it hurts when i do this

< February 21, 2003 >

Random thoughts. February 21, 2003 4:02 p.m. Rattling around in my head.

I was playing around on my friend's webcam the other night, and I got to see the wide range of bizarre facial expressions I make over the course of ten minutes. As a result, I have come to the conclusion that I look ridiculous most of the time. And I'm okay with that.

I'm growing my hair out. At least, that's my excuse for why it looks homeless and why I haven't gotten a haircut yet.

I was walking down the stairs at the library yesterday and it occurred to me as I was doing it that I should walk slowly and more dignified, the way Jane Pauley does on Dateline. Then I remembered that Jane Pauley is leaving her job in May and I felt sad, because I used to watch Dateline a lot, back when it used to be on five nights a week. Thus, I know a lot about tainted meat and the safest automobiles of the late 1990s. Not enough people know that about me.

I don't understand cheesecake. I like cheese on its own, and everyone knows I'm about some cake, but I just can't see putting the two together. It's like milkpie. That's doesn't exist, does it? Because that would really ruin my good example.

I've had writer's block for longer than I care to remember. The words just don't make sense anymore.

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I typed that with my head. Aren�t you proud of me?

Cynthia Tucker is my sworn enemy. How anyone can work their way up to editorial page editor at the Atlanta Journal-Constitution when their sole argument on every issue is simply "I'm black" is beyond me. This woman needs to take the giant chip off her shoulder, or, as Dolly Parton said in that movie Straight Talk, "Get down off the cross, honey. Somebody needs the wood." Heh. Remember Celebrity Deathmatch? Whatever happened to that show? Cynthia Tucker could go up against Dolly Parton. I'd laugh, if only because I'd never have to hear about how the war on Iraq is a threat to Cynthia Tucker's policies of reverse discrimination.

Music sucks now. Music used to be good, like, three or six years ago, but now it sucks. All I have left to look forward to is Ben Folds and oldies CDs.

I am tired of school. I don't want to go anymore. I've never had this problem before, at least not to this extent, but I have a hard time justifying getting out of bed in the morning. All I have to look forward to is...well, not much, and not worth mentioning. I am tired of school. Just let me graduate already.

I don't want to live at home anymore, either. I'm ready to move on, but I'm not ready to pay for shit. And if I could just have one thing (like a job) taking up a majority of my time, instead of two things (school and a job), that would be very good because then I'd have more time to focus on the things I want to do, like write and hang out with the coolest people on earth.

"I'm only pretty sure that I can't take any more. Before you take a swing, I wonder: what are we fighting for? When I say out loud, I want to get out of this, I wonder, is there anything I'm going to miss? How's it going to be when you don't know me? How's it going to be when you're sure I'm not there?" Remember that song?

My weather.com weather magnet has been yammering on about 'severe weather' all week, and aside from the rain, nothing much has happened. Sure, those kids died, but that was in Tennessee. I'm not in Tennessee, and I've never even heard of this 'river' that's supposedly 'flooding' in my county. Shut up, weather.com!

You have to admire people who can consistently write well. An engaging and entertaining story beats a boring-ass term paper/government essay any day.

I think my comment server may be broken. Remma said she left me a comment about last week's entry, but it didn't show up. Thus, I am giving everyone who hasn't ever commented on anything I've written the benefit of the doubt. It's not that no one wants to comment on anything I ever write, it's that the software is bad. Right?

I miss Fridays. Fridays used to be special. There would be donuts at school in the morning. I would get to watch TGiF that night. And later, after that, I discovered the late-night/early-morning party that is World News Now and its delightful "World News Polka," which entertained me for a good while. Now I just work on Friday nights, and the day is meaningless outside of the fact that there's no school the next day.

I like books.

A newspaper is not as hard to put together as it may look. The trick is getting everyone to do their job on time. The rest is easy, like a jigsaw puzzle; it's not hard, just tedious. But perhaps it's more necessary than a jigsaw puzzle. Maybe not.

Wing Chun is right. Carson Daly is a douchebag. And not to pimp or anything, but Glark designs some pretty cool T-shirts.

Ramen noodles don't totally suck.

Substitute teachers may claim to be "all about respect," but they tend to have control issues, and not with the classes they're teaching, within themselves. Weirdos.

411 is not helpful. Don't be lazy; carry a phone book around with you in your car. It's the only way to go. And the fact that it's automated at all is stupid, because the operator invariably has to intercede and make sure the listing is right, so why not just go to her right away? And why are operators always women? Isn't that a little sexist?

***

I can't believe it took me almost an hour to write this. One day soon, I hope to get back to writing regular columns with beginnings, middles, ends, and -- gasp! -- subject matter. Don't hold your breath.

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