December 5, 2002 (1:42am): I think the winter is a lonely time. For everyone, I mean. Something biological just makes us need to be with others more than in the summer. It's very inconvenient.
So I got back from Chicago Monday night. That was a fun trip. Really fun. It's always very nice to be away from anything remotely familiar. I'm not so fond of being myself, and being away from things I see and things I do helps facilitate a feeling of unattachment.
Anyway, any trip that winds down with you singing karaoke whilst drunk and among people you barely know: Good trip.
December 6, 2002 (4:17pm): Na na na na, hey Jude.
I haven't shaven in six days, and it's really starting to itch. But I figure, no one's gonna see how terrible it looks, except my parents, and what do they care anyway, so just let it go. It complements my long, unkempt, Unabomber-ish hair, so maybe I can frighten some happy little children this jolly holiday season.
Big stupid holiday season.
I hate that, being atheist, I kinda have to just grin and bear all the yule-tide nonsense that's going on. Not that I'm anti-festivities or anything. But really, if you're seriously atheist, there's not much celebrating you can do on religious holidays. Hrm.
Like, when someone says "Merry Christmas", what do I do? Do I stop everything and say "Oh, um, that's not necessary?" That's kind of show-offish, like it's really bringing me agony and I have to address the issue immediately. Should I just give them a "Okay, whatever" look? That's not very polite.
So I usually just say "Happy holidays," but I don't really mean that. What do I care if their holidays are happy? They shouldn't have them in the first place, if you ask me, right?
December 7, 2002 (3:45pm): It's coming on Christmas, they're cutting down trees, they're putting up reindeer and singing songs of joy and peace...
There should be a place to go when you don't want to be anywhere.
December 11, 2002 (4:04pm): I had something good and pseudo-poetic to say last night, but I was too lazy to do anything. And now I can't remember. So I'm just sitting here, listening to Paul McCartney & Wings. Dammit.
Geez. McCartney just got poppish out of his mind after he quit the Beatles. Not that that's a bad thing. But I think he suffered from not having Harrison and Lennon around to tell him what's crap and what's not. He just had a buncha sycophants trying to deify him, and his ego overshadowed his artistic sense.
December 14, 2002 (3:18am): Ooh, look. It's the day after Friday the 13th. Watch as I stand blandly underwhelmed by the date.
Ahem.
Oh, I think I forgot to mention my trip to Chicago two weeks ago. That was a nice time. Fun. Really. Nothing bad about that trip.
I sang karaoke with the last guy in the world I thought I'd ever sing karaoke with, and I chattered for hours with the last person I ever thought I'd chatter for hours in a hotel room with. So. Plus plus.
And I saw a Great Lake. Dunno which one. But I saw it. About one hundred feet away, no less. Keen. If I hadn't been on my way to take a test, and if the weather hadn't been, like, 30F, I'd have walked right in.
Anyway. Can't remember if I said that or not before. If I did, then nevermind. If I didn't, then, well...okay too.
Wait. I just checked. I did mention it. But not the same stuff. Not really. Bah.
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December 20, 2002 (3:55am): You know, um... Hrm.
The thing is...
I mean...
Nevermind.
December 22, 2002 (3:12am): Curious. A song just started, and as soon as I heard it I was deluged with a flood of images and memories from my first summer at college. It nearly made me nauseous, this sudden abundance of things I'd long since forgotten.
And just as quickly, I couldn't remember anything. I'm just left feeling really, really sad.
This happens all the time.
December 22, 2002 (3:19am): And now, another thunderstorm.
December 25, 2002 (11:21pm): Dammit. Snow fell today.
December 27, 2002 (1:54am): You know, I was just making some scrambled eggs, and the smell of the eggs made me incredibly nauseous. I don't know why.
Hmm.
Anyway, they're made, but their scent is still repugnant, so they're just sitting in the kitchen, doing nothing.
December 28, 2002 (9:49pm): Well, as far as I can see, New Year's Eve is shaping up to be as forgettable as last year. No big surprise. But when you have to admit it...ugh. That's no fun at all.
December 30, 2002 (1:47am): Pfft.
I just ate the Crunch bar I bought in Ft. Wayne, Indiana. I think it was in Ft. Wayne. A rest area close to Ft. Wayne, Indiana, let's say.
It wasn't such a great chocolate bar. Just chocolate and puffed rice. Not very crunchy, either. Go figure.
This is the deepest thought I've had all day.
December 31, 2002 (8:30pm): I'm sitting here just singing along to Blonde On Blonde. I'm surprised I can type competently and sing at the same time. Odd.
Anyway, let's get this damn year over with already. And get on with 2003. But doesn't that seem like the most boring year possible? 2003? Bah.
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