03/31/2004 - 12:57 a.m. | she's in over my head

Rain is pretty much always a smack in the balls, whatever you're doing. Unless it's like rain collecting or some shit, but I don't even know what that is, so your hobby is fucking lame!! Anyway, now that it is spring, the deeply-wise part of me knew I was going to have to deal with it at some point, but I always remained hopeful, like, "Maybe I'll just time it right so that I'll always miss it by a bit." No such luck. Luckily, the lady I work with had an extra rain slicker (that I myself am supposed to have but decided not to try and dig out today because, for one thing, I have no idea how that shit is gonna work on a bike) so we stood like two weird little sunshine druids out in the rain. "No peripheral vision" was our chant. I tried putting my hands in the pockets, but they were more like Scientific Rain Guage Repositories, a fact my hands were less than appreciative of. Yes, definitely more slimy and cold than appreciative. As soon as I got home, I frantically dried them to avoid getting gangrene or whatever.

More importantly - I forgot to note this earlier! - pennies appeared at the same spot by the bus stop yesterday. Spritz informed me, so I went sprinting over to collect them. Nearly 50 cents again. Have I perhaps stumbled upon a source of infinite money, albeit in small increments? I shall keep you posted. Financial worries could be over and done with. Hmm - this is strange. In the little list of notes I left for myself, I wrote the word "pubes." I cannot possibly think of what I could have been reminding myself. I hope this doesn't come back to haunt me.

On the plus side, even though I beat the shit years ago, it would seem I have retained much of my skill at the terrible NES game "Karnov." Just like riding a bike. When I got back from crossing, I took my usual nap, and I had what may have been my grossest dream ever. I don't even want to talk about it, just that I woke up vaguely horrified not long after. Took a cold shower to shake off the feeling of that and then began the 20 minute process of deciding what the hell I was gonna wear to this job interview. I never spend that long on clothes - it's usually nice or it's not - but this was a special case, so I had to keep annoying Spritz about it. Polo shirt, man. The things I do for money.

Oh! I remembered what I wrote "pubes" for! So, the whole time it was just me and Spritz here, no gross clumps of hair in the shower. But since yesterday, the mysterious blonde and black pubes have returned to their status as the bane of my existence (I pick them up with my toes). Curiouser and curiouser.

After a week and a half of death sore throat, it seems I've picked up the disconcerting habit of clenching my teeth. I really don't want even more screwed up teeth, so I'm trying to figure out how to fix it. I tried negative reinforcement, but it appears that every time I sock myself in the face for clenching my teeth, that alone makes me clench my teeth. What is a boy to do? Buy a new gimmicky toothbrush, I guess. While I am not the type sucked in by shiny boxes, a new gimmick will almost always get me. "Lower your standards, Nate Walsh!" they cry. Fuck no, I retort! My standards are all I've got left. Get rid of them, and that's about it for self-respect, too. I would rather be alone forever with my ideals than without them with some lower lifeform. Am I still talking about teeth?

Well, stupid car down here has already incurred its first expense. Parking ticket for the front of my car sticking up past the sign. It's not my fault I drive a luxury liner, shitheads. Oh well, it better damn well pay for itself. Maybe I'll just tell the Urbana Police Department to transfer a day's pay from crossing the guard into their little vault of millions of dollars in parking fees.

In stranger news, I have a second interview at the Buckle. Well, the head manager was really late, so it was just me and the assistant, and I guess I forget that I am capable of being personable when the occasion suits me. Personable and enthusiastic. I live my life as a series of lies and all that. How weird would it be if I started hawking expensive jeans and all that. Shelly and Spritz came along because Spritz needed duplicates of some shirts he already had from Express but that his mom did not want to mail because she had already ironed them. I only mention this as another sign of the apocolypse. I'm glad his friend at Express says hi to me now; I always felt left out. We all debated whether the second ass on a package of underwear was a girl or guy (couldn't see from the back up). Apparently I know nothing of the female form. Who would have thought?

After a stop at Wendy's, where I swear the staff is getting more useless everyday - 20 minutes of calculations to punch our orders into the register! - I dropped them off and went to guard the cross. It was pretty cold and miserable, and I was quite dumb enough not to have thought to bring any sort of jacket, instead opting to cram food into my mouth as quickly as possible. And then some people in a car yelled something at me. "MEH!!!" I think was their exact phrasing. Scared the crap out of me. Zoomed off to Greg Hall to speak with my advisor, because I am all about punctuality. PUNK-tuality, rather. Yeah, turns out that means nothing to the rest of the world, so I waited 20 minutes for the advisor to finish up with moron girl. "But I don't want to take History 112! It's gonna be too hard!!!" Oh, just die so I can have your share of the oxygen. My own meeting took 5 minutes. I explained that I had never had an advisor and that I seemed to be getting along fine without one. She suggested a couple of classes and reminded me that I have to complete 150 hours to get a double major (the one kink in my otherwise flawless plan), and that was it.

Came back here to sort of half-assedly talk to some strangers while trying to get all the endings for that "Love Hina" game because nothing gets my rocks off gaining like the password for virtual paperdolls of each character, am I right? Over to Dank's for a pretty mediocre epsiode of "American Idol" (vastly improved by the fact that Dank would occasionally shoot one of those horrid light up electronic sound effects guns at the screen) and a pretty great episode of "Scrubs." Dank's little gun was also labeled "AMALEK BUSTER," which I assumed was some sort of Jewish joke I didn't understand, and it turns out I am right. According to, uh, history or whatever, Amalek is like the main enemy of the Israelites. I think. DON'T YOU LOVE LEARNING NEW THINGS!

I went along to Meijer and rode on this little cart thing that I guess is supposed to be used for rolling underneath cars or something, but I think it's perfect just as a bizarre form of transportation which is probably no easier (maybe even harder) than walking, but which keeps me about 100 times happier. Food? Fuck no. I got the essentials: Glass bottles of Coke, pastel-tinted light bulbs, and another little caribiner because my old one exploded, and I have been in my own personal hell ever since. "Think I'll check the mail...... ARG! FUCK! Car keys!!" I was gonna get some GoGurt, but then I stopped and thought about what I was doing and decided I won't even think of that ever again. Will has his car down here now, so he bought a skull gear shift knob and some car air fresheners that apparently smell exactly like the smell he was trying to cover up. Dank needs new hubcaps, so we all tried to sell him on the fake plastic spinner ones. Too classy for that, it seems. I'm losing my voice.

Then we did the unspeakable. Which I can't speak of. No dungeons or dragons were involved, though. I can assure you. My talent base grows, even if it is in horrid, antisocial activities.