imwithjonas's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- New Digs, a School in Flames, and Long Goodbyes New Digs, a School in Flames, and Long GoodbyesThe school is about to be slapped. The entire 80MAU (80 Miles Away University, in case you've forgotten) community will feel the shockwave of said slap. I'm so pissed right now. This calls for a sketchy update of my living and working situation. I have, in fact, moved into Grace's home in Tiny Town, about half an hour outside of University Town. I reside there rather cozily. In exchange for room and board, I perform various and sundry duties. As I mentioned before, she was born without arms and legs (that phrase seems to get me lots of hits, so I'll play it up). Anyhow, I'm in charge of cooking and some light cleaning. I attend to her in lifting capacities, helping her get in and out of bed, the shower, etc. It's not particularly hard, though it does wear on the back. Poor back. I like Aleve, by the way. I use to stand stalwartly by ibuprofen products, but Aleve is vastly superior. That's beside the point. I have a nice room, and can wander about the house and grounds at will. Heh, saying grounds makes it sound like some big fancy estate. It's not. I have to put up with the cat. I'm a cat person, but I don't get along that well with this particular feline. He likes me just fine, and makes his affection known by sitting on me if I stay stationary for more than 15 seconds. Frankly, I find him annoying and clingy. He also bites the shit out of you if you try to pick him up. He has to be picked up a lot, too, what with the annoying sitting on you or things that you need. I smack him frequently. Grace also has a dog, but I don't have many dealings with the beast. She (the dog) is large and brown, and of indeterminate background. She smells horrendous. Grace swears the smell is not in anyway lessened by bathing. I don't care enough to try. I only have to feed the mongrel. At least she doesn't have an annoying jumping habit or anything of that nature. I have truly atrocious internet conditions. I'm talking the worst, folks. That's right. Grace has AOL, horrible, dial-up, suckity AOL, hence the less frequent posting. You, gentle reader, can now expect only one post a week, but it will be of goodly length. I'm thinking either Mondays, or the now abandoned Tuesdays of my dear friend. That tragic loss will be addressed later. To make up for the sucking internet, she's got fucking awesome cable. I have all the channels God has always meant for me to have. I can now watch Six Feet Under and Queer as Folk. I'm happy as a clam as telly goes, and a very happy clam, at that. My only real problem is that I'm not allowed to talk about any of my telly viewing. Pat's done everything but slap me for even saying I watch QaF. He's a bit tender on that subject. If he can't watch it, he obviously doesn't want me blabbing about it. All my other friends are less than interested. Xavier is a total homophobe and scoffs whenever I mention either show. Six Feet Under does have the gay brother, as you should know if you're of any worth. Poor ignorant Xavier. The awesomeness of telly has leant to the rage in which I began this post. Last night, my good friend Showtime played three glorious hours of QaF that I had not seen. That's not too difficult, since I've seen, like, three episodes total. I wanted to know what season they were from. I was able to deduce that much from the "computer" at Grace's. I have a "job" at 80MAU. I'm doing some work for the school's yearbook. I'll be an official assistant editor in the fall, so the insane advisor figured this would be a good way for me to get used to the system and get money, all at the same time! It mostly sucks. I sit in an office by myself for extended periods of time reading over boring sports statistics on the school's crappy teams. It does, however, give me access to the magic of high speed internet. Now, I've complained about the school's internet before, but since I've been relegated to the internet enthusiast's seventh circle of hell, I've come to appreciate the 80MAU's network much more. But not today, my friends. Today, the school has crossed a line. They've done it before, but that was back when I was busy being self-absorbed and uninformed. I figured I'd get on the QaF site again, just to figure out exactly which episodes I've got taped now. The school would like to inform you all that the site is DENIED due to MATURE CONTENT. God damn them all to hell. They pulled this shit before and I didn't take to it well then. The fuckers were warned by their damn accreditation commission. I'm thoroughly enjoying the thought of the bastards roasting in hell just now. I'm a little confused, though. I have no idea what their "standards" are for this shit. 365gay.com is fair game. They apparently don't mind gay news, it's just the gay entertainment they think is bad for the children. WE'RE NOT CHILDREN. I'm 19 last time I checked. Yep. Says it right there on my driver's license. Ugh. Anyway. That's about all the rage I have in me for today. I'm really tremendously happy. I got over my little self-loathing spat and have surmounted my short-term spell of depression. The sun is shining, Ben is singing his heart out on compy, and I'm over my unfortunate crush on/one-sided fantasy affair with poor, abused, overly-loved Patrick. I have a research paper to rewrite for competitive purposes. I could win money if my feeble freshman writing skills are better than the skills of, you know, sophomores, juniors and seniors of supposedly the same caliber of writing ability. It's mostly just nice to be good enough to have my dinky freshman paper submitted to the school-wide dealy. I just read A Density of Souls by Christopher Rice, and it was totally awesome. It made me rather philosophical about some of my former attitudes, but I'll save that conversation for next time. Finally, I have to say something sappy about the end of an era. Actually, I don't. But I will, anyway. Pat is, was, and will always be a great writer. I'm a little sad that he isn't going to write for a while. He did a good job of it. If you want any more sappy adoration read last week's trash. And read his entire journal, today. Just shut the fuck up and do it. I said that was final, but I lied. Despite my former mention of the event, I'm not going to make it to JournalCon, kids. Megan is in enough debt that she can't afford it. Instead of saving for a big trip, I vote this be my summer of self-indulgent (yet responsible) spending. I've had too many periods of pouring money out on other people. I'm getting something fabulous done to my hair. I'm buying some new clothes. I'm figuring out some kind of diet. Weight Watchers sounds useful. And as soon as I take care of a very necessary apology, I'm getting a fucking massage twice a month, every month, for the rest of my life. Well, at least until I make something a little more respectable, at which point I'll get one every damn week. Now that is a beautiful thought. I just hope I can muddle through all my rambling thoughts to say what I mean along the apology lines. Ugh. Whatev. Say goodbye to It Hurts When I Do This, kids. Anyone and everyone who happened to hang on Pat's every well-constructed sentence and cleverly turned phrase is more than welcome to read this, in as much as it's a poor replacement. I'll probably get some crap for that later, but I mean it. He's the reason I'm still doing this. One more reason for me to miss him. 11:28 a.m. - June 22, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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