June 1, 2002 (10:15pm): May has 31 days. Not just 30. Oh, the things I learn.
I got up around noon-thirty today. Brushed my teeth, washed my face, etc. Then I thought, "I wanna burn those Beatles collections CDs I whipped up, now while I'm thinking about it." So I sat down and got'em done, then I thought, "Hey, why not do the Bob Dylan ones, too..." Did those, moved on to just about every other major artist album groups. It's now into nighttime and I have very little to show for the day.
Actually, I meant to read some more of The Rape Of Nanking, which I started yesterday. The electricity was off for about eight hours so I had little else to do. I've come to realize that electricity equals meandering attention. It's too easy to mindlessly surf the Net or flip through TV channels. Why amuse myself, let some stranger do it.
June 3, 2002 (6:33pm): I read that NASA or some other space agency has found that the Milky Way has been, in a kind of random galactic drift, smashing apart star clusters. It's funny. I feel like I, as an inhabitant of the Milky Way, have stepped on a cat or something. Like I should apologize. "Pardon me, universal phenomenon coming through. Heads up!"
Har har har.
I mentioned this some time last summer, but central air is so wonderful. I could just sit on a vent all day long, it's so nice.
June 4, 2002 (4:43pm): I should start recording some half-assed stuff and make a record. You'd be surprised who would eagerly anticipate such an undertaking.
June 5, 2002 (11:22pm): Today has been awful from the get-go. The mean reds, you could say. The red meanies.
Ugh.
I feel like I woke up in the midst of someone else's career, with all the requisite information and daily skills entirely absent from my head. I can't remember clearly any plans I had made for myself, I can't think of a damn thing. Little jobs and goals are hurriedly blurred together, and I'm all too eager to throw my hands up and forget the whole thing.
I have a headache and I really, really, really want to sock someone in the head.
And I want some scrambled eggs. Hrm.
June 6, 2002 (11:25pm): I got this cut on the inside of my cheek somehow. It really stings. It'll go away. Next time I should try not to bite my own cheek.
Someone else's cheek, maybe...
June 8, 2002 (12:06am): Did you ever see a robin when leaves being to die, that means he's lost the will to live, I'm so lonesome that I could cry.
Man, sometimes I just don't know what's going on. I'm sick as hell, I haven't eaten much (there's nothing here to eat), and I don't even wanna talk to anybody.
Sometimes I don't know if I'd rather never sleep or never wake up. Ups and downs, I'm getting pretty tired of it.
June 9, 2002 (11:08pm): I hate being someone who has so many things to watch on television. And it's not really even stuff I desperately want to see. It's just like, "Oh, that might be interesting. Okay... Just a few minutes."
It takes me forever to read a book. And even then the book has to be very, very good. I have no imagination.
I never daydream. And that's truly unfortunate, I think. I just avoid it at every measure. This is probably why I don't have an imagination. And why I don't have many tangible goals. But daydreaming... It just seems too... I dunno, foolish. It's nice, and I can see why most people do, but I think I'm just a lost cause.
June 11, 2002 (12:18am): I ate a lot of peanut butter-filled pretzels today. Mmm. They had salt on them as well.
Hrm. I regret that I have nothing more important to say, or at least nothing more important I would like to say. I don't feel like saying anything. There's nothing to capture or preserve.
And I don't mean that in a self-annihilistic way. I'm not tearing down what there is. I'm just saying, what's here ain't much to get excited about. So to speak.
June 12, 2002 (10:56pm): Yes, I do believe being worth $150 million would give me some elbow room.
I just ate some Funyuns and grape soda, and I don't think it's agreeing with me.
I don't like money. Wait. I've said that before, I think. Still. It bears repeating. I don't. I don't, I don't, I most certainly do not enjoy money. Sure, it can do some stuff for me, and I get some neat little toys. But ultimately, what can it do but buy things to take away pieces of myself? Think about it: If it's not a book or a record, it's not really giving me anything new. Books contain ideas, songs are escapist in nature. Anything else, I can't really figure out.
It's hard to explain. And even more perplexing are those who will read this, firm in their capitalistic joygasms, and think I'm full of shit. Sure. I make money and I spend money on things I like. I buy yummy food. I buy alcohol and stuff to...well, to whatever. But really, it's only 'cause I'm in a place or with others who encourage a certain style that necessitates a money exchange just to get along. What, should I reject movies, thereby closing a means by which to relate to friends? Should I live on Quaker Oats and tap water, turning my back on simple joys like salty pizza grease and a full stomach?
At any rate... It's the wanting of money and the fueling of a certain degree of affluence that just doesn't work for me. That's what I'm saying. Please, no corny lines like, "Well, gee, you do the work and just give me the money, if it bothers you so much." That's the precise something-for-nothing mindset that I'm talking about.
June 14, 2002 (2:03am): Some commercial was just advertising the "most mouth-watering water ever." Hmm.
Anyway... Oh cripes. I hate packing up stuff. I do it too often, too. I should just have nothing. No, I take that back. I do like my stuff, though I chide myself from time to time for such sentiment.
It's too humid in here. It makes me feel all stanky, like I've got sweat all over me. My own sweat, too, not someone else's. That might be okay, due to implicative situations.
June 16, 2002 (12:21am): I just finished splitting up an old radio broadcast of It's A Wonderful Life. Was tedious work, but I'd rather have twenty four-minute chapters than one solid hour-long file.
Today is Adam's birthday, which I remember every year for no reason at all. Just one of those dates that won't go away. I'm not saying it's not worth remembering, but I don't see him remembering my birthday, right?
Alright. I must go steal music from online. Bwa. Ha. Ha. I am devious.
June 16, 2002 (9:45pm): Would I support military action against Sadam Hussein and the Iraqi military? CNN asked me.
Well, I'm not sure. There are reasons both to assault and not assault. First, Hussein is openly encouraging and sponsoring terrorist activities against the US. He's also promoting chemical and biological warfare proliferation.
But, I'm not sure what the results of war would be. Increased domestic terrorism? Certainly. A morass like that of the Vietnam War? Maybe, since the combat would hardly be restricted to Iraq; the whole Middle East would try weighing in.
Oh my. What to do, what to do...
June 17, 2002 (6:15pm): La la la, getting ready to go back to school. Eagerly anticipating so, too. Which is odd, 'cause as soon as I get there I'll not want to be there. But this is to be true of anyplace at anytime, so I'll never really know where to go. So I'll just settle for wherever has the most readily available food. And this, so sadly, is Salem.
June 18, 2002 (4:51pm): I've got one of those strange feelings of impending doom. Well, maybe not so much doom... Dread, perhaps, or just ill luck. Whatever it is, it's got me pissed.
And the damn webpages I'm trying to view aren't coming up. It's a normal thing, it happens all the time, but it can really ruin the afternoon.
I'm nowhere near as fun as I used to be. Not with this monitor, at least. Maybe once I get back in the swing of stuff, not sitting here in the countryside hating the trees.
June 20, 2002 (12:07am): Ate too much peanut butter filled pretzels again. Hrm. Damn temptation.
June 20, 2002 (5:14pm): I wanna leave the country.
That sounds stranger than I intended.
What I mean is, simply, I wanna travel. Which isn't that strange, now is it?
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June 21, 2002 (4:12pm): My sad little goatee has more than its share of blondish hairs, which is odd because I have ruddy brown hair.
Oh yes, this grave matter and more on the next episode of SCHLOMO DAILY MONITOR!!!
Butch says I should start the day by looking in the mirror and saying, "Have a nice day, Mike." Perhaps I should. But I never really say much in the bathroom. Or the bedroom, but that goes without saying. Har har har. But it's good advice. I may pass it along, but I doubt I'll follow it.
June 22, 2002 (3:14pm): So, let's check out today's headlines... The fifth in a string of bombings in Saville, Spain struck during European Union meetings; the Basque separatist group Euskadi Ta Askatanusa claimed responsibility...
President Bush ran three miles in a White House staff exercise rally, clocking in at 20 minute, 27 seconds (and it's good to know even the President could out-run my lazy ass)...
An earthquake measuring 6.3 struck Iran earlier today; at least 500 were killed... I still can't remember where Iran is on the map.
What's the point of all this news? Well, I've had Headline News on in the background for a few hours and I've heard the stories a thousand times. Just thought I'd pass them along.
June 23, 2002 (12:15am): I've been eating more than my share these last few days. Hrm.
I mean, I've been really hungry, so I just eat whatever's in the cabinet. Hrm! My stomach is all round and stuff. Weird.
June 23, 2002 (4:31pm): You know, I forgot about Madagascar being a nation. An island nation, no less. Funny. It's just one of those things you don't think about. I mean, when I think of Africa, I never picture a little island jutting off the eastern coast. Hmm.
Kinda like Sugar Babies. The candy. I keep forgetting they exist. Actually, they may not exist. I've seen neither Sugar Babies nor Sugar Daddies in a long time. Maybe they just don't have'em in Salem. Next time I'm out I'll be sure to look.
But seriously... Madagascar? Heh.
June 24, 2002 (1:28am): Jehovah's Witness, leave me alone / Jehovah's Witness, I'm not at home...
Madagascar. Seriously. I forgot.
June 24, 2002 (4:56pm): I AM THE BUNNY MESSIAH! I GO HOP HOP HOP AND BRING YOU HOPE HOPE HOPE!
June 26, 2002 (12:46am): I really hate when the electricity is off. 'Cause it was off. Again. Today. For about eight hours. Grumble.
So I sat here tonight, not doing anything in particular. I sat...and sat...and sat...and sat some more...then my cat grabbed my foot...then I sat...
But now the power's back on and I'm tickled pink.
June 26, 2002 (7:49pm): So a San Francisco circuit court delcared that the Pledge Of Allegience is unconstitutional.
Okay, first I just gotta say that, yeah, it does seem a little silly. I mean, c'mon, it's the Pledge Of Allegience. I've known it longer than I've known how to tie my shoes.
But! I am a staunch supporter of separation of church and state (a phrase that's getting worn-out lately), and since there can be no compromise of morals in matters like this, I have to agree with the ruling.
I'm not about to get into the depths of the contradictory thoughts that is my noggin, so I'll just summarize by saying: Laws and liberties that do not apply to everyone in turn apply to no one. I and those like me who feel threatened by religious statements in governing content must be assuaged.
Simply put: Eisenhower and the Congress added the phrase "under God" to the Pledge in 1954. The Pledge did fine and was just as meaningful for 60 years before that. Just remove the phrase. I'll feel better, those like me will feel better, the Pledge will regain some credibility, and we can move on.
June 28, 2002 (2:51pm): I don't know what's worse: a slow 56kps connection or a plump and happy 11Mbs that blinks out every 30 seconds. I can't explain.
Anyway, I'm back in Salem, again, and...I dunno. I got a terrible headache after moving in yesterday, then I tried taking some aspirin without water. One pill is stuck in my throat, and it's really pissing me off.
I think I got a headache from anxiety. That's possible. 'Cause my family helped me move in and they were getting on my nerves (they're nice people, but I'm a nervy jerk). And it was really hot, and it started to rain, and a thousand other things, really. But if it's possible, I get readjustment anxiety. Who knows.
I don't know what to say. I hate where I am and I don't like where I was. But at least some patterns of behavior become expected, in time, and things get comfortable. I can't stand this readjustment shit. Yet it's gonna happen over and over and over...
June 28, 2002 (7:59pm): Nothing...to...do...
I'm just sitting here downloading some Eels songs from an FTP. AudioGalaxy went kaput recently, and the systems administrator doesn't allow file sharing programs before midnight, so my song-snatching resources have pretty well dried up. It stinks. Argh!
And I still have that aspirin stuck in my throat. What the hell!
June 28, 2002 (9:25pm): It really sucks that there's no one on campus. Maybe it'll pick up Monday. It is mod break, afterall. Hmm... Perhaps, perhaps.
I'm dying to order a pizza from Mario's. Mmm... But I don't wanna spend money right now. I only have about seventy bucks left, and I haven't restarted my work-study yet. Still. Mmm... Maybe tomorrow night.
June 28, 2002 (10:41pm): Good thing about being in Salem: I add more to this dinky monitor.
Bad thing about being in Salem: Pretty much everything else, right now.
I was just thinking, "I really want some Chinese! Yeah!" Then I realized that I have no chance of getting any Chinese. If I were in Roane County I could at least ask someone to run me into town for some. And eventually I'd get Chinese.
But right now... Nope. And it's not so much the being hungry that bothers me; it's simply knowing there's no way I can get what I want.
Try it sometime. Think of what you really want, and realize you're not gonna get it. It's. Not. Fun.
June 29, 2002 (2:06pm): I was hoping the cafeteria would have bacon for lunch today, and it did. Hotdog. Oh happy day.
June 30, 2002 (12:58am): I'm just sitting here humming along to John Lennon songs.
I really miss my goldish chair. It was comfortable.
June 30, 2002 (12:51pm): I don't know if I'll show up for English I tomorrow morning. I mean, I should take it, but I don't wanna have to get up that early.
Nah. I'll take it, I suppose. Can't have work-study if I don't have a class, and if I don't have a class I'll be stuck in my room all damn day. And that's certainly no fun, as this weekend hath shown.
Still. I'm not gonna have enough money for the books. Hope the library has copies on reserve. Heck, even if I did have money for the books I wouldn't pay for them. For classes like English, I'm not gonna shell out a fistful of cash for books I don't need. It's English, for crying out loud.
June 30, 2002 (5:25pm): There's some little "gangsta" next door. He's playing some cliche rap or techno or something really loud. It doesn't really bug me 'cause all I can hear is intermittent drum beats, but just the fact that he has no regard for anyone else...what a dick.
I should go kick his ass. He's shorter than me, skinnier, reminds me of Scrappy Doo. Just another little ghetto cliche.
June 30, 2002 (10:08pm): Okay, quick lesson learned tonight: Cheap cold medicine is made cheap by removing all the really fun stuff that makes you sleepy and funny-feeling.
Not a lesson to be taken lightly. What'd I learn? Just stick with alcohol.
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