05/10/2005 - 3:27 p.m. | this entry is neither here nor there

Before I get around to the larger entry that is this weekend, I've got more than a few non-sequiturs I need to toss aside before I feel validated.

I'm done with 4 of 5 finals right now, and I have a pretty solid average (3 of those) for picking the absolute worse person to sit next to at each of them. This stuff wasn't bothering me too much before, but I assume since I've let some of the crazy back in, I will encounter more and more little things like this. Anyway, I should always look at my first instinct when it comes to seat selection and then move to the exact opposite corner of the room. At my child psych final, I knew it was trouble when the guy sat down and started drumming (practically punching) his desk waiting for the scantrons to be handed out. He then proceeded to spend the entirety of the test taking huge big snorts of his snot every 15 seconds. I couldn't focus, man; words began to lose meaning, my vision would fade in and out, and all I could do was count seconds until the next giant sniff and clench my fists to subside the rage. I have no idea what I wrote on that one. At the media ethics final (a real treat in itself, by the way), I was next to some horrible fat goth girl with a huge metal bracelet on her writing hand, so it was just this grating SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE the whole fucking time. I *know* I did shitty on that one. Finally, today, I sat next to some creature who was, no really, an ogre. And maybe I could've ignored that he kept touching me with his feature or kind of groaning every couple of minutes, but the motherfucker smelled like ham, I kid you not, and I cannot think when I am surrounded by ham smell. It's just a rule I have.

I figure on Friday I will sit next to someone who just keeps thwacking me in the face every couple of seconds. A+ 100%!!!

My ultimate book purchase dodging trick came today when my attempts were foiled to grab a copy of the text from the bottom floor of the bookstore and then run up to the third floor and read it in some secretive corner. Instead, I ran to a computer and told my TA that my textbook had been stolen ("by profiteering book whores who try to screw out of every damn dime I have, such that I will never, ever buy a book from them again," he says in parentheses in his head) and asked if maybe I could borrow a copy from her just for a few hours. She said yes, and I was all fucking set, eating my weird vending machine cookies that tasted like mint. Time constraints don't mean nothin' when you can cram it all in in a matter of hours.

I've never seen these things before (maybe because they only work for like a day), but all these little green pod things fell out of the trees today, and when you step on them, they make a pretty loud pop that cheers me up.

Since I'm sort of a cretin, I misplaced the one mechanical pencil I had on hand and had to run to Walgreens to get a replacement. I was all set to buy those ones where it has ready-sharpened tips and you can push them to the front by taking one tip out and putting it in the back (confusing) when I saw a gimmick. And fuck if I don't love gimmicks, guys! See, it was a liquid graphite pencil! Writes just like a pencil, but oh, it has to be smoother because it is liquid! No more clicking or breaking lead or running out at inopportune times! Still, I was a little unsure until I read on the package that it was "perfect for standardized tests!" Sold!

Fucking thing is a piece of shit. It hardly writes at all, and when it does, it's all choppy and gross-looking and you usually have to go over it several times. And you sure as fuck can't erase it! So when I was taking my test with that fucker today I had to sketch in the bubbles like I was doing brain surgery. This is not the time-saving device I had envisioned.

I was further intrigued, however, by the anti-microbial pens they have done at the bank. It's a good idea, I guess, because lord knows what mutants are rubbing their snot and meses all over my Papermate there, but the internet has revealed little of the actual technology involved. Maybe it's just the fact that the pen says "anti-microbial" on it. Microbes be all seein' it and go, "Damn, fellas, we ain't allowed around here." 'cause they can read, you bitch.

I've decided that since the idea of people lying out on the quad makes me so uncomfortable (maybe it is the idea of seeing pretty girls, but I am a very, very harsh judge of beauty and can usually find something wrong with just about everyone, so I dunno about that), I am going to try and do the same for others by sunbathing up on the Engineering Quad. Wearing the skimpiest Speedo possible. Let's see how you nerds handle that, huh?!

I think I made Cute Babysitter Chick jealous by bringing Missy to cross the guard with me the last time she was there. As such, she is trying to incite jealousy in return by bringing some manfellow of her own. He is like 7 feet tall, pale as fuck, with a huge curly red 'fro and a tightass too-small polo shirt, and they were being all rowdy together and whatnot with the chick's charges. I really don't know whether to be amused or insulted here.

I had to skip out on my last two days of work - oops. And then I was sitting next to this guy in my community psych class, and he was the most outloud paranoid person I have ever met. He hadn't been to class in like three weeks and was so scared of turning his shit in or being seen at all by the TA's, and I was like, "Shit, man, I have some pills in my room you could borrow." He's strangely vocal about it, though. I used to think the same things, but mostly I would mull them over in my head and then do what I had to do without discussion. I don't know what to call him.

I want to buy another used Polaroid camera, the fancy business professional kind. Maybe that will be my thing - like Brendan Fraser!

It would appear Spritz has a mild case of death or something. He's had this numbness in his hands for a while, and he's maybe having trouble using them, so he's at the hospital right now having tests run. They think it's probably just poor circulation, but there's a chance it might be M.S. I am more of the opinion that it is karma. In the meantime, we've had strange visits from his relatives - grandparents pounding up the yard and now his mom is staying here, and that is not good because of all of the people in the entire world, I think Spritz's mom makes me more uncomfortable than anyone. I don't know why that is, but I have so much trouble talking around her... and I'm not all that good at listening to her either. She said we are going to be "roomies" for a while and has been cleaning a lot, which means I shall have to be trashed from just about here on out.

Addendum: OMG SO UNNERVING She walks up out of nowhere, "Having fun?" like I am maybe a sinner or something and then starts talking about the furnace filters, starts talking about them like we were continuing a conversation we had started earlier. "Yeah, you can get two of the washable kind and have one in while the other dries." Meanwhile, I try to not look like this: :0 WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON I DO NOT LIKE GROWNUPS HERE INTERCEPTING MY SPACE GONNA START LOCKING MY DOOR AT NIGHT LOCKING MY DOOR AND PUTTING A CINDER BLOCK IN FRONT OF IT OH GOD

I've started on a ridiculously complex hygiene regimen as of late. Kyle and Shelly and I went to Wal-mart yesterday, and since, for the first time in forever I had more than, uh, none dollars, I bought some fixer-uppers for the old Nathan. (Not enough $$ yet for the $300 10' high inflatable water slide or the hilarious bumper boat which I would spin around in in one of those kiddie pools, spraying people who walked by with the accompanying 20 foot water blaster!!) Got some tooth whitener junk as well as some "Tag" body spray as recommended by Shelly, but it is sort of complicated in that, even though the can has the curvy outline of a young woman on it (and we all knows I loves the curvy young women!), it does not actually portray itself as a deodorant or antiperspirant, merely a body spray. So, while I can soak my crotch down good and proper, to combat my paranoid fears about smell, I bought a stick of Sure Unscented to apply before liberally soaking my pits with the spray. This is needlessly difficult, and who am I kidding? I do not expect to be pulling any mad honeys as a result of this. In fact, any fears Melissa might have about me leaving her ever should well be combated by the fact that, if I were ever to go single, it would just be nugget upon nugget upon nugget for me, and fuck it all if I don't hate nuggets. I need to buy a big bottle of pills with ego in them, I think.

I am also looking for an alleged product named "Colon Blast!" There are similar products out there that would have the same awful, awful effects, I'm sure, but until I find one with that particular name, I do believe I will opt out.