01/14/2004 - 8:25 p.m. | some time on knees in thanks for what he's given

I feel some competition in the air, but that might just be the smell. And I've always sucked at competition, so we'll just ignore it.

I finished the "American Pie" trilogy, and boy, do I feel fucking better for it. Although they could have at least explained away Chris Kline in the last one. "Uh, he's in Rome. Yes... Rome." I just fill in the gaps in my logic. Someone makes an "American Pie" reference, and I might get the fucker. But then I watch the movie and now I do. It's really a very primitive system. I wish I were smart.

Anyway, by the time I got done with that shit yesterday, I was already way beyond what I was planning. Timewise, I mean. Then I was going upstairs to immediately shower, but things started eating away at my subconscious (as they usuallly do), and I had to come back down to search for some stuff online. Namely, this one particular manga author (LAME!) and a DVD about Celtic dancing (ULTRA LAME!). Both were sort of a bust, but on the plus side, now Amazon.com is totally confused about what things I like. "Well, he likes dancing... so he'd probably like LINE DANCING! And he likes Love Hina, so he'd probably like YUGIOH!" You shitheads. It's still loads better than ebay's attempt to predict my behavior, though.

So, I eventually showered, and then I was like, "Off to Dank's! OFF to Dank's for sure!" But he called and asked if he had time to shower, and I sort of felt bad because I didn't want to push him, so I decided to have lunch. And then, since I was having lunch anyway, I figured I might as well watch "Lilo & Stitch" on the Disney Channel. Dad walks in. "I thought you were going to Dank's..." "After that." "You're staying here - for THIS?!" I am a misunderstood creature. Although rightly so. So, I was finally ready to leave and then I realized that the CD player and adapter were no longer on the stairs. I ask my dad. "They're in the truck," he says. So I start to walk to the truck. "Your mom has the truck," he says and proceeds into the long story about why this happened, namely God hates us. So I wait. Mom gets home, I grab the CDs and junk, and I flee.

I used to drive fast. Now I don't because it gives me time to think and listen to music and not hit stuff. These are all wonderful plusses. I was in an Irish mood, for obvious reasons, and now thankfully, that has passed.

Upon arriving at Dank's, we watched TV or some shit for a while, then headed out the library (beep, beep! hey!), Arby's, and the movie theatre. Our original intent was to see My Baby's Daddy or whatever that shit's called, but we weren't that attached to the idea, so we just went to the closest place to see Chasing Liberty. We were a little early, though, so I dragged Dank around to look at stupid unmentionable junk with me. Anyway, we walked by these three guys, and they were like, "HERE COMES TWO LOSERS ON THE LEFT!" (Dank thinks they said "lamers," and while he may not be right, it certainly is funnier) to us. I don't know why we are such a target (I am thinking specifically of the three guys in the car who yelled "DO YOU SUCK EACH OTHER'S DICKS?!" at us two summers ago), and certainly three guys together is lamer than two, and I just don't understand, but it's a damn good thing I don't like girls, or I would just shoot myself in the face right here and now.

The theatre was dead, and Dank and I are both to the point where we could just wathc previews for two hours and be happy, but eventually the movie started, and that was fine, too. It certainly wasn't great, but we kept talking about fisting and screaming "YOU LIED TO ME," which pretty much makes any film tons more enjoyable. And Mandy Moore has boobs, which I've been told is desirable for my sex. I forget. Dank kept convincing me to watch more cartoons at his place until I finally forced myself to leave at 11. I had to stop for some bubble gum because it's sort of become a sickness for me, and then I chewed happily, listened to Old 97's, and fucked with this asshole who shined his super brights at me all the way home. Then sleep. Look, I'm writing a diary entry!

The dreams are so weird, and I don't even remember them until right before bed. I guess they're not good enough to explain mostly, but they do keep me occupied, which is the most I have sometimes. Slaps self. I missed the arrival of my computer parts, but it's not as though I'm going to put it together. It'd just be a stupid pile of parts. I really don't have much to say about my days because they pass by so quickly. I sit and I think, "Wow! This is like a twenty-fivethousandth of my life, and there it goes," and there I go. Once I finally got myself together, most of the day was gone already, and the remainder I finally spent writing letters. I think I have found a new passion, I think. I cranked out like 8 in two hours and all were pretty well detailed, in character, and kickass. Let's see...

1) Melissa Schuman re: Love Don't Cost a Thing
2) Michelle Trachtenberg re: Dream
3) Wendy's re: Fries and expensive Super Value Menu
4) Keebler re: Stale-tasting products (???)
5) Amanda Bynes re: I dunno
6) Globe Trekker re: New format
7) Safety Light re: Trying to win prize
8) Hasbro re: Missing Marvin Gardens in Monopoly

All of these are lies. I am a bad, bad person. By the time I was done, we prepared dinner while listening to bagpipes, watched Freaky Friday, and now everyone is asleep. What a sucky, sucky entry. YOU'RE LOSING, NATE! LOSING!