I'm watching a tape from 1999 called "The Break Up." It's so depressing I want to crawl onto the roof. And the breakup hasn't even happened yet. I'm singing Die Lassie Singers "alles was du fertig bringst ist dich vom leben auszuruhn." Now I'm putting the track on. I used to listen to that song as though it were the drill and I were the miner and that was my job. It rubbed that spot I couldn't name then, but now I call it "depressed." I had hilarious fashion sense then, though. There was some pretty colorful acting out. Now I'm jumping around with my guitar, now I'm zoomed in on a yellow and pink frog. I'll never be able to use this clip unless the Lassie Singers decide it should be their next music video. "I'm performing, but it's because I think he's an inappropriate match for me," and other mega-self-referential moments lost to the art world forever! It helps to have you here with me, dear blog, now that my dear video diary is putting me through such torture. Now the Grateful Dead, the mainstay of depression. Now brilliant codependent revelations (now I'm being genuine): "He disapproves of everything. I'm so bored of his disapproval." Now I'm making something to eat. Blog, can't you just log this for me. Go ahead... Come on. You can do it!