10/02/2003 - 10:56 a.m. | we are silk tie cleaning experts

Again, I prove how functional I am. This is my one positive trait, so let me revel, all right? I woke up on Wednesday, planning on making an appointment with blood bank person for Thursday, coming up with some questions and background today, and being good and ready tomorrow. Yeah, right. I call the place, and the person I need to talk to is only gonna be here in the afternoon (a.k.a. busiest afternoon ever). Fine, some rearranging will need to happen.

I go to journalism, and we have a guest speaker, which means a lot less sternness and insanity. This guy actually seemed pretty nice, except the way he talked seemed to make time move slower. That is an unfortunate trait. While I listened, I wrote down as many questions as I could think of, even totally stupid ones, like "Why we need blood???" Ugh. Journalism makes you seem like a moron. I am totally hooked on the McKinley cough drops. Freud would have a field day with this, but I often wish I had something to suck on (PENIS). Problem is that most things are really sweet or strong-flavored, and I just kind of want nothingness. Enter cough drops. Menthol rules. I'm going to need some more.

Plenty of confusion in JLit, as the professor seems to have assigned the wrong text to some people or something. On the plus side, we don't have to read the huge tome that is The Tale of Genji, only the abridged version (which led to this lame joke about cutting out the inside of the full version and putting the abridged inside... and the Cliff Notes inside of that. We're nerds). While we're on the plus side, no more final exam. Just a paper worth 50% of our grade. That's a little terrifying, but despite several kicks in the face, I'm still reasonably sure I'm good at writing papers. Emanuel lectured the whole time, except to stop and kill bees, because we have the two people most frightened of bees in the whole world. The one girl just runs off screaming, and the guy does this crazy arm-shakin' limbo dance that I would have to demonstrate for you to get the full effect. Will got bored with McBigboob's button-lacking cleavage, and since that's pretty much all she has, I'd say she's in trouble.

I tend to overestimate on time, so I raced to the blood bank to get there by 1... and had 25 minutes to spare. Instead, I went to Dairy Queen for lunch. The food wasn't bad, but I'm not sure I liked the quiet sense of desperation in the air. Chubby kids (why are they not in school? too fat for school), construction workers, mutants... Dunno. Raced back to the blood bank for the interview, which went all right. The lady didn't know too many technical aspects, but I suppose that isn't her job. She also seemed more nervous than me, which I always find strange, especially in someone whose job is more or less PR. Anyway, my article will end up boring but adequate, and I'm pretty sure that's exactly what they're looking for.

Ran some errands before my group thing. I'm less and less sure I should be there. My problems seem so much less serious than the other people there. I mean, I know I am not Mr. Happy Sunshine all the time, but I usually have a handle on things... at least a bit. This one girl came in wearing the same shirt as last week and with her hair looking all greasy and tousled. The first thing she said was, "I haven't been to class since last week's session." Ack. People just make me nervous; I can't compete with that shit. We have the addition of some males to the class: 2 Asian guys, which makes the most sense, I guess. One is overworked and can't sleep, but he is also a total skeptic and won't give the counselor the benefit of the doubt at all. We were learning relaxation exercises today. The general idea is that you practice them whether you're stressed or not, and then your body will be better prepared to do them when something is wrong. But the guy would not accept this. "How, uh... can I do these, uh... relaxation... exercises... when I am, uh... not relaxed in the first place?" Open your mind just a smidge. And I totally think the counselor was moments away from calling him a loon. Actually, I'm way too aware of everyone else's neuroses; the counselor keeps noting things when I do (she just tends to say them in a lot gentler way than I probably would). Like, the other new guy is very AZN and tries to downplay his problems, but it's totally not working. Seriously, I could be a psych major, except it might require more caring than I could provide. Stupid asshole Nate. Cute, relatively normal girl wasn't there, which makes me worry. Not dead in a sewer, right?

I've been feeling a little better - well, a lot better comparatively - but I am not sure what I would attribute it to: meds, counseling, or external circumstances. Probably the latter because that would make me so much more fun and erratic!

Came home, crammed food in gullet, off to work once more. It's the mundane tasks that keep me going. For instance, we were out of report forms, so I drew my own. This killed an hour. And people talked to me more than usual on AIM. Or rather, I actually talked back a little, which I suppose is notable. Now if only I were normal. Two little kids came up and we talked for a while. They told me about their Hot Wheels, we compared shoes, and Charlie said he was getting fat from eating too much crab. I also finished You Shall Know Our Velocity!, which had an interesting device in it, but I'm not sure how much I enjoyed it otherwise. There are still passages that I really liked, but I think I liked Dave Eggers as himself more. In desperation, I bought this bigass package of "Strawberry Cremes" from the vending machine. Generic sandwich cookies with nasty fake strawberry cream in the middle. At least I'll never want to eat again. Brytne came by at 9:30 and attempted to help kill the boredom, but part of the problem is that I am a big ball of it, sucking the life out of others. Or was that someone else? While I dredged through the locker rooms to lock up (still creepy but the hope of hot hot lesbian action keeps me going... in general, I mean), Brytne feverently mauled the vending machine in an attempt to get the loose Pop Tarts to fall out. The loose Pop Tarts everyone has tried getting out. I found a hanger for her, and she tried to hack the gibson, but the vending machine company covered every base. Kyle showed up and further mauled the machine (making a huge, hilarious racket) to no avail. Next time, Gadget. Next time.

Why it was the worst night ever: 1) I checked my stats exam grade online. Will had gotten a 94, and I was even more sure of myself than he had been, so I expected something pretty decent. A 77. Now, if anything, I don't delude myself. If I did C work on a test or quiz, I know it when I finish with the thing. This, however, came as a total shock. I was sure about practically the whole test, and I did shit terrible. This worries me quite a bit. Will said the graders are pretty retarded, but still - stats is like the easiest class ever. What the fuck is wrong with me? A C?! Fucking terrible, Nate. 2) I had to miss Digital Underground at the Canopy Club. No "Humpty Dance" = burning rage. So much free time and yet so poorly sorted.

After the ping pong mutants left, Kyle, Brytne, and I went to Busey-Evans for old time's sake. Unfortunately, it totally sucks balls now. You have to buy individual items (no more grabbing huge piles of strawberries and chocolate, no more infinite coffee), and this might be my imagination, but I swear the quality has gone down as well. The apple juice did not taste like apples (fuck Apple Jacks), and the bagels were just bizarre. Man, that's really sad. Remember all the times we went there last year? That was really fun. Spritz and I would sneak in the back door, and Kyle would say if he was working, and we'd get craploads of decent food, and we'd bump into Shelly, and bleh... stupid life :(

Came back here for my twisted usual. Michelle and Spritz were at Eric Szczeniak's for a party, the concept of which just blows my mind. "Actually, throwing a party is pretty simple..." Fucking asshole. Spritz came back sort of... interesting. We sat out on the porch in the cold and talked for a bit, then we both flopped on my bed for a bit more. Using my amazing Paint skills, I showed Spritz the difference between a crab and a lobster in like a minute. I rule. Then I slept.

Kyle and I swear that all that Spritz's playlist plays is Alanis. Really strange, but fine by us.

I had a dream I weighed myself at IMPE. 128.7 lbs. And then I sang Ben Kweller. And I swear you were there.