Date: 2003-09-29
Time: 6:05 p.m.

dude, wendell fucking edwards just mailed me 'the art of spirited away'. just because he read in this fucking journal right here that I was having a shit week. and, erm, cuz I'm helping him piece together a computer from the internet. WENDELL FUCKING RULES. make no mistake. he is going STRAIGHT TO HEAVEN when he dies, which hopefully will be never. why don't you listen to all his hot fucking music right now so maybe you can see what I'm talking about. yessir.

and plus the book is of course beyond gorgeous. admittedly, I'm saying that cuz I'm a sucka for shit that's beyond gorgeous, but hey. the whole thing makes me want to puke with glee. also this past weekend laura gave me ridiculously delicious cheese, which I am in th e process of eating. aaaaand what else. I got 'the sopranos', seasons one through three, on dvd. aaaaaaand like a fistful of vicodin from home. yum.

I am, of course, taking a big fat STANDARDIZED TEST this saturday morn, which I need to get my study on for, so I sort of have to push all this incredibly fun/gorgeous/tasty/etc type shit to the side for now, and take practice exams, but hey at least I have a fantastic amount of metaphorical 'carrots' to dangle before my own metaphorical 'face' in doing this. yo.

in fact the only problems I now face are perception issues, see, cuz I do have a few not-good things going on, but they tend to make people all sorts of self-conscious when I bring them up. like, e.g., I just quit smoking. so when people ask me if I have/want a cigarette, I can't just be like "I quit", because they'll recoil in horror and feel bad about their own smoking, or maybe instantly reŽvaluate me as a traitor to their cause (which I ain't, really, I miss me some nicotine and I'm considerting just being addicted to inhalers or some such thing forever, but that's neither here nor there) but so yeah, I have to either make up some excuse or just not interface with them in the same social way. which I was enjoying, the interfacing, that is, yeah, so I'd rather not just fucking kick it, you know?

also my mom is sick, and that's no good for similar reasons, cuz if I tell people that they feel fucking OBLIGATED to be concerned, when in fact I would feel better about things if I could get by with not discussing it at all whatsoever. but then I also have this urge to share this information with people (as I just did, note, with you). what a filthy catch-22.

but yeah you should know: despite all circumstances, my mom can certifiably make better brisket than your mom. the tests are in. I'm sorry. deal with it.

yeah. but so it's pretty out, so I'm going to take this coffee I just got outside and drink it all up, while not smoking a cigarette. it'll be awesome. ok. talk to you later. love.