05/21/2004 - 2:44 a.m. | i count your eyelashes.... secretly

I know, you could be thinking, "Whoa! That Nate Walsh is so far behind!" but hopefully no one is that engrossed in my boring ass life. "AND THEN! THIS GIRL LOOKED AT ME! AND I THINK MAYBE SHE WANTED TO DO ME" Yeah, OK, shitbrain. Don't worry; you haven't been missing much. While everyone else here has been spending their days drinking and .... yeah, drinking, I'm more or less back to the same cycle I've been in every summer for the past few years: Work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep. Have to sleep so that I'm chipper enough to work, which still exhausts me enough so that I sleep again. And occasionally I read a little. Why is it that my summers are typically so much less fun than my in-school times? Karma, some might say.

Tuesday and Wednesday were spent at the Buckle, but I might as well have been working at two separate places, they were so different. Tuesday was with Danee, which is roughly the equivalent of being alone at the factory with Harve. I dunno, it's just not easy to relax around that type of person. I think you know what I mean. How does someone come to care so much about such stupid, stupid things? I hope I never get placed into a management position if it starts making me think like... that and talk... that way. Or is it that they were always that way, and that's what got them to the management position? I know I'm not being all that clear here, but if you've ever had any sort of upper level manager, you'll know what I'm talking about. They're just so anal and persnickety, but they try to act all casual and buddy-buddy about it. Anyway, since I'm such a literary fellow, and since I don't have much respect for anyone's intellectual abilities, I have started foreshadowing my eventual departure to Danee. The trick is to make it seem like their fault, like they are most likely mentally disturbed for trying to make people do these things. For any more hints, you will have to pay me $29.95. Anyway, since my time there may soon be ending, I decided to stock up on shit while my discount is good. Therefore, 'nother cowboy shirt, some chain thing, new sandals, and two pairs of jeans, one of which was expensive enough to put me in Spritz territory. Don't I feel chic?

Wednesday was completely different. Shawn and Heather were there, so I was much happier. I think Shawn wants to hang out outside of work (He was on campus the other day and kept yelling out the window, "Natedawg? Has anyone seen Natedawg?" - Cute), but I don't think he'd be happy about my refusal to smoke the weed weed. Sorry, man, but I'm coughing up gross enough shit now without a bunch of smoke gumming up the works. My phlegm looks exactly the same as they little butter pods they give you at McDonald's. Anyway, there was no hassling about sales, so I actually made a few, but most of the day was spent building this giant wall of girls' tanktops. I dunno, man - I would almost say it was an affront to the gods. Shawn and I started doing this whole revival preacher thing about how we could keep nothing in back except for the layaway. He did the sermon, and I gave the amens. "And there shall be not one item in the backahhh" (NO LORD NOT ONE THING) "Except for the shoesahhh" (DOC MARTENS AMEN) "And the items on layawayahhh" (TOO POOR TO AFFORD THE JEANSUH NOW GIVE ME SIXTY DAYS) And then I laid hands on a pile of tank tops and started having a seizure. THE RAPTURE! THE RAPTURE!That's the kind of perfect I'm talking about. The rest of the employees can suck a nut - well, Stevi likes me, so she's all right, but I had to work with Kenney the other day, and I still think he's a shithead - but I will miss the other two.

Today was my happy day off, except for the whole "getting up at 6:30 so as to drive four hours round trip to Morris and back" thing. At least I had my time in court. All 5 minutes of it. The little underling I dealt wth sort of looked like Andy Richter, but the fact that he made me pay $150 does little to further endear him to me. Must keep nose clean for three months. So no going anywhere. This coincides with my "no money on gas ever" plan as well. Since I only seem to do things when they make the least amount of sense, I started chatting up the cute pink shirt girl sitting in my row. Apparently having poor driving habits is not the best foundation for a relationship because she just seemed pretty annoyed. Should have gone with American Eagle Sweatshirt, but I have my standards. My ultra-high standards.

The day cannot be called a complete bust, though, for while there was a lot of sitting and reading and killing time at Wal-mart (I had to buy some new deodorant, which became like an hour long ordeal. See, I hate how guys' deodorant all smell like same two musky things. FRESH! SPORT!I'm not saying I need - or even want - flowery shite, but maybe something a little fruity and pleasant, huh? Nope. Not masculine enough. So, instead, I got some Sure just so I could do the whole thing from the mid-90's commercial. Sure... Unsure! *synth drum beat*), Justin and I finally met to eat at Petey's Cantina. Sadly, it was actually pretty good. Not nearly as much of a dive as I had been hoping for. That's what happens when you have unusually low ironic expectations. We got ice cream, too, and I managed to pee in an empty bottle of Orange Infuse on the drive home.

Started at the candy store today. Compared to the Buckle, this is a fucking cake walk. I'm so confused that I don't have earn commission and such. Of course, this might all change once we finally hire a real manager there, but we'll keep praying for delays on that, won't we? I was trained by this girl from Alabama who works in a store in Indiana. Very manager-y. By the rules, tries to be chummy, fails, etc. Luckily, there was also this really cool guy named Toy working there, and while the girl would tell me company policy on everything, he would tell me how it really went down. His favorite phrase was like, "Naw, we never do that shit." It's pretty much the easiest, laziest job in the world. Perfect. Two good things to know, however, are that we apparently have an ongoing war with Finish Line across the way and that girls are very attracted to candy store workers. At least that's what Toy said. They'll come in and buy, like, one gummi bear just so's they can flirt with you. Dunno, though - maybe he's just a playa. Moving on... so when the girl is in the back, Toy goes, "So, you smoke weed, man?" And I'm like, "Naw, man, I don't." And he's like, "Naw, man! Yes, you do!" Do I really come off as the type? I guess so, because he won't listen to me otherwise. "So, who you get your grim from, man?" "No, seriously, dude - I really don't smoke it." "Ha, yeah, right - Well, I've got your back from now on, aight?" First impression is that this job will lead to a lot more stories, and that's all that really matters, right?

I intended to sleep so long ago, but I was roped into watching Cheaper By the Dozen on the grounds that it was a warm family comedy, etc, etc. Have you actually seen that shit? It seemed so much more like a drama to me. Like, I guess there was some physical humor, but that just seemed to offset the fact that the family was so dysfunctional. No one was happy in it, at the start, in the middle, or at the end. All so mopey and unfulfilled. And the judging neighbor family didn't learn a lesson (although Beans got smashed up). I bet I'm thinking too much, though. It's too late for these sort of thoughts.

Have you seen the Lindsay Lohan nipple slip pictures? God, her breasts are so massive and freckled. Where hast thou gone wrong, O lord?