June 27, 2008

Please kill me.

Well, it’s happening again. That sleeping schedule warpage that happens over the Summer where you go to bed later and later and later, and wake up later and later and later accordingly. It’s happening. 12:30 and I’m going to be up well into morning. A little unfortunate for me, because I need to be up and about and (most importantly) alert at 8am. D’oh.

Today I babysat, worked, got my oil changed and then Rani came over and we got some skids from WBO for the shack’s foundation. A truly, truly unfortunate issue has come up with the shack, however. We’re going to have to relocate because of some sort of wetlands bullshit restricting us from building in our own god damned woods. The plan as of right now is to just move it back further, but I’m not so-totally-about having a shack out in the middle of the fucking woods, what with the yetis and what-haves-ye running around all gorilla dick. I just want a shack. I want it to have a carpet, some sofas, and a table. I really don’t want to have to get all cloak-and-lantern to go out to it like some sort of medieval quest. We have the foundation laid out perfectly, we have most of the material, we have the interest and dedication it would take to carry through with this sort of thing. It’s going to be a real bummer if it doesn’t work out, because I hardly ever take interest in doing anything anymore.

One thing that I really have to do this Summer is get in shape. God knows I need it. I can hardly go stand out in the sun for twenty minutes without getting all woozy and having to shell out my hard-earned pocket change for a water bottle. I’ve been taking Magnesium because apparently energy drinks deplete it, and you all very well know that I practically live on Red Bull. The thing about Magnesium is that it takes fucking forever to kick in. Days. What a fucking weekends this is going to be.

On the bright side, I’m going to Steph’s mountain house on Monday with Steph, Brit, Megan and some girl named Tami who I’ve never met. We’re going to be up there for four days, wrestling grizzly bears and what-have-you. That’s what you do outdoors, right?

On that note, I’d like to say that I’m glad to have my friends. I’m glad to be re-making friends from my past and meeting new people. I honestly hate being this fucking dependent, but they’re what keeps me happy and motivated and I hope that I could give at least half of what they gave me back to them.

Let’s talk about the Truth Box and what exactly constitutes an insult. I was reading mine today because I haven’t in a while, and I got one that informed me that I was NOT great despite what I might think (which I found hilarious, because I wrote ‘don’t forget to tell me how great I am’ above my Box in completely obvious sarcasm) and that I was weird. I thought about this. I’m weird? If you look around, you know, everyone’s weird. What makes me any weirder than the next person? I actually find weird people to be more useful than conventional people. They’re more inventive, and certainly more contributive. What could tame people ever hope to be but the obedient worker? How could ‘weird’ ever really be used as an insult in this sense? Needless to say, I wasn’t offended.

Don’t forget to snatch up my dumb fucking mix while you’re lurking. I promise it’s decent, and you might find something you like.

‘Til next time.


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