you know that old picture of the soldier kissing the girl in times square after the victory in japan? i love that picture. it still has meaning. it still makes me sigh in relief and feel that 'it's over' rush that makes anything the future might hold seem trivial. i say 'still' as though i were there on august 14, 1945. the parents of she who spawned me hadn't so much as met in 1945, but the picture makes me feel like i was right there, right when it happened, just like a picture should. someday i would like to take a picture that, sixty years after the fact, people still say 'you know that old picture of...'
did i ever tell you, diary, that i used to collect the autographs of ordinary people? i should really start doing that again.
note to self--
this christmas, ask that fat bum santa for the following: electric blanket, no more pain for my dad, no more working fourteen hours a day to make ends meet, nyc posters, chocolate covered espresso beans, toe socks, a quilt, money, an infinite supply of books i have never read but will enjoy immensely, alaska, cd/dvd drive (one that works this time)... actually, scratch that and replace with: a new computer (one that works this time), a plane ticket to maryland, a target gift card, snow, a good eclair (dude, the french annoy me as much as the next guy, but you can't in good conscience expect me to boycott eclairs, now can you?), a cure to cancer, a good bavarian creme doughnut (highly elusive), a video game console with decent games (whatever, just something i can waste endless hours of perfectly good time on), mp3 player, a real car (oh! oh! with optional sunroof and cd player with six slots and AIR CONDITIONING and automatic transmission and that new car smell... or, well, i'll settle for one that has an alternator, i suppose), a house with room for us all, sleeping pills, balloons...
and world peace.
