11/08/2003 - 1:56 a.m. | i feel justified

As suggested, I will show those latin bitches what for - diary style! I woke up this morning really dopey, and I could just not shake the feeling. I got plenty of sleep, but I just sat spacing at AIM for like 20 minutes. Shower did not help. Freezing cold bike ride might have helped, but I can't seem to remember because I think I slipped into a coma at some point during it. Despite my rigid attachment to my construction of a tolerance to the cold, I might have to cave and get some gloves because I feel like I could snap my fingers off and eat them like so many popsicles.

What was I talking about? Ah, yes. Class. In journalism, we were assigned to write a feature story by next week. Despite the numerous examples and hints Maggie McFadden gave us, I still have no idea what a feature story actually is. It may involve homeless people?? We got out early, so I drank juice and read until econ. Yet another B on my test - whoop dee shit. This guy kept casting sideways glances at me, and it really freaked me out. I am not paranoid by nature; I am paranoid by you, creepy staring fellow! The TA gave us an evaluation form to fill out and one of the questions was what we thought of his accent. I put "totally sexy," of course, but he read over a few of the responses from his earlier classes. Someone suggested he needed to say "crickey!" more often (more often than, uh, zero times because he's from New Zealand, and they are not seemingly as dumb as Australia).

Had a quick break where I prepared my thesis for my JLit paper and blew off some people. Kyle and I listened to Bishop Allen, who are pretty adorable. Anyway, back to stats. No need to frantically compare homework this time, no sir! Instead, I read and Will tried to complete both his JLit thesis and a psych writing assignment. I am going into a lot of unnecessary detail right now, aren't I? Sorry about that; I can't seem to distinguish what's important as of this moment.

Since I had some time before my meeting with Professor Pastreich, I went to Red Herring for the first time in a long while. I was brave and tried the spinach and tomato dal, which wasn't bad, but like most vegetarian fare, pretty bland. My raspberry juice was good, though. The girl working at the counter was sort of flirting with me, I think, but I'm sort of obtuse and never play along and assume it was all some sort of accent. I am good at playing the field. Har.

Kyle called to see if I wanted to go to Aldi with him and Brytne, but I didn't think I'd have time. See, one thing I am proud of is my somewhat meticulous nature. I always allow myself plenty of time for meeting. However, once I went in to talk (passing Stupidface along the way), it took all of five minutes because I write kickass, detailed outlines, and I'm articulate, you sons of bitches.

So, flew home and then, you know, sat and waited because that's just how life works. Anyway, we eventually got on our way (Chevy Chase Drive? I don't understand!). Aldi is an amazing place. So bizarrely cheap and generic. I dunno - you could get a month's worth of food there for like 20 bucks. Of course, you'd have to look yourself in the eye and say you bought Mr. Pudding or Corntown or whatever, but it could be done. Kyle and Brytne stocked up, but I only got a few things, most importantly ice cream bars. I promptly ate three of them. During the third, my mom called and told me she had spoken to Michelle's mom on our behalf. Hope it turns out all right.

Kyle had to help Brytne take stuff up to her room, so I sat and guarded the car. The heat wasn't on, so I did the only thing I could think of to stay warm: eat another ice cream bar. And one sounds good now, actually.

Came home, and I dunno what I did, but I passed by a couple hours until it was time to go to work. I had talked to Ryan earlier in the day, and he said that pretty much all you do at Huff is sit in the gym and do homework. Fine by me. But, as I got near the hall, I noticed there were just tons of cars parked outside. Like, hundreds. Uh... sort of strange. So, I got around to the front, and it looks like there was some sort of girls volleyball game going on. Weird. IMPE doesn't handle that sort of stuff, and I assume it's in the gym I'm supposed to be working in, so I dunno what to do. I decide to go in and take a look around at least, but then someone stops me. "You need to buy a ticket." "But, uh, I work here." "You still need a ticket, though." Mmm-hmm. Well, I'm not paying like an hour's wages to make 2 hours' worth, so I left. Let them sort it out.

I read for a while and ate Lifesavers candy canes and when I could take it no more, I slept for a few hours. I think Justin called at some point and asked about seeing a matinee tomorrow, but I need to confirm that. Anyway, around 11 I got up and started to get ready for mystery party. Yeah, I can't believe I was going either. Kyle and Brytne left to see The Matrix: The Fire Inside and I ironed a shirt. That's right. These are where my priorities lie. Anyway, I left a little after midnight, hunted around for the place, realize I had parked right in front of it. Stupids. Anyway, I was starting to get a little nervous, but it's best to just rush down your fears before they can build themselves up, so I just burst in apt. 105.

5 people. An e-mail sent to hundreds and hundreds, and we have five people. Four of them are guys, and they are swarming around the poor one girl. As soon as I step in and assess this situation, I take action on the fly. "Uh, is Jim here?" "Jim?" "Yeah, tall guy. Looks sort like me?" Jim wasn't there. I left.

Nobody was gonna be around, though, for the next two or three hours at least, and I'm getting sick and tired of being the stay at home loser. I will be the going out loser, you fucks. So, remembering Spritz's recommendation, I went to Joe's and danced.

Yeah, I'm amazed, too. But their dance floor is really good, even though the DJ was pretty much ass and played shitty, shitty techno (minus the techno version of "How Does It Feel?" of course). Anyway, I would like to point out how much superior I am to everybody there because of the purity of my purpose. I did not go there to meet people, to talk to anybody, to grind lumpy parts, to wander around trying to find some pussy like all the other shitheads kept doing. No, I went there to dance, and I fucking danced. Alone. Perhaps you think this is really lame. You are right. But I had fun, and I didn't have to worry about if there were any girls around or whether they thought I was cute (they didn't), blah blah blah. Watching all the other guys shove around trying to find a girl that would tolerate them just made me really mad. I guess the shoving didn't help. I refuse to participate in these mating rituals. I dunno - the guys all seemed so desperate, and it just ticked me off. Stupid horny idiots. Why can't anything be simple anymore? Whenever a girl did start thwomping me, I assumed it was an accident and ran over. I am not a good dancer, I am not an attractive guy (AT ALL). How could it not be a mistake? Anyway, they prolly thought I was gay (I work the ass a little too much), but getting ridiculous and sweaty makes me feel better. I dunno if I'd even want to go with someone else. They would just feel obligated. I'm such a creepy loner, and I must resist the urge to smoke.

A pretty damn cold ride back (I try to be careful and avoid the phrase "cold as hell" because it doesn't make any sense - not that most of the things I say make a lot of sense). I wish people told me about parties because I still have tons of energy. I guess I should sleep early, though (heh - early). Tanning tomorrow and haircut and maybe dyeing and movie. Fill the hours, Nate. It's all I can do.