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( Sunday, Jun. 16, 2002 11:41 pm )

>Sunday news

I can't remember whether I updated today or not. Oh no, I remember now: I updated last night, while drinking. That's pretty neat. Right now I think a mosquito in my room just bit my posterior. Right this instant I am wishing I loved someone enough to want a tatoo of his name on my ass. And I'm listening to "Alex Chilton" by the Replacements. Can't you just picture it, like you're right here with me?

I've realized I have some substantial memory problems. Or does this happen to everybody, that your friends tell stories about things that have happened to you both in the past year or two, and you've entirely forgotten? It's interesting though: like "Haha, yeah, that sounds like me all right! I said what? Boy, am I stupid. Yes, indeed."

You know how I like Nathan only every other day? Today's my on day. Because I'm lonely, and I sent him an email and he hasn't written back! The thing is, I know I can trust him, and I bet he'll write tomorrow morning. But nevertheless tonight's my night to like him, and wonder what the hell he was doing this weekend.

Today Adam and I drove out to meet my parents and grandparents for dinner as a Father's Day thing. I feel a bit guilty for not wanting to spend time with my grandparents. I love them, certainly, but I've never really liked being around them. Horrible but true. My brother and I cut out early while my parents went back to my grandparent's house. On our car ride back Adam and I were talking about what a good man my father is for being so stoical in the face of irritating family obligations. He's a rock, that guy. So that was our Father's Day praise for our dad. We also bought him the huge $65 variety pack of fireworks, which is exactly what he wanted. He'll have a good Fourth. If we don't all perish in a nuclear disaster. All the sparklers in the world wouldn't be much help in that case.

Heh, I was just remembering on my birthday, when I was out with Justine, complaining to her: "I'm awkward and homely. Homely." And she replied: "Come on, Almostreally, you're not homely. You don't even cook or bake or iron."

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