I Started So Well

3:51 p.m.

Pauly Shore is Jewish? I had no idea. Mazel Tov, buuuuuuddy.

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Man, guys, I have that swollen node thing going on. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about.

But no, seriously, I've got swollen lymphs. They're not majorly swollen, but they are swollen enough to make my throat sort of tight and swallowing a real pain in the ass. Joe says that I have mono. Which one of you people gave me mono? Was it you?

You son of a bitch.

Since the only time I hear about mono involves kissing, and I haven't exactly been engaging in long make-out sessions (recently, anyway...heh heh), I turned to my friend Mr. Interweb to help me figure out just what could be the cause of all this hooplah.

Mr. Interweb says I drank after somebody with a filthy node disease. He says that somebody with TAINTED MUCUS offered me a drink and I accepted. He says I should take responsibility for my jungle rot because that leads to empowerment.

Fuck you, Mr. Interweb. My water tastes like sawdust, you donkey-fucking whore. That's not my fault.

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I would like to take this moment to announce that Lynnda from Idiot-Milk and I are totally boyfriend and girlfriend now. Not because of any inner feelings we might possibly have for each other. But because we know that by combining our forces we'll be an unstoppable Diaryland Power Couple. Ben and Jennifer have nothing on this.

I only hope that we'll be able to avoid all the paparazzi when we go out to get ice cream in our t-shirts with each other's faces screen-printed on them. We may have to up security a little bit.

I also hope that nobody finds out about all the weird shit that goes on in our mansion after we send the help home for the day. I'm not saying that anything goes down. But if it did, it would be pretty fucking weird.

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And yes, if nobody's noticed it by now, I put a stupid counter on my page. It's over there, on the left. I just did it last night. I always told myself I'd never mess with that. "I'm just in this for love of the craft," I'd say to myself. "Not because I want to win an award. Or have tons of people visit me. I'm not a fame whore."

I'm a whore. I'm a total whore. As a matter of fact, Lynnda bought me. And I was cheap, too. Like, not even three cookies. It only took two. And they were old and stale and probably came from her couch cushions.

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I finally switched off of AOL Instant Messenger. But only because AOL did everything in their power to make me.

You know those little ad banners at the top of your buddy list window? They have ads with sound and noise, now. And I get them all the time. It's ridiculous. I'm sitting here listening to music, and all of the sudden some guy starts saying, "I just couldn't find a job. That's why I turned to blah blah..." and I'm wondering what sad fuck decided to tell me his life story. I don't care, asshole. I don't know you, and I'm sure as hell not going to buy you a drink.

I also got movie ads a lot. I hated it when I'd be having a perfectly calm day when suddenly Russel Crowe is screaming about "Turning hard to the starboard bow!" for a Master and Commander advertisement. I get all excited and freaked out and I'm going, "Jesus, is that left or right?! Left or right?! We're all going to diiiiieeee!"

So now I use Trillian for my messaging needs. It's a decent little program except for the fact that I can't see links in anyone's profiles and sometimes it kicks me in the balls. But overall I guess I'd rather have a foot lodged in my junk than Russel Crowe and some drunken hobo talking to me.

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In other news, I have a new mouse, and it isn't a trackball. This is rather big for me. You see, I've been using trackballs for like six or seven years. The fact that I've finally switched to a regular mouse is huge. And I'm not saying I'll stay with it. But my old mouse was really acting up, so it was definitely time for a new one.

Old Mouse

New Mouse

Yeah, basically the same thing.

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I'm happy that Traci has found a happy place for her to reside in. Reading over this entry, I was struck by a few things:

[1] I'm doing terrible in my classes. This semester I'm going to bring home a D for the first time. Also, two Cs will be riding in majestically on that D's coattails. I'm not stupid, I just don't care. I already decided that I have no intention of using this degree for any of its intended purposes, so it's been nigh impossible for me to get revved up about my business classes. The only class I'm doing well in is English.

[2] I haven't been in a relationship in about a year now. I'm starting to not care about that, too.

[3] My parents are either kind of upset with me or just worried that I've completely lost all direction.

[4] I have no job, nor anything lined up.

[5] I've regained some of the weight that I lost.

Regardless of the outcome, I'm going to be so happy when this semester is over, I swear.

Listening To: Origa - Inner Universe, Spirited Away Soundtrack - Dragon Boy

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