07/18/2004 - 6:40 p.m. | friendly

Wow, I really haven't written since Wednesday? Gah, I feel like such a slacker. Or an alcoholic, can't remember which (for obvious reasons). Long story short, my life was once again becoming the dreaded work-sleep cycle that I have had to face for the past three summers (and which grownups have to face everyday, poor fools). There were some moments of happiness - Sopranos at Yousaf's and my growing misogyny and the uneasy feeling that I am growing comfortable with this arrangement. And IHOP! I had some oatmeal! Er - back to the second (third?) to last one. Dunno what's up with that, but my already ridiculously high standards seem to be only peaking - to the point where even a cute tummy or a pair of legs [so astounding that no fetishist should be able to see them without drooling] just are not interesting me anymore, even theoretically. Kyle says he misses the old Nate. Where have we heard that before? Maybe I think it's some sort of reverse psychology strategem. That is a stupid plan there, fellows.

Other thoughts along these lines? Someone signed my guestbook the other day, praising me for my "random unsolicited harshness to females." Oh, good. There is a sign that I am healthy. I should probably just go the normal route and only secretly think women are crap and just try and bed as many of them as I can. But I digress. Tucker Max on a friend: "[He] usually chooses the funny joke over the smart play. And this folks, is why he gets no pussy. Well... that, and he has no confidence in his game, thinks all women are cheating sluts, and is scared of emotional commitment." But why do we review this again? I like talking about these things. I think they are fun.

I am sad that I missed out on rock climbing with Kyle, his brother, and Spritz last week. I am also sad that I upset my mom with the things I said, even if I don't know how to put them any nicer. I am sad on the nights when I come home and no one is around and I read until I fall asleep all cockeyed on my bed because I refuse to remove the pile of stuff that is on 2/3 of it. I am sad about... other things sometimes, but they seem so far spread and chaotic that I can't even describe them to myself, let alone you. I know, I know - emo - but let me be for a second. I was at the candy store the other day, and it was during one of the crowded cycles, so I was ringing up a lot of people in succession, and I was being all nice and happy to them on the outside, but on the inside, it was like, "Wow. I think I am pretty down. Is this what I'm doing with myself? What's going on?" I snapped out of it not too long after - I always do - but it was like the confusion was dwarfing the sadness. I didn't get why I was feeling that way. And other times I feel so resigned, I guess? Like, this is my kind of boring existence, and I don't think it's going to get a whole lot better without help, so you either have to get used to it or make some serious character and/or life changes.

Jane is a shitty manager, I'm starting to think. I mean, besides the fact that her laugh is poison. For one thing, she is almost hilariously racist. Does she know this? Does she think she is hiding it effectively? But, let's see... a month or so after she has started, both Toy and Chikondi are gone, for various sorts of dodgy reasons. And while I may be annoyed by certain types of black customers, they always get the benefit of the doubt from me, and I've met some cool people because of that. Jane suspects anyone with dark skin as soon as the come in the store and follows them like a hawk. So, there's that. And then, to replace the two people she has gotten rid of, she hires this one girl, Angie, who I think was one of her daughter's friends, and was treating her like she was the Golden Child of Inside Scoop or something. Or she was until about 10 o'clock Friday morning when Jane called me up to tell me that Angie had "been forced to leave" and that suddenly there were all these hours to take from her. And that's how my 5 hour shift at Hot Topic became a 10 hour mall extravagaanza.

Hot Topic has started to grow on me in its own strange little way. The people there are all very nice, even if they try a little to hard to be in character. I am in love with both Jens, and I would like both of them to fall in love with me. Thank you. Also, because I am still a peon there, I don't have to do very much, just scanning and sorting and being friendly. Much more laid back than the Buckle; the place generates its own sales. I think I like retail a lot, and even if I am sort of sick of all the hours, I'm never really tired of the jobs. I also have started a mental short list of things there that I want to buy... out of some sort of twisted, broken irony. I hope. Besides the fact that my nametag needs some hardcore flare soon, or I shall be flogged. And they respect my faggy homemade t-shirts, unlike all of you bitches. I assume that about you, I mean. God I'm tired.

Why Jane sucks (some more): Part of the reason why I took the extra hours on Friday night was because Jane used a guilt trip on me, how it was her birthday, and how she wouldn't be able to go on vacation if I didn't. Fine, I don't want to ruin your vacation. However, I did not at the time know that on Monday one of the two heads of the company would be coming in and that getting the store ready for them was now more or less on my head. Despite the fact that Jane keeps an extensive "communication book" for us (with such helpful advice as "Sell more" and "Fun is contagious!"), she occasionally forgets to communicate things like, "I am leaving, the bosses are coming, and the store is a shitheap. Good luck!!" I am listing myself as assistant manager on all resumes henceforth.

Jane did, however, leave us with one clear chore: This massive box of wax bottles that had to be sorted and put into little bags, which in turn had to be tied and cut off so that they looked all cute. 2 hours this took us. The wiccan and albino came in, the latter with a haircut and newly-crimped hair. Ay yi yi, the law should put a ban on crimping. I think this is the part of the grand flirtation where I am supposed to make my move for one of them. Let's hope they don't asphyxiate. Meanwhile, candy store Jen is hopefully not making moves on me because while I have grown infinitely more fond of her lately, I am not that fond. Anyway, she asked me to go see I-Robot with her, and those are at least plans, so I went, hoping there would be no wrong signals. One does get massive points for suggesting that we go to Wendy's beforehand, however, and smuggling in various items from the 99 cent menu. I will never get tired of eating inappropriate items in the theatre. Never never never.

The movie was highly mediocre. Will Smith didn't showboat or rap nearly enough in this one, and while everyone thinks I sound dumb I bet, I really didn't understand the logic of the robots even once they blatantly spelled it out for me. And then I missed yelling, "GET OFF MY CAR" by like half a step because Jen was whispering to me about when I thought it was coming up. So some points off there. Sorry, dude. A real fan would have known! Later, she dropped me off at my car, and I more or less just sprinted out because awkward silences can lead to awkward happenings, if you know what I mean. And then it was just boredom again. Maybe I should stay and make out just to pass the time.

Everyone says I am cuter than I think and that if I had confidence, things could probably happen, like I could be a bartender or meet pretty girls. I say they are all liars. Lies lies liars.

I am so tired. Happier entry later.