03/31/2005 - 8:29 a.m. | maybe this poop will help

I woke up today in a surprisingly good mood. Even checking my watch when I'm sure, when I know, that it has to be time for the second bell to ring, but nope - 8:18. Always 8:18. Everyday. And today I laughed. And, get this, I was actually empathic to a red-haired person. I was all like, "Man, it must be really hard to live your life living like that..." All because of the good mood. In spite of the odd clenching stomach pain, which in turn might have something to do with my horrible, horrible media ethics test shortly. Honestly, you'd think after taking one of these, I would have some idea of what to expect, but nope! He be all like, "Know these three names!" and the names do not exist anywhere in history as far as I can tell. And I try to follow his randomly-placed counterintuitive reading list, but there's no earthly way of knowing if I read the right things and then - what possible application could they have? I read about some newspaper guy who published a story about this former Ivy League student who ended up a murdered prostitute, and the book be all, "Should he publish this?" Well, it happened, didn't it? But apparently there are family considerations, and I don't really understand them at all, which makes me feel like a giant in ethics.

But I am digressing, so I'll continue.

Like I said, I am in a good mood, and counter to the D.J. chapter in Sideways Stories from Wayside School, you need a reason to be happy, never one to be pissed off. So what is my reason? Could it be I slept over three hours last night without having to down half a bottle of useless, useless melatonin? Or possiby the Icebomb I had last night. In case you've never experienced it, an Icebomb is a foul mixture of six or so different kinds of fruity vodka shots. No bullshit "mixer" or anything. Shelly owed me one, and since we were out on the mediocre-as-balls EWS labsitter barcrawl (I would not be paying $16 for a customized t-shirt with my user name on it), she was inclined to oblige. Also, I finally entered both KAMS and C.O.'s's's's's last night. So that hurdle has been crossed. KAMS was hilariously dead, so Spritz, Shelly, and I got up on the stage and danced crazily for a moment. The other one was chock full of easy beerslut goodness. Oh what a world I've been missing.

But no! It was not the alcohol that makes me happy! I am surprisingly unhungover, however, even if there is a mysterious skidmark on my sheets. Mud, I think. Yeah, mud. Doesn't smell like poo or vomit. Maybe it's that spring has been finally acting all spring-y! Maybe I have me some mad seasonal affective disorder, and the nice-ish weather is all it took to put me back in good spirits. Apparently the Classic Tan commericals were wrong. Unlike your dad, MARY (or whatever your name was), being shone in the face with a bunch of lightbulbss did not cure my funk. Although it did help to mask my ample supply of pimples. God bless them, I'm nearly 21! Everyone else is all done with puberty! Well. Except Kyle. His balls have not dropped yet. But Shelly still loves them, she says!

Other people this morning seemed happier, too. Well, not all of them, but enough. They were even a little chatty, and the one girl - "Ellen" (I know this because it is stitched into her backpack) - gave me a box of Girl Scout cookies! And they aren't even peanut butter or anything! If that isn't agape I don't know what is! Ethics test, A+!