I dreamed about Cheryl Mcmahon last nite.

Everyone i've known has always had someone that they've regretted not going out with. She was mine. She was smart, but shy. She had a smile that i'd instantly have to look away from for fear that i'd gawk like an idoit. And she was pretty. And by pretty, i don't mean cute, or hot, or whatever. I mean stomach all in knots, don't know what to say or do pretty.

Dreaming about her could have any of a dozen different meanings to it. But since i've recently gotten my head back on straight, i'll leave that to you guys.

Going to hell tonite to see the national parks play some old school indie rawk. And if i can get a hold of dale and the guys maybe we'll have a spincycle jam.