08/06/2004 - 11:41 a.m. | two weeks older getting colder

Once again, very little to update, but I'm sure that will still lead to four, five pages of material for you to read, you lucky dog. Two days ago, it was another funky fresh 9 something hour day at Hot Topic / Inside Scoop. Actually, I was only at the latter for like 2 hours, but Jen called me yesterday to let me know that that evening ten dollars had been missing from the drawer. Well, fuck. I'm not sure we even earned enough while I was there for there to be a ten in the drawer, but fuck it all if I won't be the prime suspect. Timing on these things sucks. And why has mint been tasting like strawberry lately? Fix that wiring, brain, old bean. And then there was the vast horror when Jane came in instead of Kara, and I was wearing jeans (which is a supposed no-no), so I had to do the elaborate tango of keeping my lower extremities hidden from her. Just enough time for me to run to the bank and stand in line with the screaming baby. I have a pretty fair gift at making screaming babies not scream for a bit. Like, this one was going batshit, and it looks over at me, and I give it this look like, "What? What's the big problem here?" I think my lack of concern unnerved it enough for it to shut up. Then again, perhaps I am giving babies too much credit. I ran over to Wal-mart really fast to get the cheapest watch possible and some hair junk because mine was already flopping out on me. An advisory: Don't put on hair gunk while trying to drive. You become this sticky crumb monster.

It was just me and Jen most of the day at Hot Topic. Fine by me, says Nate, as she is adorable and had on a little cat hoodie with actual ears on the hood. It was adorable; I kept making bargains with her to put it on. "Yeah, I'll go buy you lunch... Hood up while eating, though." [Pretty much now I want to attach little felt ears to everything I own.] I was quickly sent forth to Taco Bell where, intrigued by their exclusive tropical lime soft drink beverage, I began to realize my hatred for the human race. "It might be good," I thought. Yes, the one Mt. Dew product that doesn't suck a donkey's nuts - this is probably the time!! Anyway, my theory is that Taco Bell actually sent some people into Hell and asked around about what they had to drink. "Well, we've got this new lime thing. Why not bring it up to the surface?" But, seriously, it was so awful I enjoyed it.

Ever feel like... dunno... you're floating through life? Hmmm... I don't even know how I want to put this. But it's just that things start becoming weirdly automatic. What choice is there and all that? I fold shirts because they have become unfolding. I like packing boxes because of the organizing I get to do. I'm not even explaining this right. Forget it. It just feels like I keep ending up at places rather than purposely going there.

Wendy's takes credit cards now. We are all doomed. Kyle and I drove around for a while, yelling, "HIGHWAY TO HELL" (Just that line) at occasional passerby. Passersby? Then to Yousaf's to watch American Psycho, which was a fairly decent adaptation. Christian Bale did a good job, and the scenes were pretty much exactly as I pictured them. I mean, the movie was pretty pointless, but then, so was the book, and I guess that's supposed to be the point, not all things are resolved blah blah artfag. Gallo's Brown Bunny is supposed to going into limited release later this month in the US. I pretty much have to see it at a theatre - not because of the infamous oral sex scene at the end - but because it's pretty much supposed to be the worst movie ever. There is a real-time car washing scene in it. How can you not be interested?

I had a cup of wine while watching the season finale of "Ashlee" with Kyle. Then some more cups of wine while singing Matthew Sweet. Then some Skittles bubble gum, which was a lot better than I had predicted. My stupid mood ring is always right at the point where I can't tell if I'm happy or sad, and if I don't know that, how am I supposed to act? I had some late night inspiration while cleaning up my room a little bit. I get all this junk mail, right, credit card applications and coupons for baby toys and couches and shit. Normally, I just throw it away, but I was looking at a credit card envelope, and postage is free in the US. Additionally, there is no way to identify who sent what. Thought process. Thus, about ten minutes was spent stuffing junk mail into credit card envelopes and sending them off. good luck with that! And what can those bastards do?! Nothing. Eat it. Eat. It.

Yesterday was a day off. I was lost in a sea of too much time. I tanned and somehow floated over to Farm & Fleet where I felt the apparent compulsion to buy the following items: XTRA-LARGE bag of Doritos, "Pretty Ladies" automobile decals, and what is supposed to be a combination tennis racquet / bug zapper. Spritz and I have severe doubts that it will work, and I'm too sober to try hitting myself with it, but the packaging was very good. "Is it a sports racquet or a bug zapper? YES!" "Into racquet sports? Into leisure sports? Into hunting?"

I spent a good chunk of the rest of the day cleaning and packing up my room somewhat. All my boxes have melted wax on them because I am a moron. Ducky will be visiting soon, then Justin, then Shelly's party, then my birthday. And we may be getting a soda machine after all, all of which makes me pretty happy. My parents went to Ikea and got us some shit for the house, of which I am greatly appreciative. I spent most of the evening trying to make a reversible distressed t-shirt and not throw up, but apparently fabric ink is a lot more durable than I thought, so it just looks sort of dumb. My talent as an artist aside, I do like painting a lot. And the Fiery Furnaces are really good. Yes, Nate. Behind the times. I'm sort of running out of steam on this, aren't I? I went and got gyros and hot dogs with Yousaf and Kyle, and then we went to Dank's where I watched him play a baseball video game. Sometimes life is wretched like that.

My hair is now blue-black. Another thing I just floated into.