I'm taking a break from one of my two 10-page term papers due on the 29th to scribble down my frantic thoughts. The first paper is coming along nicely (8 pages so far, nearly on the 9th) and I'm almost on the mental track I had made for myself: get this first one done by the 15th or 16th, use the next week solid to write the second paper, go home for Thanksgiving and have a very intelligent friend edit them, incorporate the corrections and be done with it all.
Okay...weekend.
Friday: nothing much to remember because nothing happened. I think I was my friend for most of the night, just taking it easy, talking, going to Perkins. Unfortunately, he has these terribly annoying fits where he gets really depressed for no apparent reason. We had just made plans at Perkins for the last two weeks of the summer of '05 to travel to Fargo, Minneapolis, Cleveland or Cincinnati, maybe Pittsburgh, and eventually Detroit, going to baseball games along the way. Great plan, I'm excited for it. Then we get into the car, he takes AFI out of his cd player and inserts Jets to Brazil. Holy shit, what a tear jerker. KC gets off on this tangent that his life sucks and this album by JTB is "his life set to music with better words." Seriously, he pulls this shit like "my life is pathetic" every fucking day I see him. Nothing fucking makes him happy and it's really pissing me off that I have to try and make things better all the time. Sorry for the rant, he just gets tiring after a while.
Saturday:
Woke up at 3 in the afternoon. I had a great dream involving three suicidegirls. Nothing sexual happened, just kind of a "whoa, we know each other from somewhere." Posh was in it, and I think Stormy (but I have no reason why she would be in there, I don't think I've even looked at her page before the dream). Posh had a cat with her in the back seat of a station wagon. I recognized them as I came out of a Bed and Breakfast in a small Canadian town, or maybe it was a suburb. Whatever, it was great.
Later that night, as a sort of "spur of the moment with an idea that has been building up for a couple of years" I got my lip pierced. It was a coincidence that I ran into a couple old friends there getting some work done because I had lost contact with them when I was dating Megan. I felt shitty about kind of "ditching" them for her, but they were very nice to me at the parlor.
So yeah, the piercing stung like hell and the sound of it was gross (I swear I could hear my flesh ripping apart as he drove the needle through my lip) but I'm alright now. I went home and iced it for an hour...voila, no swelling. I have a bar right now and it sucks that it sticks out as much as it does. Perhaps sooner than later I'll go back and get a smaller bar.
That's it.
Hopefully Jamie will show up for class on a regular basis so I can make some sort of small talk with her that will ultimately lead up to some dating. Yeah, I'm a hopeless romantic.
Okay...weekend.
Friday: nothing much to remember because nothing happened. I think I was my friend for most of the night, just taking it easy, talking, going to Perkins. Unfortunately, he has these terribly annoying fits where he gets really depressed for no apparent reason. We had just made plans at Perkins for the last two weeks of the summer of '05 to travel to Fargo, Minneapolis, Cleveland or Cincinnati, maybe Pittsburgh, and eventually Detroit, going to baseball games along the way. Great plan, I'm excited for it. Then we get into the car, he takes AFI out of his cd player and inserts Jets to Brazil. Holy shit, what a tear jerker. KC gets off on this tangent that his life sucks and this album by JTB is "his life set to music with better words." Seriously, he pulls this shit like "my life is pathetic" every fucking day I see him. Nothing fucking makes him happy and it's really pissing me off that I have to try and make things better all the time. Sorry for the rant, he just gets tiring after a while.
Saturday:
Woke up at 3 in the afternoon. I had a great dream involving three suicidegirls. Nothing sexual happened, just kind of a "whoa, we know each other from somewhere." Posh was in it, and I think Stormy (but I have no reason why she would be in there, I don't think I've even looked at her page before the dream). Posh had a cat with her in the back seat of a station wagon. I recognized them as I came out of a Bed and Breakfast in a small Canadian town, or maybe it was a suburb. Whatever, it was great.
Later that night, as a sort of "spur of the moment with an idea that has been building up for a couple of years" I got my lip pierced. It was a coincidence that I ran into a couple old friends there getting some work done because I had lost contact with them when I was dating Megan. I felt shitty about kind of "ditching" them for her, but they were very nice to me at the parlor.
So yeah, the piercing stung like hell and the sound of it was gross (I swear I could hear my flesh ripping apart as he drove the needle through my lip) but I'm alright now. I went home and iced it for an hour...voila, no swelling. I have a bar right now and it sucks that it sticks out as much as it does. Perhaps sooner than later I'll go back and get a smaller bar.
That's it.
Hopefully Jamie will show up for class on a regular basis so I can make some sort of small talk with her that will ultimately lead up to some dating. Yeah, I'm a hopeless romantic.
Yeah, those whiny friends start getting on your nerves after a while until you break down and say, "DUDE! Stop being such a little BITCH!" My friend Shane would whine about chicks all the time and I just hated it. I'm actually glad I called him not too long ago and he was buying condoms with this chick he met. At least he's fucking something other than his hand.