05/07/2003 - 12:32 a.m. | be my head / and i'll be yours

Yay, paper done! If I had focused at all, I would've been done hours ago, but a page an hour isn't terrible. OK, prolly is. But I got a samich and analyzed pictures with Lis and wandered around some and whatever... it's done now. I guess I could do something novel like sleep early, but that just seems like loser talk. By the way, here's the shit I wrote at Kenney (plus or minus):

"Live @ Kenney Gym... well, the hallway guarding Kenney Gym. I made a sign today telling people they have to show their IDs or towels before they can enter. Saves me even more work. Now I just point at the sign. Then again, it might be good to have a little work. Normally I have loads to do over these two hours, but since things are winding down, my only real concern is the entomology paper (potential topic: insects in mythology - it's pretty doable, but I have to get to the library - ack! - to make sure I can find some sources). So yeah, rather a bore fest here. So far I've yo-yo'd and listened to CDs for over an hour. Sad. Also I took a poop. According to the stall door, Jill Schmidt gives good blow jobs. Neat.

Some people seem to be blaming a lot of my actions on the medication. Maybe they're just finding out who I really am for the first time. Maybe they're fucking psychotic. Quite right. Some might benefit from my pills more than me. Actually, I had a theory this morning. So, what I take essentially lowers the serotonin in my body. Now, serotonin is an inhibitor of aggression, but that doesn't necessarily mean a lack of it will make me aggressive. No no, there has to be some sort of outside factor to frustrate me; that opens the door. Now, who ever could that be? Answer: Joseph Stalin. Damn you, Stalin.

Outside I saw a bunny! 'I love to eat bushes!!' EEEEE! Cute!

Summer approaches quickly. Suck. Perhaps I can stay a few extra days with Kyle, although the logistics of that haven't been completely worked out (e.g. what to do with all my shit). I love Kyle. And I really like his car. I'm pretty much the only one he lets drive it! Dunno. I would love to co-own that piece of crap, but the repair bills are just waaay too frequent. There are a lot of things I would like to do, but it's all happening at the same time. Flaming Lips are the 6th, Field Day with Frank and Bill on the 7th and 8th. That would make me pretty happy, but things just don't always work out. The long-sufferin part of me looks forward to working myself ragged and then some. Stupid masochism. It also wants me to cut myself off from everyone so that I go totally apeshit. I know. Prolly not self-destructive. Prolly."