I wanna dress you up in my love, in my love.

I got stoned and wrote a list of things I like, and then a list of things I want. It's very me-ish and needs to be shared with people who are you-ish.

I like to chill in my room with my guitar. I like to eat soup and read about Samurai warriors. I like my apartment, I like my car (I like to rap along to Biggie with the windows down), I like my new roommate, and I like my new roomdog. I like making breakfast when I have the time. I like kitchens that fill with light in the morning. I like when a lemon falls on my head when I leave the house. It is just so appealingly odd. I like the flowers that caress the gate to my home. I like the secret garden that lies beyond the gate and the way it smells at night. I like when people let me in their lane without making me think they’re going to kill me first. I like my Batman plates and my Disney Princess cups. I like the food I’ve been putting in my belly. I like flirty eyes in dimly lit areas. I like to believe I was a fairy of some sort in a past life/dimension. I like when I make my mom laugh over the phone. I like Mulitas. I like the beach at night. I like the beach during sunset. I like the beach mid-day. Basically, I like the beach. I like the New Yorkers who end up in LA. I like how when you meet other New Yorkers in LA, they look into your eyes and say “we’re better than everyone else.” I like getting inappropriate texts in composure-demanding situations. I like not having the internet at my disposal. I like old movies you can count on like an old t-shirt or an old mix CD you find in your old car. I like Jay-Z. I like when Jay-Z wakes me up. I like when Jay-Z puts me to sleep. I like when Jay-Z grooves with me in my 2000 Honda Civic. I like when Jay-Z grinds with me in the club. I like when Jay-Z lets me be sad, and when he pulls me out of my funk. I like that a sandbeast is a real thing.

I want to be constantly growing and improving. I want to gain so much knowledge it hurts. I want everyone I love to be happy. I want it to be more acceptable to cry in public. I want a pair of Air Force Ones. Really badly. I want more graffiti.  I want to go out and take snazzy photos of all the graffiti I’ve encountered here. I want to win a Ham-For-Life sweepstakes. I want everyone in my family to rise to greater heights than they even thought possible.  I want to go somewhere exotic. I want to get tan- it’s ridiculous at this point. I want to be able to sing like Adele. I want cup of coffee. I want to have sex. I want to remember all my ideas without writing them down. I want to remember to write down all my ideas. I want to exist in a time period before cell phones. I want to have a torrid love affair with whoever I hear singing along to classic rock in the shower every morning at approximately 9:30 AM. I want to not have to pay for gas. I want a little pet turtle, but only if he actually understands what I’m saying.  I want to go scuba diving with someone I admire, like Michael J. Fox. I want to meet Beyonce at least once. I want an entire body-length blanket of my own hair. I want it to not be weird or forced when Logan comes to visit. I want to listen to the Beatles...thanks iTunes, for that instant gratification. I want to understand even .03% of the things my computer does for me on a daily basis. I want this Drive and Learn Spanish to actually work. I want to become fluent in Spanish and somehow, some way, someday make it on to one episode of a Spanish soap opera. I want to go to the opera! Why do I feel inclined to capitalize the “o” in opera? Maybe because it reminds me of Oprah. I want to meet Oprah in some weird non-Oprah situation, like she’s had a bad day and is stuffing her face with Swedish Meatballs at Ikea, drops some on her shirt, and I’m the one who hands her handy-wipes.