every cowboy sings a sad, sad song

rach is playing hooky today. is that how one spells hooky? or is it hookie? i don't recall having occasion to write it before... hmm... yes, anyway. so we're heading out to northampton earlier than i thought i would. playing in noho with the girl should be good times. this also means i will need to leave noho earlier than expected (since she has to work tomorrow)... less good... though i have prepped her for the watching of buffy which is due to take place this evening at the home of my lovely friends, harrimad_sol, hominidj and scottxwl. i don't necessarily expect her to like it, but she's gonna watch it anyway. if they don't like it, she and siena can go for a walk or something.

this is weird. i've made at least a little bit of a routine in my many days home alone... it's weird to have rach here. she's trying to be all respectful of my journaling needs and all... and she's doing well... but she's also puttering around the room and it's just... different. i don't feel as relaxed as usual.

the last two days, i've written in my paper journal. it feels so good. before starting a livejournal, i wrote in my paper journal almost every day for the past 6 years. i missed it. i didn't stop on purpose, it just sort of happened. but i lured myself back in with the extravagant purchases i made in italy... bright purple ink and a handmade inkwell from florence and a handmade journal and glass pen from venice. they're so gorgeous, how could i not want to write with them all the time? mmmm.... my love for pens and paper exceeds my love for most other things. most, not all.