. This area of Chicago has been dubbed by some to be the "Psychiatric Ghetto." I don't know the specifics of why, when or how this area came to be the home of so many clearly deinstutionalized mentally ill people but on this day and many others I felt like I fit right in. It felt like being at an outdoor psych ward.

frogs
8/22/07

Seems like lately before I sit down to write I have big plans, but as soon as I sit down I am overcome with a sense of self disgust and cant bring myself to write. I mean look at that last sentence, forchristsakes! Will muddle through this somehow, I guess.

It's been tough times for mama as per usual. I had a dream I was pooping frogs. For reals. It was terrifying. Baby frogs were coming out of my butt. I shouldn't be sharing this. That is a dream of the hopelessly insane. But its the truth. I don't mean to delve into this too deeply but:

Bowel movement

To dream that you have a bowel movement, signifies that you are successfully getting rid of your old habits/ways and thinking patterns. It is usually analogous to the release of strong emotions, such as anger and anger. insidedreams.com

untitled
8/14/07

dreamed i was working at some haunted mansion ride/ school. prince was there and he looked very attractive. i got along with everyone really well and knew a lot of the people that worked there. thats it.

wrapped around your finger
7/5/07

I dreamt that Sting and The Police were giving a concert in China. They were singing a very moving anti-communist version of "I'll Be Wrapped Around Your Finger." It was beautiful.

I had this dream because I watched a very sad documentary called Seoul Train about North Korean immigrants trying to get to South Korea by way of China. Also because I saw an old clip of Sting performing that song on Live Aid AND because I was watching "The World Series of Pop Culture," where one of the questions was about the song. My brain had a field day with that one.

I also dreamt that I was at Cory and Ann's wedding. Carol Burnett and Oprah were there.

untitled
7/5/07
i remember listening to my whoopi goldberg record. she did four or five characters that were funny and really rocked my twelve year old world. i just saw a whoppi goldberg special on bravo, it brought me back to that time. when you would sit and watch or listen to a program and take it all in. no promos, no links to websites, no invitations to interact or vote.

i just hope that kids these days are being inspired and delighted like i was by my whoopi goldberg and joan rivers and bette midler records. it was an adult world that i was exposed to- smart and mysterious. things i didnt understand.

i dont know what im saying. i just think everything is so fast paced and ter