I hate how transparent people can be. Let me guess…you want to impress this girl, you want to talk about yourself, you want some of my fries, you think that girl has a nice ass, you love your reputation as a character, you want me to listen to this song.

I only consider it transparent when these people never actually say what they think or what. It’s not like they begin with, “I only act this way around you cause I want in your pants”, or “I don’t really care about you but I’ll let you speak first so I can have my turn later”, or “I want some of your fries so I keep asking about how good they are so you’ll offer me some”, or “You’re hot so I’m going to stare”, or “I want a crazy reputation so I’m going to act crazy”, or “I want to be the one who introduced you to this song”.

I’ve been told that I’m very transparent when it comes to people I don’t like, and hopefully that’s the only case for me. I generally won’t go around telling people that I hate them, but I’d rather someone know than not know. That way they won’t waste their time with me and I won’t waste my time with them.

Things would certainly be a lot better that way.

So Tristan finally updated their site for the spring 2004 collection. There’s something about a girl in a dress shirt and a blazer. And if there’s no dress shirt involved, well…that’s even better.

I wonder if anyone else melts just looking at her. It’s probably just me. I can’t be blamed though. The redhead-blazer combo is deadly.

Over the weekend I bought a dress shirt (with the little plastic insert things that keep the collar straight), a silk tie, and a pair of Quicksilver boardies. I’ve been buying more than I should. I keep calculating the price of things in terms of number of work hours.

The perfect temperature is when it’s warm enough to sleep with the window open but cold enough to need the warmth of a nice duvet.

I could never understand why some songs could make my eyes water.

• Radiohead — Paranoid Android, with its contradictory chords
• Thrice — Artist in the Ambulance, with its repenting, inspirational movements
• Dreamtheater — Disappear, as the harp leads to distortion in a bittersweet explosion
• Billy Talent — Nothing to Lose, with its heartwrenching chorus
• Godspeed, You Black Emperor! — Hungover as the Queen in Maida Vale, right when a single violin interrupts the sermon
• No Motiv — Born Again, when the drums kick in heavy and lead the listener to the present
• Lovage — Anger Management, with its pining soft rock melody
• The Dears — Heartless Romantic, with its thumping, distorted bass hits against the droning organ synth and dual vocals
• Elliot Smith — Waltz #2, with its steady, but heart-breaking tone
• Bad Astronaut — These Days, every time the effusive chorus rushes in
• Strung Out — Match Book, in its entire energetic hopefulness
• Postal Service — The Dream Of Evan And Chan, through all the opening lines
• Misfits — Saturday Night, as soon as the dragging guitars kick in
• Portishead — Undenied, with Beths fragile voice accompanying a simple, distorted loop

For the longest time I had assumed that it was the songs themselves, composed so well with so much pain, that would blur my vision. These songs were sad, and tears were the proper response.

Then I heard something a little different, something that was calming yet lifting. A dreamy song by Modest Mouse called Float On, that filled me with an indescribable satisfaction every time I heard it. And I realized that all these songs, as sad as they are, were making me happy.

So happy that tears are the proper response.