Let's make a note. As of time of writing, there's only been a single LJ note about my last entry. I haven't read it, of course. I can't read anything that might be Bad News. A single note--- let's call that clear evidence of being alone.

I got a LastFM recommendation from Laura-Ashlee at bladeoftheknife: White Lies, "Death (Crystal Castles Remix)". There's no way you won't love this, her recommendation said. She's right about the music, of course. I like the song. I've liked Crystal Castles since last summer. But it depresses me nonetheless. I'll never get to dance to it with anyone. And...where and how did she find it? Did she download it? Hear it at a record store? Is it something she's heard in a dorm bed with a boy?

Lunch at an Indian restaurant--- sampling curries at the buffet, Indian beer, plates of nan with grill marks. Aquiline and poised Punjabi girl as my waitress. Thinking of "Man v. Food" on Food Network last night--- Brick Lane, in NYC: supposedly the hottest curries, vindaloo and phaal, in the country. Thought about having lunch there with Miss Ginny at ginny_mccoo. Thought about eating with her in a small backstreet restaurant in Dharamsala. Has Miss Ginny ever read Mohsin Hamid's "Moth Smoke" or "The Reluctant Fundamentalist"? Brick Lane the restuarant immediately called up "Brick Lane" the film and novel--- recommendations from Miss Ginny, who does like Bengali and Punjabi girls. I do want her to read Mohsin Hamid...

There's still "Across the Universe" to watch tonight. I bought dark Demerara rum--- Guyana rum ---this morning, and Russian Baltika beer. I'll watch Evan Rachel Wood and drink Baltika.

Whatever became of Sarah Roemer from "Disturbia"? She was lovely in a bikini--- Miss Ginny and I agreed on that. A perfect girl to have affairs with her teachers in high school and at university. We agreed on that, too.

Massive Attack, "Teardrop" and "Inertia Creeps". I'd never have sex to anything like "Black Dog", but "Inertia Creeps" could be Sex Music for Eduardo-kun. Not that I'll ever hear with a girl in a hotel bed in NYC or a dorm bed in Birmingham. Or anywhere else.

I did order a copy of Richard Dawkins' new book--- "The Greatest Show On Earth". I'm rather a Dawkins fan. "Blind Watchmaker" and "The God Delusion" are two favourites. And I suppose if I'm going to read the new Dawkins book, I should re-read Desmond & Moore's life of Darwin, and probably "Voyaging", the first volume of Janet Browne's life of Darwin. I do remember reading "Voyage of the Beagle" and Stone's "The Origin" when I was a mere petite little Small Long-Eared Desert Hedgehog and falling in love with the story. I so wanted--- still want ---to be the young Chas. Darwin, setting out aboard HMS Beagle at twenty-two to sail round the world. Yes--- I want to see "Creation" as soon as it's released in the States: Paul Bettany as Darwin, Jennifer Connelly as Emma Wedgwood Darwin. And I wish someone somewhere had the very good late-1970s British mini-series about Darwin and the Beagle. That was one of the first things I ever saw on Learning Channel back in the days when it was new, when it was all science documentaries and not fashion makeover and reality shows.

I'll have to listen to Balligomingo. A band worth exploring. I'll ask Miss Ginny at ginny_mccoo about them. What did Miss WaterColorFire / emigree say about Mono's "Slimcea Girl"--- her "middle school trip-hop phase" c. 2001? Miss Ginny in 2001 would've been...sixteen or seventeen? But I will ask about Balligomingo.

Crystal Method, "It Hertz" and "Don't Stop". I like the songs, yes. But they show up with suspicious frequency at Miss WaterColorFire's LastFM tracklists. Are the tracks on her iPod for her five miles-a-morning run, or is she playing them as Sex Music in a dorm bed in Morningside Heights? I suppose I'd take either way as one more marker for my own lack of any comparative value.

It's International Talk Like A Pirate Day. Yes--- yaaargh. So let's not forget a key book for today: Barry R. Burg's "Sodomy and the Pirate Tradition" (rev. ed., NYU Press, 1995). How can one not own a book with a title like "Sodomy and the Pirate Tradition"? Great name for a band, too. Or a fashion house.

I still can't get anyone to call my landline and walking me through using my XHD to back up my iTunes. I will finally throw the external hard drive away. It's sat there on my table since February--- I can't get a single lovely friend to call my landline and show me what to do to use the XHD and back up by iTunes. It's not just that I'm phobic about trying anything on my own lest I somehow inevitably do Something Wrong--- it's that getting a lovely clever girl to show me what to do with the XHD is a marker for value, for being worth the ten minutes or so it would take. Though of course I suspect that anyone who has a MacBook Pro or who has any real tech knowledge has too much contempt for someone as technically inept as me to waste time on me. I always assume that I'm too incompetent and useless to be part of any social networks, anyway. It just does make me depressed and self-loathing to think that, despite seven months of asking, I'm not worth a phone call to help with the XHD and (finally) back up my iTunes.

Though I hate the iTunes. I will say that. 4970 items on the iTunes. Two-thirds of the tracks must be things I've bought over the last year or so. This is a key reason why I'll never be able to get a MacBook Pro. I have the cost of a 15-inch MacBook Pro just in songs from iTunes. I've never been able to successfully use a downloading site. No one to teach me how, of course. So Miss Lissy at emigree and Laura-Ashlee at bladeoftheknife and even Miss Ginny at ginny_mccoo know how to use services to find and download songs. I can only download what I buy or what friends give me. I'm far too inept and stupid to download music, just as I'm too inept and valueless to have lovers. Or a career. Or a life.

5th September 09 through 19th September 09... No incoming calls. No texts. No late-night voices. Not 205, not 514--- certainly not any area codes from Brooklyn or the Skinny Island. There won't be any voices tonight. Summer's ending on a one-night heartbreak, She Wants Revenge sings. Summer's ending on silence and contempt. I'll never get to travel to see a girl again. And no girl will ever come here--- not from 205, not from 514 or even 917 or 941.

And let's be clear. Out of all the people I read, all the people I used to have exchanges and flirtations and conversations with, none of them read here any more. None of them leave notes.

I can watch Evan Rachel Wood and drink Baltika and think of sharing Miss Wood from "Thirteen" with Heather at wantedwanted and Miss Ginny. But I won't be with a lovely wicked co-ed in a dorm bed in Birmingham or having drinks in the Chelsea night. Or hearing lovely seductive Voices on the late-night aether ever again.