2002-05-07

Wishing.

So, I notice that a lot of my favorite reads, and a lot of reads in general, have "wish lists" attached, meaning that if the Gentle Reader is so inclined, the Gentle Reader may purchase a wee giftie for the diarist in question.

I actually did have such a list some time ago, but now my needs and wishes have changed. I tend to doubt that Amazon will be able to fulfill most of my wishes:

I wish that I had known how ridiculous it is to be addicted to something, otherwise I never would've taken that first drink at 15. I mean, the big problem with being an addict is that addiction is a disease of trite, bogus, and odious platitudes. Really. If I'd known that I'd be trying on various happy-smiley-I'm-OK-you're-OK affirmations every morning, I never would've developed a taste for Scotch. Sometimes I can't believe the stuff that comes out of my mouth. Put it this way: if I start sounding like a bumper sticker, somebody shoot me.

I wish that I could figure out how the fuck I got on the AARP's mailing list. Getting those kinds of mailings have instigated some existential crises the likes of which I never imagined possible.

I wish I had a million dollars. There, I said it.

lisamcc at 1:39 p.m.

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