04/23/2004 - 2:22 p.m. | the opening into something felt to be insatiable

I was in the process of opening WordPad to write an entry, and somehow I got sidetracked for, well, 24 hours. Maybe less.

Every morning when I get back from crossing the guard, I can hear the alarm going off in someone's room in the house right next to us. So I always yell, "YOUR ALARM'S GOING OFF!" I hope I have become part of their morning routine. "Hit snooze, ignore mysterious disembodied voice, masturbate."

I had two dreams in my in-between nap: 1) Spritz and I met Kristen Weber somewhere, and she started blatantly hitting on him. In attempts to improve his opinion of her, I assume. See, the previous evening, Kyle and Spritz had been discussing her, how she was like the quintessential 7 (not exactly a fox, but you'd totally do her - Kyle thinks she'd be a monster in the sack) and how you could see her in pretty much every person. Anyway, Spritz lowered her to a 6, and I guess Kristen was trying to raise her rank back up. "THAT'S NOT ALL SHE WAS TRYING TO RAISE!!! WOOOOO!" Thank you, "Married with Children" audience. Incidentally, Kristen, if you ever Google yourself and find this, HAHAHA good joke, right? Remember when we shared a table in math? 2) I was still technically working at the Buckle, but it looked a hell of a lot more like a Value City. Ben Stein was my manager, and for whatever reason, he absolutely hated my guts. Everybody else would get his usual monotone, but he'd just start screaming at me about imagined grievances. What a terrifying man.

The afternoon was spent avoiding the rain (Guess what? That doesn't work when you have to go out and wait for nonexistent children to safely cross Race St.) and sloppily painting my WWF Rhett Miller posters. Unfortunately, I guess I don't need them for the time being, as Rhett Miller is a huge flake. I'd kind of been worried about this and had been searching the internet for other signs that he actually was playing in Missouri, but when I called the bar he was supposed to be at, and they'd never even heard of him ("We've been getting a lot of calls about it, though" - probably all from me), I kind of figured my plan was foiled. I should be happy - at least I found out before I left - but now I'll be waitin' until July to see him. He'll be with his band, though, so maybe he won't decide to sit in the corner and pick his butt.

Anyway, that pretty much shot my night. I went on a huge binge of terrible, terrible "comedy" pictures. Hours and hours. My brain was starting to burn. Kyle and Shelly weren't any help; they wanted me to watch a movie with them, but for reasons unknown to me and the lord above, they insisted on watching Bounce with Gwyneth Paltrow and Ben Affleck. Bounce and only Bounce. What an odd film to hold such dedication to. Two of the actors I dislike the most, the one movie I could never be convinced to watch, zero chance of me staying, etc. Instead, I went over to Yousaf's and watched A Few Good Men with him. Well, after he bitched that we should go to Schnucks for some candy, which we did, of course. I bought a 25 cent bag of green Shamrock popcorn. It's as good as it sounds! Anyway, the movie! I kept screaming about how Demi Moore's character was secretly G.I. Jane (as well as the fact that she blew Michael Douglas in Disclosure), but eventually I did actually just watch the movie. Tweren't bad, I guess. Especially for liking none of the actors in it except Noah Wyle and Kevin Pollack.

Up for what I thought was going to be a wretchedly long day. Shower, guard crossing, Buckle. Luckily, for whatever reason, they let me out at 12:30 instead of 5. Actually, I sort of have a feeling about the reason. Pretty sure they probably hate me because I don't try to hassle people as much as everyone else does. Instead, I give myself little projects (color-coding the random t-shirts, building like half the girls' outfits in the store, still trying to learn about all those damn jeans, etc.) and sing to myself. I mean, I'm still helpful and friendly - and my success rate seems about as good as everyone else's without having to be a total nuisance - but I'm sure the hatred remains. And I'm such a good employee too! And a gem of a human being.

OK, I dunno about that. I do keep myself pretty well defended. The night of the barcrawl, the second time we were pregaming, Spritz and I were talking, and he said something like, "You're a good guy, if a little moody." And I've been thinking about that a lot (building up my denial, some might say). There was a time when I really was moody, like the real deal, where I'd feel this or that and have no idea why not. Since the pills and all, though, pretty much all my moods are based upon a reason. They don't fluctuate randomly; if I seem pissed off or reclusive, there is almost certainly something wrong. And, more generally, I think that's because, when it comes right down to it, I think I really do give a fuck about things a lot more than most people. I try to act like I dont sometimes, but you'd be amazed at all the stuff I care about. And I guess part of it is that I'm ticked off that lots of people really don't care. And I'm not denying that it's still pretty lousy of me to keep my thoughts inside, letting my mood reflect them and not telling anyone and sort of assuming that they will eventually catch on. But! That's passive-aggression, not moodiness. There. I hope that's all cleared up.