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October 31, 2004
October 26, 2004
October 21, 2004 Tuesday: School; we know I don't like it. Literary magazine; what a stupid idea by me to join. A few too many creative minds in that room, if you know what I mean. Psychology; I'm tired of talking about college with her. Wednesday: School; it's around this time of week that we're informed of the eight tests we have on Friday. I say nine even though there are only seven periods because often times, we have a Spanish quiz and test in the same day. Book club; we have had one meeting for this, comprised of only two people, and it will only meet a few times a month, but I think I may like it. Thursday: School; it's around this time of week that we have to start studying, and it's around this time of week that I do not start studying because I don't think highly of it. Newspaper; I find it hard to believe that I have attended all but one of these meetings and still no one knows who I am. Granted, I don't speak, but really. I'm "head" of the freelance "department," which isn't even technically a department because it's a write-when-you-feel-like-it type deal, but I have the folder. They gave me the folder. They should know who I am. Band camp; at first these were okay, but now they are miserable. Some little asshole today firmly said no when I told him to just stand still and shut up for one second. I'm a section leader [hautboys]; you can't say that to me. Survivor and Apprentice; the only good part about Thursdays. Thursdays used to be my very favorite days. Friday: School; it's around this time of week I do poorly on tests. Friday night football games; at either North or South, we have to sit in the stands surrounded by assholes, perform our terrible terrible field show, and then go home and cry. At least, I do. Or I feel like I should. Saturday: Band camp; generally from 9 to 3 and always miserable. Band camps are sometimes followed by another band event, whether it be a parade, a jamboree, another game. I am guaranteed to get a sunburn every single time, and I'm always embarrassed by it by the time the school week rolls around again. Also, for those of you who insist that sunburns are okay because I'll just tan--up yours, no I won't. I'm getting whiter by the second. Sunday: A day of rest and relaxation as it is the Lord's day, except wait, I've got all that homework that I didn't do throughout the week, and a million history notes, and another test to study for, and by the time I finish, it's eight o'clock, time to watch the Simpsons and get to bed. And then what is there?
October 18, 2004
October 16, 2004 "I'm holding a duck." "Is it dead?" "It will be once I wring its neck." "So it's alive?" "Heck yes it's alive, what do you think." "Wait, so. You're holding a duck?" "I'm holding a duck." "How... how are you holding a duck?" "I don't know, I've just got a duck in my hands." "Where's he from?" "He's mine." "No he's not." "Yes he is. I have a duck." "You do not have a duck!" "Yes I do, he's my pet. I never told you about him?" "Who's ever heard of having a duck for a pet?" "I have tons of animals, why wouldn't I have a duck?" "Because no one has ducks!" "Lauren! He is my pet! I'm holding him in my hands! His name is Jake!" "Jake!" "Jake!" "Fine, where you do keep him?" "He lives in the backyard." "...You do not have a duck." "Yes I do." "No you don't." "Yes I do." "...No you don't!" "Then what am I holding in my hands?" "But you've never mentioned him before! I've never even seen pictures!" "Who takes pictures of ducks? He's boring, of course I don't talk about him. He's just a duck." "You don't." "I do." "He lives in the backyard?" "Yes." "Where does he live?" "In the backyard." "But. Where does he go in the winter?" "I don't know. He flies away. But he comes back." "Where... why did you get a duck?" "Well, I mean, he's not really mine. He just comes in my backyard all the time, and we feed him, so he comes back. So he practically is mine." "And you're holding him right now?" "Yes." "Are you inside?" "Lauren." "I never knew you--" "Lauren. I don't have a duck." "What?" "I don't have a duck." She hung up.
October 13, 2004 Coming home, entering the garage: New dog. It should be noted that I was just walking into my house and suddenly there's this little weiner hanging off my shirt sleeve, and then Eric the repairman said, "That's Cooper," and that is why dachshunds are adorable. Exiting the kitchen, almost in the hallway by the basement door: Nostalgia. It should be noted that I am labeling it that because the smell only lasted for less than a second and then it was gone, but that for less than a second I was around the age eleven. In the kitchen, living room, hallway, and upstairs bathroom: Autumn jacket. It should be noted that my bathroom floor is falling in so Eric and another repairman, Ethan, were at my house today checking it out, among other things. I know exactly what rooms they were in today because I can smell his jacket still. Sitting in my room, doing homework: Cigarette smoke stuck to a denim jacket. It should be noted that since around May of last year I have been a cigarette addict in my dreams. For whatever reason, I am a chain smoker and since then cannot get enough of the smell. Dream Molly loves cigarettes and she is slowly invading Conscious Molly's mind because everytime I exit the school I can smell the class of 2006 lighting up and God help me, I want to join. It should also be noted that, since I haven't had these dreams in a very long time, I do not like the smell as much and do not want to smoke. And so, it should be noted that perhaps I am on the fence with autumn.
October 9, 2004 "No."
October 9, 2004
October 7, 2004 "Gun it." That's the extent of our optimism.
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