Monday, August 22, 2005
i hate it when the glowing box in the living room makes water come out of my eyes
i went to madison with a group of friends to celebrate eb's birthday for the weekend - we rode bikes on the city path along lake mendota, went to state street and ella's deli, and spent saturday night rockin out at flashbacks, the "discothèque" attached to the middleton, wi, marriott. i gave the400-pound dj a buck for playing "hey ya" and "billie jean."
returning to chicago, we watched the series finale of six feet under, which made me cry like the sucker i am. i suppose it is good that the series is finally over so i can stop balling every sunday night like i have for the past month, and the last 15 minutes were both really satisfying and sorta disturbing. so then i had to go home, and i decided to leave my bike so i could carry my huge tote bag and a big shopping bag filled with the weekend's supplies - clothes and shoes and magazines and muffin tins from the cupcakes i had made. sitting on the bus with red puffy eyes and two giant bags full of my possessions on a sunday night, i bet i looked like i had just been evicted or i was a not-very-teenage runaway.
the ny times and the washington post both have some decent articles about the finale. it makes me sad that it's over, but too much badness happened to the fisher family for me to suspend belief for much more tragedy, and it's better to burn out than fade away (thanks, neil young, for the cliche). or, as the times says, "Six Feet Under was a beautiful series, and its finale will suffice."