Good ol' ramblings

You heard it here first: Tristan Prettyman is the next big thing. It's kind of sad to realize this is true as I write it, because that means "twentythree" isn't going to be some neat, quirky CD that Alli has in her car. Instead it will be overplayed and readily recognized. But that's OK because she rocks.

I just got back from San Antonio. I saw enough Vera Bradley bags to make a person scream. In fact, the dude I was traveling with almost did scream, from me pointing them out all the time. I did get him to concede this: "They look like something a grandma would carry, and not a stylish grandma." See?

When you were young did you ever sleepwalk? I did, once. It's the weirdest thing: I was awake, but my consciousness was totally altered. I "dreamt" I was watching TV in the living room. I remember sitting in the dark room in the big red La Z Boy, looking at the black screen. As in, I really remember doing it. My mom came out and found me sitting there. When she asked what I was doing, I said, "watching TV." Creepy, huh? It's like everything in my head wass consistent with the experience of watching TV, except minus the electricity. I would have been freaked if I was my mom. Scary movies are big in my house, always have been, and little girls doing scary shit have always been a major scary movie motif.