anonymouse

When I got out of bed today, I could not breathe through my nose. I have a cold. Vicks Dayquil seems to do the trick for the most part, but my head feels all disconnected. Also, the package totally lies. It's not non-drowsy. I keep nodding off at around 11 pm, and I subsequently wake up fully-clothed on the couch in the den at around 8 am. That's annoying, especially since it's Spring Break. I've had to cancel a lot of my plans, and some people have come over to give me chocolates and to tell me to not cough on them.

After the Vicks started to work its magic, I went out for a morning bike ride. I saw another Bellsouth DSL van. I asked the guy working if they have DSL in our area, because I called the other day and was told they didn't. But, hey, I see DSL trucks within a one or two block radius of my house, and I'm thinking you might. He said the records are all messed up, but if I call and tell them my neighbors have service, they might relent. My mom plans on harrassing these Fast Access folks until they break. She starts Monday, when they'll be busy and more likely to snap. I continued my bike ride, and I stopped for a breather by the house with a dozen kitties. A sweet orange tabby came up and rubbed my legs, and I patted her. The cats are all clean and well-fed, so that probably means they're being taken care of. Then a pretty grey cat came over, and I patted her, too. Soon enough, a huge black and white long-hair cat that may or may not be a Maine Coon came over and started biting the orange kitty, and I was all, "Hey, don't fight, that's not cool." I quickly realized that the Maine Coon was not fighting, it was raping. The orange cat tried to get away, and I would've interfered, but I didn't want to get hurt. Aw. I feel bad.

When I got home, I showered and washed my face with Clearasil stuff. I'm pre-menstrual and have little pimples dotting my face here and there. If pimples could talk, they would be mocking me, all, "Ha HA! [my pimples would sound like Nelson Muntz] You can't pop us!" I never got pimples until I graduated from high school. It's like my body is intentionally making fun of me.

You know, I may not know a whole heck of a lot about fiberoptics and cable and modems, but I do know that Adelphia is bullshitting me. Regardless of what you do to attempt to get the external modem working, it will not connect from around 8 am - 6 pm, but it works fine from 6 pm - 8 am. I don't understand how a low signal would cause that. Their excuses don't make sense. I hear good things about Bellsouth DSL tech support. Getting it isn't a certainty, and our only other option is a T-1 connection, so... We kind of really need that DSL since a T-1 connection isn't very affordable.

On my way to school, I popped in my Appetite for Destruction tape and cranked the volume way the fuck up. I'm so glad I found that cassette. I'm surprised it's lasted all these years. I've had it since I was a single-digit age. There was this asshole tailgating me. I saw him in my rearview mirror, and he had a decal on his window that read, "NO FAT CHICKS... CAR WILL DRAG." It was a ugly, old, rusty, red honda, and its chassis was practically on the ground -- maybe an inch or so up. I'm not sure what kind of Honda it was, but it was one of those cars that doesn't have a trunk, like those ugly Ford Fuckus ZX3s. He wanted to pass me, and "You're Crazy" was playing, so I was feeling a little wild. I floored the gas, flipped him the bird, and rocketed past him. I know it was kind of stupid, and he could've been a psycho, and he could've had a gun, and I could've died right there, but... He got stuck behind a station wagon. There's justice in the world.

Feeling giddy, I had the foresight to bring a loaf of stale bread to feed the birds at the campus's lake. I fed mallards, ibises, this weird dark blue bird that kept diving underwater, egrets, and those funny-looking red-beaked black duck things. Not the kind with the red puffy skin around the beaks, but these tiny little black ducks or birds with red beaks and red feathers between their eyes. They're neat. I left when some seagulls came swooping in. I think I'm afraid of them pooping on me. When we were little kids, my mom took my brother and I to swim at Matheson-Hammocks Park, and a seagull pooped on my brother's head. That was pure comedy gold. I laughed, and I laughed, and I continued to laugh after my brother yelled at me and told me that it wasn't funny, but, oh, it so was.

I get nostalgic when I feed ducks. I fed them all the time when I was a kid, and I know I mentioned this in previous journal entries, but I enjoyed it so much. Especially watching the little ducklings follow their mommies around. That was so cute. I'll tell you one thing, though: Swans are vicious creatures. When you're not looking, they will sneak up on you and WHACK YOU WITH THEIR BEAKS. It happened to me once when I was 12.

I kind of miss Snapper Creek sometimes. I mean, it was in a bad part of Kendall, and there were robberies, and the walls were paper-thin, and you could hear your neighbors blasting reggae music 24 hours, and you could hear your big brother crying and screaming about how much he hated life, and everyone hates life when they're in junior high, but I liked the duckies.

Anyhow. I'm getting lots of reading done. I should be reading my abnormal psych, but I was feeling kind of down at the time, and when I saw that I had to get through a section on suicide, I tossed it aside and continued reading about the serial killer at the Chicago World's Fair Exposition. Yeah, that's a lot cheerier, right? Heh. I have a lot of non-fiction to read. Books about Lindbergh, the Memphis Three, the Great Circus Fire, and the Chicago World's Fair. I used to go this book club, but I stopped going when the members trashed non-fiction as inferior to fiction. Whatever. Non-fiction is fact. It is in no way escapist. It's not escaping from the real world. I enjoy non-fiction every now and then, and I'll read Proust if I feel like it, but pull your heads out of your asses. There is nothing wrong with non-fiction. It's important to read about history.

I'm renting movies to fill the hours in the day. Sweeps is over, so not a lot is on TV. Oh, but Six Feet Under is on tonight. I like Lauren Ambrose, and I like her character. I sometimes forget what it's like to not have anything to do, and I think I kind of like it. I shouldn't get used to it, though. I got through The Good Girl and Ringu. I made my mom watch Ringu with me, and she has my cold, so she wasn't scared of my germs, so she sat next to me on the couch when I asked her to in case I needed her to hold my hand. Sometimes I'm a big baby, but when my mom thought something scary was going to happen once during the movie, she grabbed my hand and said, "Well, you made me sit on the couch for a reason, right?" For whatever reason, I wasn't as spooked by this movie. I think it was the faces of the dead people. They looked kind of goofy to me. And another thing: in the American version, were the characters stupid enough to try to EMPTY A WELL??? I'm sorry, but that's stupid. It's stupidty multiplied by infinity ad infinitum. I was freaked out by Sadoko's eyes and hands, and her lurching figure. That was freaky. My god, here EYE behind her HAIR, JESUS. Freaky.

I watched The Good Girl this morning after my bike ride and shower. The library doesn't open 'til noon on Sundays, so I sat back and watched the movie with my cats. According to Blockbuster, this movie is a drama. I think Blockbuster got that wrong. It's a comedy, albeit a very dark one. It's about the stupid mistakes people make. It wasn't a bad movie, but I didn't really like Jennifer Aniston's character. I liked Zooey Deschanel's character, though. And John C. Reilly was cool, too. Oh, and the dog. "IN YOUR CORNER!" Ha.

I'm going to rent more DVDs after this. If any of you have skipped to the bottom to see what I say at the end, please recommend something good in the comments section. I still have to see 24 Hour Party People. I like Joy Division.