I was barely out of my teens on August 16, 1999. This entry was in a notebook that I got in Portland, Oregon, in the fall of 1998 and kept sporadically until 2000. It was the last paper journal that I kept with any semblance of consistency, and is only half full.
August 16, 1999 3:30 AM
And why am I awake?
And bothering to record
The mundane piddling recess
That my thoughts take.
And why are they playing
That damn Britney Spears song
To drunks and losers?
I was writing a lot of poetry and really getting into songwriting. I imagine that this little poem was scribble down whilst drinking a bottomless cup of coffee at Perkins at 3AM and smoking copious Camel Wide Lights. I was so cool, y'all. You probably wouldn't have been able to stand me.
In fact, this is only two days after Whitney and I first met Angie, in line for Backstreet Boys tickets, back when my love for the Backstreet Boys was just ironic. She confessed later that her first impression of us was "Oh great, I bet they like Europe." Basically meaning we looked like the late 90s equivalent of hipsters. So glad she gave us a chance after we basically assaulted her with our awesome friendship.
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