08/29/2003 - 8:01 p.m. | easy, chewie

Kitty and Brytne lugged a TV and the PS2 over here so we could watch Requiem for a Dream while I (ahem) worked. I dunno - everyone said the film was so depressing, and it was by no means a happy film - it was pretty awful, but I guess I knew what to expect. "Man, these drugs are great! No downsides at all!" Mmm-hmm. Sure. I guess I sort of braced myself, is all. And it's always nice to see Jennifer Connelly in a position of intolerable suffering. ASS TO ASS! OK, here's something else that got to me: So, Christian McDonald was doing his whole informercial thing the whole time, and he said there were three rules. 1) No red meat. 2) No processed sugar. And then the third was supposed to be the REALLY hard one to follow and we never even heard it! Yes, it is a little detail, but they toy with you so much about it! IMDB doesn't even know! :O And yeah, you've heard it before, but the soundtrack is kickin'. OK, enough reviews. Strangely enough, someone in the building is playing Sixpence None the Richer's cover of "There She Goes" right now, and that's totally about heroin. Wise, ain't he?

Oh - and since I already had like the best chai ever today, I figured I should have the worst, too. God damn Cafe Paradiso. Insults my palette and all that snobby bullshit. Only about an hour left. Nice! I guess I could start on stats homework (which it turns out we do have - stupid stats), but I might as well save it 'til tomorrow so I have something to do. I really like typing on this keyboard, but the monitor is no good for my eyes. Instead, he says, I'll space. I would've liked to have gone see The Matrix: Whoa, but perhaps waiting is a good thing. Maybe I'll even get my ideal condition in which numerous black people scream things at the screen, calling each character "Matrix" ("Oh no, Matrix! Don't you be goin' in that door now!"). I'm just saying that would be ideal is all.

Things of importance: I now have about 5 friends of age 5 or less who hang around me for my first fifteen minutes at Freer. One of them keeps trying to climb over the door into my office. I prod him with what appears to be a pink foam American Gladiators jousting stick. I would be a good big brother but a terrible father. Also, while I am waiting for the ping pong geeks to leave, I play on what I guess is some sort of indoor monkey bars thing in the gym. Lately I've been trying to hang by my feet. It is how I will die, I am sure. But if not, I will be Batman! Meanwhile, Michelle says I am "so weird" and I don't have the faintest idea what I did to earn the description. I guess it's like how you're not really crazy unless you don't know you are. We'll just go with she hates me :D