09/11/2003 - 10:56 a.m. | STEFFI

So, uh... regarding work. Yes, I worked. I keep seeing people I think are familiar, but I assume this is because I am switching over to my core conscious and my brain is trying to bridge between reality and the reality I've created. You should probably go read Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. Oh, I should mention to Kyle that the one hot chick from our theatre class always comes in to swim. And Kristen Ware. I did my econ homework... Actually... turns out I didn't. See, somehow I bought the wrong macroeconomics books, so although I did do some problems, they are completely different and random problems, and I have to go out and buy a new book. Stupid, Nate. Real stupid. Not that I have too much else to do besides sit around and wait for the cable company to come. I read the fairly long JLit assignment, and man - I forgot how boring some of those poems and junk can get. Some of them are cute or pretty or something, but the ones I read last night were pretty much all emo. And I am punk, man. Not emo. Hardcore.

Anyway, I was finished with my supposed homework with like 4 hours to spare, and I was starving, so I sprinted over to Jimmy John's for a samich (and next door for a lime soda). Food is wonderful, as I'm sure the rest of you already know. I passed about an hour singing into a bottle, but I got a little tired of the looks, and I'm not very good at using a lasso it seems (I attempted), so I proceeded to read a Francine Pascal novel. My First Love & Other Disasters. She writes how girls think!! I have now read two books of the famed Victoria Martin Trilogy. I must have the third. Anyway, having read all of the crazy antics of this teenage girl, I am beginning to worry that I am wasting the prime of my life or some shit like that. I mean, she's going to clubs and dancing and making out with guys and shit, and what the fuck am I doing? Freer Gym on a Wednesday night. I mean, I can't dance (this has not been proven, but it is presupposed) nor do I have any desire to, and I'm not hot by any means (my hair adds character but Quasimodo had character in spades), and I'm also apparently not confident, and I guess I am supposed to be ripe with it, so I'm a little concerned. Unfortunately, I wouldn't even know how to begin fixing it, so I'm gonna stick to my original plan of, uh, hobo, die alone.

11 approached, as time is known to do, so I went up to the ping pong club room expecting the worst. I was pleasantly surprised. They were already pretty much finished putting all the boxes and everything away. Yay! Leave on time! Unfortunately, I forgot to account for one crucial element: the Asians. Four stupid Asian guys sat on the balance beams after everyone else had gone, after I had turn the lights out on them, and no many how many glares I shot at them, they just sat around bullshitting. Have I told you my patience can wear thin? I went Dr. Cox on their asses. I said to the leader, "Listen, Shownash [the fuck?] - if you and the girls want to keep up the ping pong tea party, do it out in the hallway because the gym is closed." Perhaps this was unnecessary, but I am sick of people thinking that I will be forever shoved around. I have my limits. Well, that cleared them out pretty fast, so I ran out and took a fairly long bike ride around Urbana because I was filled with pissiness and nervous energy.

Came home, took off my shirt, was complimented numerous times for looking like a badass. I assume this would be multiplied if I had muscles of any sort. Ignore. Then we did, uh, junk until almost 3.

I woke up at 7 to listen to NPR and scrawl gibberish notes on a notepad that I was smart enough to leave next to my bed last night. I was supposed to listen for a half hour straight, and I really had to pee but didn't want to leave, so I went in a party cup. I am unbelievably awesome. Then I crashed for a while longer, and HERE I AM.