05/07/2004 - 2:35 a.m. | you talk way too much

Did you know that today is this thing they call "Reading Day" here at U of I? Apparently, the Thursday before finals start, all classes are cancelled to give you some much-needed study time, and it's a very big deal for everyone. Somehow, I managed to go two years without the slightest notion of the lack of class on this day - or even of the day's existence itself. I guess I always just kind of took it off on my own? Sorry, engineers. For once, I am not intentionally trying to piss you off.

But, I will tell you one thing - it feels good to be done with stuff. I mean, not that I was ever doing much anyway, but now I don't even have that lingering feeling of how I should probably feel guilt because I'm not doing something. I rolled out of bed at 11 and since it is absolutely amazing and beautiful outside, I asked Spritz if he wanted to go tan. We did. In our pyjamas. This isn't quite so bad for Spritz, because he at least sort of matched, and his hair is short enough to not show battle damage. I was not quite so lucky. Red shirts and blue-green plaid jammy pants with hair exploding out in all greasy directions. I'm surprised I didn't get maced for being a bum.

Now that real work is done, though, I feel I have to start in upon the so-many projects I kept delaying time and again. Firstly, I was going to clean the apartment, but somehow Spritz tricked me into not doing that. "Can I throw these papers away, man?" "Wait until Wednesday." Oh. Then I came to the sudden conclusion that I was never going to make any t-shirts if it required waiting to save up the surplus of funds needed for silk screening shit, so out to Michael's for $6 worth of fabrics markers and on to Old Navy for $40 in clearance t-shirts. I know, bit of a splurge, but I just added a whole 'nother week where I don't have to do laundry now. And then like $30 worth of books for no apparent reason.

I still had some time in between then and when I had to go guard the cross, and since taking the car part of the plan, I needed to kill a bit, so I got a mango iced tea and sat out on the benches by the undergrad library for a while. It's so weird to be doing absolutely nothing at all, but I can't say it didn't make me glad. Actually, I was pretty much overjoyed the hour walk there and back. Some might attribute this to the sudden increase in the number of female appendages visible (and on bikes), but I like to think that there wa s a hidden z-factor involved. The weather, I mean, you dolt. Well, whatever. I'm gradually building up from eye contact, too. Now I give eye contact, and I smile. God help me if I ever talk to anybody.

While I was crossing the guard, this guy in a big old boat of a car pulls up to me and starts asking about the job. I swear, sometimes it's like the script calls for these things. I could have even predicted his response when I had to tell him that I was actually working for the Urbana Police Dept. "Heh heh heh - well, maybe not then! They don't like me too much down there! Heh heh heh!" And then some story too elaborate and lengthy for me to even try and relate, if you can imagine that. I got my inbetween Jurassic Illini fix of Jurassic Park at McKinley, while waiting for my 5 minute appointment to get prescriptions refilled. Forgive me if I'm bitchy, but I think I might have sunstroke or something.

Whenever someone makes sort of a bizarre gesture at me, I have this terrible urge to mock them until they physically stop me from doing so. I just think that the arm raise speaks volumes as far as low confidence goes. A shrug would mean far more to me, I think. And I maintain that foosball sounds like really awkward, first time, confusing sex. Think about all of those implications, huh? I worked all of an hour at Freer and then back home to get tacos with Spritz and watch the countdown to the "Friends" finale or whatever. Of course, I had to leave before the last third of the actual show had ended, but Spritz filled me in pretty well. They all got SARS and died. Feeling creative, I added slits to my jeans. That should make them go faster.

Man, we had some bullshit team meeting tonight at the Buckle. The general idea was "How to Pressure Someone Who Has Actually Decided to Buy Our Hundred Dollar Jeans Into Spending Several Hundred More Dollars on Accessories." We all had to build outfits for a pair of jeans of the opposite sex. All the other guys did all this classy junk, but I kind of went my normal route for bright colors that, er, pretty much go together. And the higher up person was there, so everyone was sucking up, and I was on the verge of throwing up on the walls. Two good things, though - I think I am like Shawn's favorite now, and we just hired this new guy (Gibby?!) who is at the very least a metrosexual. I want him very much working the floor in his suits and flip flops. That's the kind of stuff I'd wear if I had money and taste and were Ryan Seacrest. But... darn. I came home and made a couple of shirts and would like to make a couple more, but first I have to get some sewing supplies... and learn how to sew. Until then.