06/01/2003 - 1:45 a.m. | and the beat goes on (meaningless)

I'm pretty much exhausted, but there's no way I can sleep without recounting the day's events in minute detail. Plus, I have the sneaking suspicion that I left out some stuff yesterday, so I'm gonna reread.

In the meantime, regarding the "Hours/$$$/CDs" thing, VESteltenpohl, you showed up a little late in the drill. On summers and holidays, I work in a factory. A shitty terrible factory making gardening supplies (e.g. tomato cages, not shovels). Rather than an hourly wage, however, I get paid per item I make. Thus, each day I make note of how much I worked and made. With some simple division, you can see if I'm making minimum wage or not! I am. Additionally, not as though anyone cares, but I list what I'm listening to while I work so that you can keep track and mock or agree or try as you see necessary. It fills my hours, is all.

OK, reread, which I hate doing, so know how much I appreciate you guys. Anyway, after getting gas at 7-11 (have I mentioned that I always buy the midgrade stuff now? theory being that it will somehow make the car last longer... or just waste money), Kyle and I went back to our hotel to watch dating shows on UPN and flick back and forth to HBO to see if we could spot any boobs. I don't even particularly like boobs, but I am paying 30 some dollars for a hotel room, so I gotta reap all the benefits I can. Anyway, Kyle turned me on to the world of dating shows. "Shipmates" rocks - not because of the show's formula ("Blind Date" on a boat - whoop whoop), but Chris Hardwick, the host, is great. He's all awkward and sarcastic and hates the show and is pretty much the worst choice for a host ever. "Next week's show is gonna KICK YOUR ASS" - haha. "EX-Treme Dating" was better in concept, and the host - Jillian Barberie - had awful delivery and was supposed to be hot but ISN'T, so it held my attention.

Kyle dozed off, and things got interesting. For one, HBO started showing boobs all over the place. Boobs and Stephen Baldwin (!!); boobs and Kyle MacLachlan (AGENT COOPER FROM "TWIN PEAKS???!?!"). I dunno - it was some movie about clones and body switching. Then, on Carson Daly's late night show, there was some mentalist on. He was floating shit in the air and altering Carson's thoughts and bending glasses with his mind!! New skill to list, I think. More importantly, pretty much all night, I'd been hearing this loud Spanish music from somewhere outside and tires squealing every few minutes. Curious, I finally peeked out the window, and like a football field away from our room was the Mexican version of The Fast and the Furious! Drag racing to pounding Spanish trumpet ditties. What in the world? I seriously had a notion to pull up in my LeSabre and challenge those fuckers. "�Mi coche es muy r�pido!" Kyle was all pissy that he missed out on this stuff, but I wasn't sure if he would have been even pissier had I awoken him for it.

I wrote some stuff out (just emptying the bin, I guess - not really important probably) and then slept around 3 or so. Left a dazed message with the Hispanic guy at the front desk about wake up calls (is there a term for this? it feels like there is, but it feels like a lot of things right now), but I wasn't positive he understood. He must have, though, because some recording screamed at me at 7:30 am today. "HI THIS IS TOM BEH--click" "Ok, Tom. I'm up." Started to get ready when 2 crucial facts were revealed: a) no shampoo (the one thing I was banking on was shampoo - I had an iron, extra socks, blah blah blah, but I was sure they'd have shampoo) and b) the "towels" were washcloths. :| Not cool. The shampoo was fixed easily enough. I groggily slipped on something and drove to a gas station and bought some Pert Plus (other choice was Pantene, but it was "Sleek and Shiny" version, which I associate with "greasy"). Things like that are often my favorite parts of independence. I was so sleepy, but then I went in the Amoco, and they were playing "Flagpole Sitta," so I happily sang along. And then I was sad because I couldn't stay to here the rest, but I was listening to the same station in my car, and I thus came back wide awake. Kyle thought I was gone for around 30 seconds. On the plus side, good water pressure. On the minus side, why the hell would anyone care to read this? Readied, ironed, packed, and then Kyle and I hit the road. Using my keen sense of direction and vague memory of where to go, I found the Paramount and parked at the same bank my parents did last year (same spot even - parking meters are for suckers!). Tried to second guess myself, but can't let that happen, can we? Only in social interaction. Meant to film the ceremony, but I guess the switch got flipped on, so I had to sit in the lobby by an outlet and frantically charge it for the precious 8 minutes of recording time.

Graduation was... there. I dunno - it's called an "excuse." Wanted to see people and do things again, and it got the job done. Speeches were OK, but the one Luis guy (man, was that even his name?! I suck!) was terribly inept and made us all awkward. Speaking of which, as usual, they told us to hold our applause until everyone had walked, but seriously, they say nothing about screaming like a jackass. We all yelled at Vivas, and Dr. Goebel (we were sitting right by the teachers) turned around and said, "Are you embarrassed? Because I am!" Oh, what the fuck. Yes, deflowering the sacred IMSA graduation ceremony. If I were doing catcalls at Dr. Marshall, sure, disrespectful. This is supposed to be a celebration, so allow us our brief moment of jubilation, asshole. Sometimes people are just a little too uptight. Following ceremonies, everyone tried to round up everyone else to make lunch plans or something (CHRIS JONES! WOO). Ended up spriting (yes, flat out sprinting) to Lisa's car so we could kill time. Hit Oberweis for ice cream (mint chip) and Best Buy for CDs and junk. Sticking to the crazy spontaneity for which I am so well known, I bought a VCR. That makes, uh, 2 things off my list then. Maybe more...

Lisa and I sort of got in a fight then. I dunno - I was angrier than I should have been. It was just a lot of things mushing together, and it was the type of fight that could just be solved with a little time alone. Unfortunately, we were in the same car together. I had her take me back to mine, let her go off on her own, decided not to be childish, and followed her. I was several cars behind her, but I knew she was going for Chinese with Becky, so I figured I could just pop in or something. Yeah, she got gas first, so I ran across a highway or something and gave her a hug and apologize profusely. I don't try to be bad... I just don't always let myself think. Anyway, we met Becky and Amy and Christina and had Chinese, and Christina seriously had the worst experience there ever. Even her fortune was blank. Scary.

Met Kyle back at IMSA and then after some brief farting around (actually pissing around), we headed towards home. My home, I mean. Pooped in a Burger King bathroom in Yorkville (taking turns), drove by the factory, stopped at my house for a brief tour and pear, and then off to Ladd (!!) for my parents' soo-prize anniversay party. With more stops at a) the site of my wreck and b) Tropical Sno :D Party was filled with interesting characters from my parents' youth. Dinky and Pee-Wee and stuff. Some good, uh, prolly non-repeatable stories heard, though. You can see I grow impatient in describing this day. And you in reading it.

Left party rather early for grocceries. Bought some of those expanding snake pellets they have for 4th of July and stuff. Put them all in a big pile and ignited it. Results on film; you shall see. Hit the mall. In about 10 minutes. The Buckle Chick liked Kyle, but pretty much everyone likes Kyle. Not envious. Drove home. Ate fresh pineapple (sooooooo good!!) and string cheese and bottled Cokes while watching "The Man Show." Then made artichokes and sorta of burnt the steamer. Kyle wouldn't eat them (xenocarbons), so more for me. They weren't in the best shape anyway, I guess. Watched The Sweetest Thing. Cameron Diaz is gross and annoying, but the movie itself was pretty cute, although I guess the "rated" version is missing the best scene, so suck. Saw the VH1 thing on Arsenio Hall for the 3rd time and then "South Park." Kyle is out in the next room, and I guess I should go too, but I found this entry very unsatisfying. Much to be desired. Unlike Ja Rule's singing.