06/23/2004 - 1:44 a.m. | i assassin down the avenue

Look! I added a stupid poll to the top there! I know, writing comments to me is a hassle somewhere along the lines of, dunno, breathing, so I made easier for you. Now, when you frantically come check to see if I've written ("NOPE"), you can register your opinion on something I've pretty much already made my mind up on. I'll try to change it weekly, but I'm not sure I have that many things that I want your opinion for. Stupid America.

Speaking of that, my marketing test was amazingly easy. As planned, I lurched over to Parkland, bought the book, studied for 90 minutes, and got an A on the shit. I don't give credit to my own faculties here; I just like to think that educational standards at Parkland are so low that I could fart out a perfect on their tests. Despite my better judgment, I had a cup of vending machine coffee ("Striaght from the bowels of Hades!") which did little for my patience for the other hour and a half of class. Then I thought about how hip I was - unwashed for 2 days now, PPG hat, Japan parody shirt, expensive jeans, hippie flip flops. The girls should be all over me! Except they are gross, so I'm sort of pleased that they aren't. Along those same lines, Drunken Make-Out Girl just tried to double match with me on HotOrNot. Better let that one through, I think, if only for hilarious potential down the road.

I'm sitting here, squinting a bit and trying to figure out what I did with so much of the rest of the day. I basked in my filth for a while, made that poll, showered... Took a nap maybe. Read? God, I am a waste of a human being. Then again, I'm not playing Infantry, am I? The three of us were going out to dinner, and since I am still on my Kratiam Prik Thai Lard Kao kick, I suggested Thia. Again. We went to the new (??) place over on Main. I am trying very hard not to be a bitch here - the endless Toils and Suffering of Nate Walsh - but I wasn't very pleased. I just wanted my cheap fried beef dish, and instead I got this stir fry shit that I swear to God tasted like black licorice (CAC) that took tons longer and cost more and anger anger rage rage rage!

Since, like I said, I am so freaking poor and had just spent money that could have been put to better use, I came home and worked on job number, dunno, 7... 8? Writing letters of complaint to get free food. I drove to the grocery store to get business envelopes and a huge Hersey bar, the idea being that I would have a glass of (*sigh* box) wine or two while I wrote.

So apparently box wine ferments. Or there was LSD in the chocolate, I dunno Either way, I was knocked loopy for the rest of the evening. As always, my mental barriers remained firmly in place, hardly making any typos even as I sat here reeling through time and space. One of the nymphos said I was coming onto her, but mostly that's just sort of funny. "I'm coming over so's I can do you!" Another stroke of brilliance. One of them told me she had feelings for me?? LOLOLOL I kept collapsing on the bed for several minutes at a time and then making the unsteady lurch through the garbage on the floor back to the computer to respond to the most recent bout of IM's. I also started digging through old CDs and singing them hopefully not too loud. "Kid A" was in the CD player this morning. I hope I wasn't making all the spastic buzzes and blips too loudly. OK, I do sort of hope that.

I've been putting two and two together for a little while now, and I'm starting to come to a few conclusions. Would you like to know where I've been? Well, too bad. I'm telling you anyway. It started a while back when my mom said that I was never really very affectionate with anyone. That's the one. Then someone told me I have a very weird attitude about sex, how I think it's weird than anyone could ever take it seriously - any of it, I mean. Dancing, strippers, intercourse itself. It's all so... ridiculous in my mind that to be able to get through any of it, a person would have to be seriously deluded. I am vaguely aware that I am probably in the wrong here, but it certainly doesn't feel that way. Most of the time I just want to crack up. I guess you can't really think about it, you have to believe in some very dire way that reproduction is this hugely important thing. I don't have that. Finally, Shelly was commenting to me the other night... something about what I said about Kim and how I thought it was probably at that moment that I should have kissed her. She said that there was no right time for these things - you did it when you were feeling it. There again is the thing. I don't think I've ever felt it? I'm just wise enough in human interaction and cliches that I know when something should probably be going down, and I'm usually in the right... but I don't think I've ever felt it for myself. Shelly, in her tragically normal way, goes, "Too bad. It's fun." Thank you. I've been trying very hard to work out the implications of this, but I'm not completely sure on anything. Either I haven't found someone that I've actually felt enough for to have these feelings - which I don't think is right because I really did love Lisa - or I am really repressed in ways I can hardly begin to understand. I could say that I didn't have these impulses, but I think that would be arrogant of me. Everyone has this shit - to say that I didn't would imply that I was somehow superior (or inferior, if that's your opinion). It just worries me a little bit, you know? I was reading about serial killers, I think, and the basic idea I got from it was that, you know, everyone has their own fetishes, and they just have the unfortunate trend of getting off on torturing and killing people. I don't think I am one of those or anything, but what am I? I'm too self-conscious with too little self-esteem to ever... I dunno. I'm just confused. It's totally a Wilco "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" mood right now. On repeat.

It was a good thing I checked to make sure I didn't have work today, because I sure as hell did. Kind of sucks for all my carefully-made plans to get errands done - I'll get to that laundry someday - but I can hardly lay the blame on that. I was alone at work and if not grumpy, at least sort of distant. That happens, though. One of the spouts on the M&M's machine just broke off - God damn useless machines - which led to about an hour long ordeal for me and about 2 pounds of damaged teal M&M's that I got sick of right quick. To celebrate my eventual victory, I inflated a bunch of helium balloons and attached them to a stuffed lobster so that he was the Flying Death Crustacean. The hobby for the rest of the afternoon was launching him across the store so that he would ever-so-slowly descend on unsuspecting patrons. It was the funniest, most threatening thing in the world. Then I inhaled all of the helium until I got dizzy from the lack of oxygen. I also got into this strange philosophical argument with all of these black kids who wanted me to give them free shit. Usually I just tell them no, but today I actually tried to explain the logic behind it. Wasted breath, it seems, when their concerns come before all others. "So you see, if I did give everything out for free, we wouldn't make any money, so we couldn't buy any candy, so the store would close, and then I wouldn't be here for you to hassle for free candy..." Pause. "But you could just give it to us for free!" Yes, because you are the special black kids. Only you and about 300 others have come in asking me for free shit and then taking it when I'm not looking anyway. Old people are funny. "How much is this?" "Uh, 89 cents." "An arm and a leg?" I cleaned my room, slept, and now I'm going to sleep again. Sorry if I'm not interesting. Give it some time.

I am the number one result on Google for "nate walsh," so I'm sure at some point someone I didn't intend to show this to will stumble his or her way onto it. I have nothing more to say about that.