04/19/2004 - 6:57 p.m. | peanut gallery shut up

I bet you were getting all lazy, reading my entries in like 2, 3 minutes at a time. Yeah, no more of that weak shit. Cleopatra, comin' at ya.

Yesterday, I tried so very hard not to write my lab report, but my darn work ethic kept getting in the way. Up at 1, immediately decide to start cleaning because cleaning can be considered productive without the added trauma of actually doing the thing I need to get done with. Started getting close to finishing, and that's even worse, so I grabbed Spritz with some half-assed scheme of all these things we just had to do - eat, go shopping, tan, whatever. And, since we were out, and it was so nice (nice enough to still tan indoors lolololol), I might as well dye my hair, right? OK, I don't see the logic in that either, but pretend I turned into a girl there for a minute, and then you won't even notice the difference.

Because they are crazy, see.

Anyway, we came back, and I finished cleaning and dyed, but "accidentally" forgot to put in my contacts beforehand, and I couldn't put my glasses with my hand all dye-covered, so I pretty much couldn't start on the report and pretty much had to watch the "Lilo & Stitch" marathon in the meantime. After I did finally get all the gunk cleaned out, I started writing for a good hour, maybe a bit more, when I started talking to Andrea about our plans, and then I got too jumpy to really focus on work, which is all well and good because Kyle and Michelle came back then, and all hope of doing anything besides inadequate jigging to my Celtic bagpipes CD. They started frantically giving me advice for the evening, all of which could only be called hilariously useless. I swear they were more nervous than I was.

I swear, I just keep right on changing right in front of my eyes because I actually had a lot of fun, and there was a time when I could never have imagined that. Honestly, though, now that I've done it, I don't even see what's so hard about dating. Good old confrontation. First, I notched rodents off my list, now dates... If I can just get rid of that crazy aversion to cold food, I would be as practically close to perfection as I can get. But seriously, in hindsight, I think I was designed with the explicit purpose of like the first four dates. After that, I'm pretty tapped, and you're left with just me and my personality (horrifying notion), but we're good until then, right? Anyway, like I said, I had fun. We didn't run out of things to talk about, and Andrea was pretty and nice and smelt gud and didn't seem to dislike me. Oh - I guess I never really mentioned any more than like that brief half-sentence, did I? Well, she is Andrea, and we met on HotOrNot (...LOL?) and have been talking on AIM for a while. She's a chem major who plays on the women's hockey team here!But, like I've been telling everyone, there isn't much to tell. We went out for Thai, and I was just going to drive her home because I didn't want to press my luck or anything, but she seemed sad and was all "meh" that we were already back, so I asked if she wanted to Borders or something, and she said yes, and I was secretly very happy. Course, everything was pretty much closed, so we just drove around for a while and ended up getting ice cream even though we were ridiculously full. I invited her out to bingo afterwards, but she's not 19 yet, and I didn't want to annoy her too much, so I took her home not long after. And no - no touchy-feely garbage. If you knew me at all, you'd know that even with my closest friends, I rarely go beyond high fives. Hugs are for weirdos. Anyway, I guess I should probably consult everybody before I talk to her again because I wouldn't want to commit another social gaffe by, like, talking to her within 17 hours or whatever.

I met up with Kyle and Michelle at Bingo, and they were pretty smashed. I guess their plan was to get me there [smashed] as well, but I still had a vast chunk of that report to write, so I mostly kept slipping them my gross ass double rum and Coke, which they drank without thinking. This was Kyle's first bingo, thus lengthening the chain. He met Touchdown and felt the thrill of nearly winning the big pot at the end. Shelly won a stuffed flower (uh?), which was offset karmically by some fat hoes making fun of her audibly for how short her shorts were or something. Now, as a licensed pants technician, I can assure you that on the current market, it's pretty tough to get any girls' shorts longer than that anywhere at all, but you can't blame the hoebags for being hoebags, right? Well, Shelly was, like I said, pretty drankled, so she starts crying, and Kyle and I are sort of mystified as what to do. He tries to comfort her, as do a whole lot of other people around her (including this Asian guy we met who is also named Dank and who was pretty much totally awesome and who we shall become best friends with; as well the original insult culprits who came over to apologize), but as I believe I noted only paragraphs above, I do not touch people willingly. So I instead offered to beat up pretty much any girl she wanted. "I've got Irish blood in me!" I said. "I'm genetically designed to kick ass at bars, and I will fight pretty much any girl in the world for you." And I will stand by that.

She eventually cheered up, and we went to Jimmy John's, where the guy said he could see my roots, making me all antsy and paranoid for a mirror. Came home and finally wrote for another few hours until I had only the one bitchy part left. Listened to Phantom Planet until I could puke. And then a little more still. Slept, crossed the guard, wrote more, hassled some people about the very unsympathetic position they've gotten themselves into, and then ran off to lab for the final day of chopping up sheep brains. Aw.

Lately, I've taken to calling Kyle and Michelle the two worst engineers in the world, which might possibly really offend them, but not to the point where they might actually sit down and try to work. But somebody has to take down their elitism a little bit, I think. And really, what's so bad about it? I said it should be more like a competition for them because only one of them can be the worst, so they'll have to fight it out for it! Instant example shortly thereafter: They go out to play catch. Michelle comes back in five minutes later. "I forgot my keys, and Kyle fell over on the steps coming up." Score's still tied then.