March 09, 2003 :: 1:44 a.m.
wtf? you are so 1337, pat.
I am so ungodly tired that I have no idea why I'm even starting this. Wait, yes I do. I feel obligated to write in my dear online diary at least once a day, and my buddy list is telling me that it's been over 24 hours since the last entry. Bad Amanda. I actually did start an entry this afternoon, but then I called Amanda and got all absorbed in talking. And then Adam came over, and he takes precedence over everything in the universe. So yeah, that didn't happen. But this is, so all is well.
My room is partially painted. Adam and I went at it with roller and brush in hand, flinging paint and showing no mercy. It looks pretty nice, considering that we're two kids who don't really paint rooms on a regular basis. We ran out of paint after two walls, unfortunately, but I'll get some more tomorrow and then we'll dive back into the wild world of pigment and binder. I'm just hoping that I don't inhale serious amounts of fumes during the night and end up with debilitating brain damage. Because that would, of course, suck. It should be okay, though, as it has been drying for the past 9 hours or so. I hope.
After painting, we hung around here for a while and then met Amanda, Pat, and Bryan at the Middlesex Diner for dinner. It was laughs-a-minute, as usual, especially for Bryan. Everything I say makes him laugh, and I have no idea why. He laughs at things that aren't funny. It's very confusing. Apparently he finds the depths of my inner rage amusing, but that still doesn't explain the constant laughter. Perhaps it's intended to make me self-conscious, in which case he's fighting a losing battle. I'm always self-conscious, and it would really be impossible to make me more so. But whatever, it was a fun time. We sat around in Amanda's living room until after midnight, talking about random shit. We have the weirdest conversations. Sometimes these conversations make me want to kick in the teeth of everyone in the room (save for Adam, because I very rarely, if ever, want to do such things to him), but more often than not it's a lot of fun. It's a shame that we don't get to hang out more often, but such is life, I suppose. Between the five of us, we represent four different schools. This does not bode well for frequent interaction.
This desk setup makes typing very painful. Worse than how it is at school, even. I think the deal is that the desk is always too high, and so I'm reaching up and holding my wrists at uncomfortable angles all the time. When I go to get a desk for my room (which will hopefully happen tomorrow... er, today, I guess) I should make a point of finding a very short one. As in low to the ground. Because this just sucks.
Anyway... I'm too tired for this, really. And I don't have a whole lot to say. Well, I do, but it would take more effort than I have the energy to put forth at the moment. So I'm going to get some water, get ready for bed, and then fall asleep for a few too many hours. Sound like a plan?
'Night.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005