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( Tuesday, Aug. 06, 2002 11:30 pm )

>Proxima estacion: esperanza

"That ain't no couch, that ain't no sofa: that's a luuuuuuvvvseat!"

Awwwwww yeaaaaaaaa, Barry and Levon. My brother made me a set of CDs with old sketches from The State (MTV, 1994-95ish) for my birthday in June and I'm still working my way through all of them. Still funny. I live for "Fragments," Michael Ian Black's performance poetry sketch: "And if I fall/ Will I break?/ Like tears/ Or cake." Looky there, a suckass poem.

I'm getting kind of psyched and kind of terrified for moving on Saturday. Starting something entirely new is something I tend to feel badly about, as demonstrated by the three years it took me to get really comfortable at PCU, or the almost nervous breakdown I had during the first couple of weeks I was in high school. Or that I could never sleep the night before starting a new temp assignment, etc. Beginnings. Difficult. I'm going to try and chill out and not be my usual worried self, because about half of me is really excited to be having my own apartment and seeing new things and meeting new people. It feels a little unreal though. This time next week hopefully I'll be unpacked, settled, and with phone and cable and internet service. And drinking a beer.

Oh man, tonight Junebug and I watched that monstrousity of a made for TV movie on MTV, the Real World one. Good god was that bad. It was like the actors from Undressed doing improv. "OK, you're a psychopath....aaaaand, scene!" I'm happily looking forward to the Planetsucks.com summary though, because it is sure to be hilarious. There's a lot of material to work with.

Ooh, and happily my one week of inexplicably missing Nathan is over and I'm so glad. I keep having flashbacks of how cool I was, and how not quite into him I was, even though I always appreciated the fact that he was so nice and so into me. And he was not a great kisser. Thought I'd share that. I'm so proud of my non-missingness in general tonight. I'm listening to my old favorite radio station too, and it's not even unbearably poignant.

My poor, beloved Toyota......well, I think I killed it with all the driving I did over the weekend. It had started sounding much louder than normal, which was a little worrying, but I just let it rest today and foolishly hoped for the best. I did as much car maintenance as I could manage, ie desultorily checking the fluid levels and looking under the car to confirm that the muffer was in fact still there. All to no avail, because when I started it up tonight it made a terrible racket, combined with a new clattering noise. I feel terrible that I've driven it to death and now plan to abandon it useless in the driveway. I'm so careless and irresponsible right now that it just makes me want to simplify: I can't take care of myself let alone anything bigger than myself. I even feel sorry for the plants in my care. Important life lesson for me: you can hide your natural fuck-up-ness under good grades for a while, but once you're out of school, it's time to face the music.

One of my contacts has been killing me lately, just torturing my eye. This happens to me from time to time, as my body's way of telling me I should just throw in the towel and wear glasses all the time. Meanwhile I'm all shallow and wishing to constantly fight the losing battle to preserve the bare minimum of attractiveness, but my body seems to be warning me to start thinking about being a girl with a good personality. Is it paranoid to think my own body is conspiring against me? I truly do, and it seems mightily unfair that as soon as I start thinking "beautiful" when I look in the mirror, suddenly my eyes get bloodshot or a cold sore appears or I break out for no reason. Come on! Work with me here, people! Why can't we work together so we'll all get muchas smoochas?

Today Junebug did two things: 1) haircut and highlights and 2) slept with her ex-boyfriend. Well, I think. The first I can be sure of because I saw the results, which I would characterize as "cute," and the second I believe to be true because he came over to her house today and she has slept with him in the past. They are apparently "friends" who sleep together, which seems a bit skeezy only because I'm certain she'd rather have a real boyfriend. I think he's a nice guy otherwise, but why can't any of my friends find a decent man? They're settling for mere skeezy action (Ruby's got a similar guy she's using for the experience). Don't you think there'd be many men anxious to meet horny good girls? You wouldn't believe how many girls of my acquaintance are stuck in the unusual position of being cute, smart, funny, and deprived of booty to an extreme degree. What a cold world it is indeed.

Holy shit, they're playing my favorite song from school, the one that goes "Que hora son, mi corazon?" by Manu Chao. Ooh ooh ooh. "Me gustas marijuana."

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