<header>Diary 41</header>

03-12-98


Fuck deep entries. I hate 'em, and I won't write 'em unless I really have a wasp up my ass. My life isn't run on endless contemplations of the nature of man/reality/time. It's run on the inane banal shit that I write about.

I got into a quasi-almost-argument/not-quite-connected discussion with C-- last night. I'm not even going to try anymore. Whenever I talk to him, it seems like I'm ramming my head into a brick wall repeatedly to get his attention. I can't take the frustration, especially when I remember that he did give a shit about me once upon a time. As if sending me an e-mail is such a fucking big deal, you know?

My cousin calls him my "internet affair". That's so completely untrue, it's funny. I couldn't view C-- in a romantic light no matter how hard I try. He's too much like me. Guys like me don't interest me.

I don't know what to do about Dirk. He swore up and down that come hell or high water, he'd be here this morning before nine. Well, 10:30 rolled around, and guess where I was headed? Yep, his house. Insomniac, my ass....he's just plain weird.

Deb came to visit with her boyfriend (am I allowed to call him that, Deb?), Joe. He was nice, pretty soft-spoken, but that's okay. Dirk's better looking, though (unbiased opinion, I swear!). Her face was all swollen up from having her wisdom teeth removed. She also had bruises on the underside of her jaw. Man, I never want to go through that.

I got another response to my survey...this time from Katie A-, of all people. So, I put her on my buddy list, and today, when Dirk was Internetting from my aol account, I talked to her. At least until Dirk got jealous that I was talking to his friend, and I had to stop. It's not my fault that he hasn't called her in nine months. Well, maybe a little. I'm the possessive type.

But I did get confirmed something I'd suspected for a long time: I'm not the only one who wants Krisco dead, or at least seriously humiliated. Katie A- wants the same thing, and hinted there's a bunch more people who feel the same.

If we all banded together, I bet we'd make a pretty good-sized lynch mob.

As a side note (I know you're just dying to hear about my pets), I cleaned out Blitzkrieg's cage a couple days ago (yes, she's still breathing). You know, hamster spit-up is like cement, only it has seed bits in it. I soaked that sucker overnight and the stuff was still as hard as ever. I ended up having to chisel it off with a butter knife. I forgot hamsters were so gross. Maybe that's why I haven't had one since I was nine.


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