Oh, Appreciation!

Writing reminds me of what an indecisive little woman I am.
Why can't I decide that it's OK for my main character to be a little cliche. People should recognize this guy, right? And this couple, why are they so drawn to one another? Where were they going?
Arghh.
If only it was as easy as deciding that I really like "Dark Night of the Soul," by Danger Mouse and Sparklehorse. My friend Shannon gave me a burned copy, but I'm anxious to get the album so I can admire the David Lynch photos. In the meantime, The Flaming Lips, Iggy Pop, Black Francis, that guy from the Strokes and that other person who is really cool appear on the album. It's been out for almost a year, but I've only heard the dark, gloomy gospel last weekend. Shannon played started the album while driving through Memphis after going to a fire show that had some sparky moments and some fucking boring moments. She dances with fire, so she naturally wanted to see other fire dancers. However, I've made the decision that Shannon dances just as well, if not better than the dancers who put on this show. My friend has passion, and and she doesn't wave goddamn glow sticks.
Two of the girls in the show danced well, but I don't think they've been practicing for more than a year. One girl had a baton that was lit on both ends, and she wasn't bad, but she kept twirling the baton the same way for about a minute too long at the end of her dance. Two other girls performed a fire and belly dance after the girl with her baton. The brunette danced far better than the blond. The blond was as stiff as Bristol Palin on Dancing with the Stars. The aforementioned dark haired lady was well-practiced, fluid and engaged the crowd more than anyone in her troupe. For that I will give her props. I'll refrain from comment about the rest. It wasn't a horrible show, but too much house music is too much house music.
Then Shannon and I listened to "Little Girl" on "Dark Night of the Soul" while we drove down Poplar away from the fire show. We went to the Hi-Tone, and I have no idea what band we heard, they played pretty run-of-the-mill, straightforward punk. I ate deep fried artichokes at the bar. Yum!


Now, I'm going to do some yoga. Then I have to think of a good reason to kill a couple of young lovers. In fiction, of course. My pal, David, gave me the plot, I'm just the storyteller.