09/07/2003 - 1:07 p.m. | this is an older entry

Yes, I know it is supposed to be �deeply.� You shut up. My left thumb has been sort of numb for the last three days now. Good sign?

Up at 12 today, once again to the sound of Special K (by which I mean Kyle, by which I mean he�s retarded) hollering about something, this time pissing on the door. 11 to 12 was more or less occupied with blind foosball with Spritz (no glasses, see?). Still, I think I might be slightly less horrid than I once was. Kyle, Spritz, and I all flopped on a bed, discussed the internet situation, and pretty much didn�t move for 45 minutes. Then, tired of reveling in my own stinkiness, I showered. Came out and studied or sort of slept or something for a couple hours. Actually, I spent a great deal of time rubbing my tummy. In all seriousness, I have a pretty damn good tummy. Considering that journalism is awfully concerned with writing, we sure as hell have a lot of reading to do. And most of the authors seem to be sort of assholes about their art. Get over yourselves, collective fatheads.

Kyle and Spritz began cooking� or as much cooking as they�ve ever been able to muster. Fries and chicken fingers, fresh from the deep fryer (the oil of which is congealing even as you read this). Still, nothing to poo-poo about. Plenty good and all that. Shortly after finishing up stats reading / skimming, Justin called and asked if I wanted to see a movie or something. Hell yes.

After much deliberation, we headed to Barnes and Noble to deliberate some more. I also bought some manga because I have decided that I need something to be obsessed with. I was gonna try Wizard and Witches Cards from Harry Potter, but they are totally the wrong shape, not to mention stupid fucking holograms, so no. We headed to the mall to try and kill some more time� just in time for everything to close. Suck. More aimless rambling with a quick stop at Meijer for candy and box wine.

Arrived at the theatre shortly before 7. There was nothing we particularly wanted to see, but hey � gotta see something, you know? Justin picked American Wedding (but I haven�t seen the previous two! How shall I keep up?!) but decided that he needed popcorn and decided to wait in Longy McSlowline for 15 minutes. Well, I�m sure as hell not gonna miss out on the hilarious oral sex jokes at the beginning of that fine film, so we�re gonna have to see The Medallion with Jackie Chan instead.

Yes, I typically am a bit of a snob about movies, in that I always find flaws� but something about Jackie Chan movies makes them untouchable. I always come out so entertained. The piece of shit was filled with plot holes and stupid jokes and confusion, but man! What a movie! And Claire Forlani is a fox. Ditto, Christy Chung. And she was with the loser British Interpol guy. So know what? I think British people are set, and I wish I were one. Then again, I wish I had some social skills to go along with that. Perhaps a bike ride instead. Yes, I know it�s raining.

Came back and tried to read my econ text, but the first chapter seemed eerily religious, and I pretty much know all the basics, so I think I�m gonna just ignore it for now. There�s still advertising, I guess, but I may save that for tomorrow. After stupid work. Stupid work. This is my Labor Day, fuckers.

Having little else to set my mind upon (or wanting to, at least for the moment), I decided to check my e-mail. Surprise, surprise � one from Lisa asking me to call sometime. But the subject notes �i have chai� and frankly I am getting too old for these tricks, so I get on my soggy bike and head in her general direction. Once again, much love for the bike because �though it seems like Fifth and White is crazy far away, it�s just another five minutes. The bike rack outside was completely crammed, so I made the wise choice and locked my bike to someone else�s. I cool. I knew Lisa�s apartment was either 21 or 31 (outside corner) and Spritz was fairly sure it was 31, so I just went up and knocked. And freaked out some other tiny little Asian girl. Stick-it shirt and Army jacket couldn�t have helped. Down to 21. No answer. Finally, fuck surprises, I�ll just call. 30. God damn it. I am giving you far too much detail, but this is because my life is so damn boring. Read on.

Actually, what is there to say? Her apartment is cute. Hung out for a few hours, and we talked some and listened to music. Well, mostly she talked because I just don�t have all that much to say to anyone. I fake it if I have to, but it makes me sort of uncomfortable, and I already feel way more anxiety around her than other people. She just always seems on edge, and it puts me on edge, too. Also, the feeling of always being judged? She called me mean about the requisite number of times, but the more I think about it, the more I�m pretty sure I�m just more honest than I am supposed to be. Guess we�ll see how things turn out.

It was still pouring when I left, but it�s one of those cases when being soaked is fun as long as you don�t stop. So I took a long ride around campus. Not a soul in sight pretty much anywhere, so I could sing without ramifications (what these would be, I have not decided). Wet and fast and actually pretty happy. I like weird things.

Coming back inside sucked, though. And it�s somehow 2 already, so good night, peaches.