Saw Storey today, which was fun. He loves driving in Boston, and he wants to do it everyday, for as many hours as he did today. His love for Boston driving is so astoundingly huge.

I'm tired. I expected to sleep late today, until the raid happened. And I have to get up early tomorrow.

Jenn is back! We went to Chili's, which was phun! And Lisa is going to bring us stuff tomorrow! And Jenn got some of those wonderful folding cloth outdoor chairs, which are so nice.

Oh, and Jenn has the best vengeance ever when she puts her mind to it. I hope she does hide the phone under her pillow. :-)

Why don't people know how to *do* things?

I don't know why Storey seems to think I complained overly much about my new room. I went on for a full huge paragraph about how much it rocked, and mentioned a couple things (the phone jacks and the shower) that I disliked. He must have not read the part where I yammered on and on about the greatness of this room.

I just took a good look outside. Ya know what it smells like out there? Football season.

Or don't. I was being dramatic. My wreckage will be way more subtler.

I figured it out today. It's not that I didn't like her so much as I didn't like her presence. Yeah, I mean, she could get on my nerves, but I was way more riled by what I had to see, what I was forced to see. It's why I'm riled now. I hate watching him in the third person. The way he was with her, the way he treated her, it made me sick. Because it was shitty. But the extra sickness was the underlying knowledge that on some level I was not in a vastly different situation. My anger at her stupidity in going back time and time again was anger at myself for being stupid and for NOT SEEING. And maybe I'm angry now again in the same way. How could she fail to shake him one more time after all that shit that happened? But maybe I'm doing the same thing. Gah. Maybe not, though. We are very different when it comes down to it. How much is different now and how much is denial. I don't know. I really don't.

At any rate, she's happy now. She reminds me that there's a way around all the stupid shit. And so I think it will be fun to have her around.

I still can't tell her the truth about many things. I want to, but in some ways they just aren't important anymore.

I have just found the most terrifying webpage: Harvard Dining Services Internal. The creepy way John Harvard stares out from the gloom, the jail-like visage of the Dining Services building, as if the sign could say, Massachusetts State Penitentiary. I think whoever designed this page *definitely* had a sense of humor.

The web journal world has been a wasteland lately. Either people's various pages have been down, or they haven't been updated. This is making me feel like I'm in a scifi movie in which I wake up and NO ONE IS LEFT ON THE PLANET EXCEPT FOR ME. Except, in a virtual sense.

What should I do for dinner?

I went to Lee's Beehive, shocker. I've never had a burger there. They're very good. Then I have been doing Band stuff. I'm pretty sick of that, so we'll see what's next.

Unfortunately my coworker is not much brighter than the masses. She just commented to me that Austin is like Boston because it has a river running through it. I didn't bother to let her know that many many human cities are built near sources of water. She's a fucking genius.

I do have to say, I really do like the way things are now. A lot. :-)

Anyone wanna take a guess as to who I ran into in the Science Center just now? Don't try cuz you won't get it: Pete O'Connor. He's back to short hair, and hanging around here until he goes back to his job in October. Wacky!

Ugh. I may stop watching a movie in the middle, the first in a long time. Maybe I just shouldn't see movies based on books I loved: The Cider House Rules. Maybe I hate this movie because in 45 minutes, way more than half the book has been covered, all the character developing events have been completely left out, and some of the crucial plot points are entirely absent. The character Melony and her relationship with Homer was crucial to the story. The whole thing about Homer not knowing about his fabricated heart condition was crucial to the story. Dr. Larch's history may not be completely essential, but it's more interesting than most of what I've been watching. And now knowing that what's left being worthwhile depends largely upon some of the basic characterization existing leads me to not want to sit through 80 more minutes of this bullshit. How disappointing. I can't believe this was Irving's adaptation... I mean really, what was the man thinking.

Unfortunately, I have nothing else to do. But I really don't think I can keep watching that movie. I wonder if there is fun anywhere, or if I should just go to sleep.

I went to lunch with Tom today, and it was actually very pleasant and not at all irritating. The great thing about meeting with Tom these days, even if it is irritating it's always short because he schedules them before he has to go to UHS for appointments there. So they can't last hours upon hours.

After that I got some things done in the BR. Lisa is back--YAY!-- and we chatted about the scandalous goings on and all those things. I wish I could write about it here, because it really is a great soap opera when taken as a whole, but the public nature of the web makes it messy. So we're going to meet tonight at Uno's. The plan was to sit outside, but my coworker tells me that the weather map is currently showing a comet-like green splotch over Connecticut. My own analysis on weather.com indicates that this will pass safely to the south of us, but if I'm wrong, I never said I was a meteorologist.

I was heading for work when I heard my name called out and WOW it's Marsha M.! She goes to Tufts, so I suppose it shouldn't have been so surprising, but I haven't seen her in ages. She stayed in town this summer too, and she mentioned that no one was at home this summer. It's sort of self-perpetuating, I guess, in either direction. I was always amazed how Storey and Co. manage to hang out together every summer, because it seems like so much of the SciOly and Advocate gangs have split permanently.

Speaking of the old Pro, am I the only person getting a 403 on the Introspection page? And he's on the road, so it's not like he can do anything about it.

Man, I just realized, next year the class of '97 will be five years out of high school. Craziness. WE'RE ALL GETTING OLD.

I wonder how things will work out.

Today was an unmotivated day to the extreme. Well, in spurts. I got up waaay too late, then it took me forever to get out of the house. I managed to get one thing done and then sat around the BR not wanting to do anything. I got coffee, which brightened me lots, and I took care of a few more things and then went to the help desk. I read newsgroups and selected courses to shop, but nothing really productive. And now I am unmotivated again. Maybe I need to take vitamins. It's quite possible that this is part of the problem; the close of the dining hall has turned my nutrition to shit. For example, today I ate Vienna sausages for lunch. They were tasty, but ew ew ew. Not nutritious. I need to find a good place to get salad. I need salad bar. I'm always a proponent of the dining hall when it is closed.

Some people need to learn social skills. Like, how to speak to people appropriately with respect to social and institutional hierarchy. Yeesh.

Oh, my one comment is Tooooooooooooms! It must be weird to be Doug Hutchison and look in the mirror every day and see a creepy-looking little man. Damn is that kid creepy. Eeeeeeeeeeww creepy.

I meet the sketchiest people. I was at Christie's, and this guy comes by and says, "Good evening, beautiful" as he passes me. I turn around... and it turns out this guy is actually really hot. But it turns out he's actually camping out in the little park there. He said he was new in town, from Pittsburgh, and so he doesn't know anyone. He's going to Europe in about five weeks. He had a Palm Pilot, however. Maybe he's a drug dealer, since he referred to the park as his "office." He made no mention of drugs to me, however, but I skedaddled fairly quickly. I have his phone number, which is amusing. Why is it that when I do meet hot men who seem to think I'm cute, that they have to be sketchy... I'm hoping this is not a required set of parameters.

And I HATE the fucking Windows OS for not putting my computer on standby all the way, and instead putting it in, looks-like-standby-but-continues-to-run-at-a-bajillion-degrees mode. I opened the case after it had been in there about 20 minutes, and I thought it was on fire in there. It seems to be okay, though, and I cooled it pretty quickly by sitting it bottoms-up in front of the fan.

Enough moving for one day. Shower time. Then we'll see.

Things that suck about the shower: 1) whoever had the job of cleaning it during spring cleanup didn't do it; 2) there is a complete lack of illumination from the bathroom lights. During the day I bet the window shoots plenty of light in that direction... if you choose to flash the world. Something will have to be done. But it's kind of cute inside... the ceiling makes kind of a little hut... the eaves can be charming.

Oh, other goodness about the phone is that it works in the bedroom. I realize this seems ridiculous... of *course* it works in the bedroom if the receiver is in the common room, how far apart could they be? I am continually astounded. I'm not sure how well I could hear the phone ring from here in the bedroom... haven't tested it yet.

In some ways, it was easier...

There are two worlds, two different people. To take what one says in one world and try to apply it to the other world leads to chaos and hurt feelings, usually mine. How terrible is it to like someone so much more when they're drunk, because it's really the only time they're nice and sweet and adoring?

Ugh, I hate pronouns in English. Proper grammar just sounds cruel sometimes.

So, it turns out this morning that I am now crippled. I made a lap around the place, kinda waddling like, but mostly every muscle in my body hurts. And something has bitten me on the ankle.

Must... digest.... I went to Lee's Beehive for lunch, after going there last night for dinner. I never really get tired of the place. And I'm on a big kick lately for supporting small business in the square. I'm getting fucking sick of all these chains that keep coming in and wrecking the place. Lee's is just the epitome of the tiny little place with good cheap food with the one dude who is always working there. The food is just so not-processed, and that makes me happy. Even the dining hall is largely thawed frozen stuff poorly cooked. But yeah, I ordered french toast with sausage, thinking I could use some protein but wanting some sweet. When the order came, it had like a bajillion slices of french toast (all tasty), sausage, AND BACON. Holy cow, er, pig. There was an old lady sitting next to me (first thing she says to me is to enjoy youth, because someday I'll get old and stiff, and I was like, well I'm feeling pretty stiff today thanks to moving), and so since I was talking to someone, I managed to eat it all. I may never have to eat again.

Urgh, and now it's moving time. URGH!

I got everything moved from L entry, with the help of JRod. Tomorrow, the Band Room stuff gets here.

Priority. Call when it's too late to be seen. Do the same old thing when it isn't too late. Rank. It's too late to stay up, sleep should be had, unless there's a beer involved. Sleep ranks after beer, but we know what it ranks before. Agency. It's power and action. Action without power is not agency. Action under your power is your agency at work. Waste. Turning back. And I promised myself there wouldn't be buildup. I should have just emailed.

Ugh, I hate moving. At least this is the last move for many many months. Perhaps I can convince Harvard to let me live in the new room forever. It rocks a whole lot. I hadn't seen it since May. Neither bedroom is particularly huge, but I managed to fit an extra dresser (oh yeah, there is still furniture for four people in the place). Jenn's room (I hope she likes it, since I picked) has a badass huge half circle window, which doesn't open, but in which it is possible to sit. It gets much better light than mine, which has a little window way deep in the eaves. I may stick a chair in there or something. The extra room is ginormous, and it even includes an overhead light and a lamp. There is currently a bed in there... the question now is whether to leave the bed, or remove it and just go with the futon mattress... or try to fit both... not sure if the latter is possible. What will lead to the most squalor, that is the real question. The bathroom is also huge, featuring two sinks. It was closed up and smelled kinda skanky-ass earlier, but I think it's mostly aired out. There are two closets in the main hall, for extra crap and for the coats of our guests. The common room is kind of long, but not too wide. This makes it a little awkward for smaller gatherings, perhaps, but wicked great for parties. There is currently a bed, two desks, a dresser, and two bookshelves in the common room. The bed and one desk for sure will go. I think maybe a desk in the common room could be cool... maybe I could even put my desktop out there as the computer for that room (because the bedrooms are so far away!). I think the bookshelves could be useful. And the dresser could be useful if Jenn wants it, or if she doesn't, maybe we could find a use for it in the common room (bar?) or extra bedroom (heh). At any rate, the whole place is fantastic. I just wish all my stuff was there.

Moving is way nicer when the sun goes down... it's so nice and cool and not-humid outside right now.

So, if we do decide to keep the guest bed, the question becomes, satin sheets or a roll of that butcher paper they have in the examining room at the doctor's office? Okay, so probably neither.

It has started: ebay registration and first bid on an item. Yikes.

Heh. It occurs to be that the half-drunk and the half-awake converse at about the same level.

Surge is so... green.

The mailing was no problem at all. The guy was really funny grumbling at us because we're always so retarded at mailing, but it was good-natured grumbling, and we weren't too much of an ass pain.

Oh man, high school cutie boy emailed me to say he had a great time this summer. Wow.

I had such weird dreams last night. There was one in which we were watching a video of field rehearsal, and it was really muddy, as in, the place was a field of mud about 2 inches deep, but we didn't care at all and were playing ball in it. And I was giving Morgan a hard time, and then pushed him and he fell over into the mud and we all laughed hysterically. There was some other part where I had managed to piss off some really scary guy who proceeded to try and run me over in his truck. Somehow the forces of the Drill Masters stopped him, and he ended up with a few parts missing. This may have all been this morning... at 6:30 am, this car alarm outside went off (as it did yesterday at the same time... I'm wondering if someone's using the car as a clock alarm), at 8:30am some stupid telemarketer called... all this made me want to sleep in really late, so I had lots of vivid dreams. The same company of telemarketers called me back at 11:30, and I was grateful that time because I needed to get out of bed and wasn't finding the motivation, so I was much nicer to the person who called then (I was really not so nice to the woman who called this morning).

Oh my God, Storey wrote about seeing Marple yesterday, and that reminded me, he was in one of my dreams too! Well, sort of. This kid walked in the room that looked exactly like him, and I said, "Marple?", but it turned out the kid was a foreign exchange student and not Marple at all. But the resemblance was uncanny to me. How weird!

It has been said before, but it never ceases to need saying: Fuck the WE.

Today on nytimes.com front page, New Mexican children embarrassing the Prez. I love those little tykes.

Instead of being in the BR and doing actual work, I decided to work at the help desk and write thank you notes. It's stuff that needs to be done, yes, but it may not be the most crucial piece of business ever.

FOR HARVARD UNDERGRADS: The Fall 2001 Course Catalog in Word format. It includes only courses that are offered in Fall 2001 (no bracketed or spring courses). Easier than digging through the usual course catalog mess.

I completely forgot about my desk hours until just now (right after they are over). I didn't remember them last night at all before I went to bed, not even a little. Good thing there are normally like a bajillion people at the desk on Wednesday mornings.

Why do I have so much to do?

Some men just can't function without being giant pricks.

So, there's this course that I have always wanted to take called Social Psychology of Organizations, which pretty much perfectly describes that subject in which I have the most interest. Unfortunately, this course has always met and will probably always meet from 8:30-10am Tues/Thurs, in William James Hall, which is no short trek from Lowell.

But upon further review, which reminds me of things I forgot, there is a group project for the class. If there's anything I have no desire to do, it's a group project with Havard psych students. Yech. Oh yeah, and class participation counts 20%, and there's a midterm and final. No way. I'll just have to steal the reading list and do that myself.

Today is my day off from all things. Who wants ta par-tay!

I hate it when I intend to call someone, and then log in and see that they are probably not home. I never call anyone. Grrr.

Things that are fucking terrifying: the fire alarm speaking loudly. Things that are fucking annoying: the fire alarm being tested while I'm trying to work on my project. When the speaking happened, I thought maybe my computer speakers were picking up some outside interference loud and clear, but when the alarm went off, I remembered they're testing today. Bleh.

The project is going pretty well. I have quite a few slides left, but they are all the easy ones that I only have a few comments on each. All the hardest ones are up front. But I still need to work on the intro slides which currently have quotations, but not arguement.

Dear fire alarm: STOP TALKING!

In the midst of the talking fire alarm came in some men to stick a pole up onto the smoke detectors in the room. The guy said that the talking would be over soon. The real question at this point is why for the love of god could this testing not be done next week when everyone has left.

My favorite line of thought is what to do Tuesday. Sure, there is all sorts of band stuff that should get done, but maybe it can wait one more day. Maybe I should go to the beach. I really want to go to the beach sometime... maybe next week. We'll see what day it's not raining. And there are movies I haven't seen. And I still need to go to Six Flags so that I can use my free ticket.

I so hate working on things that require me to write. My ability to procrastinate is endless. I'm at the point where I know everything I need to write, I just need to *write* it. But I just *won't*.

Last night we saw the midnight showing of American Pie II, since Scottie had to sound op the summer theater show until late. We went to the new Boston Common Loews. We paid a painful $10 admission, but it's a really cool theater. And they had frozen mocha happinesses (really, multiple happinesses, in a variety of chocolately coffee goodness) for not much more than regular coffee stores (that is to say ridiculously-priced, but not more so than normal). The theater has stadium seating, which I adore for its enormous screen. They didn't have the sound cranked up, which was okay but I generally like the volume to be up a little. The movie itself was as expected: hilarity based on bodily functions and embarrassment, but not much else. Afterwards we had to take a cab back since the T is lame, and we ended up in the scariest cab ever. The guy was just driving insanely fast. But we survived.

It's actually cooled off finally. This makes me so very happy.

Bad things about coworker not being here: 1) no food, very cranky; 2) idiocy of users falls squarely on me, VERY CRANKY. I am customer service hell today.

So, last night and three nights ago each I had a dream in which Gwen F. appeared... and who should I see in the Square just now? She said she's applying to art school. Craziness!

Oh yeah, and I kinda also mind power outages when it's 99 degrees with over 70% humidity outside, because then my fan doesn't work.

I've been giving feedback right here... USELESS feedback. I need think time. I unfortunately have a project due in five days that requires oh so much work. Maybe I can pass along some knee-jerk reactions soon.

Every time I think about doing actual work at the desk this morning, my brain freezes and then I have to drink some coffee to get it to unfreeze (but it hasn't unfrozen enough to be productive, and even typing this is pretty difficult).

Why does the cutest and coolest boy I meet in a long time have to be a senior... in high school?

Happy Birthday, Dave! He was fairly drunk and doing the Buffalo dance before we left. Too bad his theater friends are retraded and sat upstairs at Uno's so Lisa and I missed much of the festivities. I didn't end up minding so much.

Storey, you're scrawny! But give updates on how good The Fourth Hand is.

I think I'm third across the _Loosely Based_ finish line.

I am really irate. I refuse to put up with this crap.

I'm really surprised Pro liked Things to Do In Denver When You're Dead so very much. I thought it kind of dragged on and was really predictable. I think the only time I was surprised the whole movie was when Critical Bill actually managed to kill the hitman, but then he got killed anyway, like I figured he would since he was just standing there like an idiot. I did like the video clips thing as a neat thread. So Storey, why do you like this movie?

Trainspotting, on the other hand, had awesome music. And a creepy dead baby.

Oh, and get the DVD version of the movie, if you can, and put on the subtitles. I caught way more of it that way. I could understand most of the dialect on my own, but it just helped.

Why does it have to be so damn hot outside. And why does lunch have to sit grossly in my stomach.

Storey and I do communicate through our webpages instead of email. I accepted that when G said it. I think it's okay as long as we're not saying things like, "Storey is a big fat idiot!"

Speaking of Storey, I am reading his novel. There are several greatly amusing things about it through Chapter 3. 1) The Catie/Kathy thing... muahaha; 2) that Matt Norton hates being called Matthew is making me paranoid that maybe the real life Matthew I know might hate that I call him Matthew; 3) that abusive Rick liked the song "Under My Thumb" by the Rolling Stones. These things are not inherently amusing, just to me. What's extra fun is knowing Storey and knowing the influences of various nuances in the book.

4) Coffee made with caffeinated water; 5) Lesbian working at a Philly Starbucks.

No slanted roofs in Taos? Pro-zers, have you ever seen an A-frame? I command you to go up to Red River ahora mismo, then go back and fix p. 89.

6) Amber.

Echo Pro's comment on the misfortune of people having crappy parents... yikes! Mine, I'm glad to say, are sane, even if they call the place I'm in but not the room I'm in.

I'm still waiting for my copy of _Loosely Based_.

Today I watched Caddyshack, Trainspotting, and Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead. I liked the middle movie best. I had to get all these movies watched and in the mail so I can get my money's worth before I cancel my netflix subscription before the August billing date. And I need to work on my project next week, so I had to make them go away today. That and I needed a vacation after last week's work.

Where the hell is turdhead anyway?

Last night we saw Romeo and Juliet at the X, and it was mad twisted. There were extra story lines thrown in that just added to the not-happy ending. And the music was cool. And Mercutio ruled. It dragged in parts, but I think the take on the story was quite inventive.

Afterwards we went to Courtney's, which was fun. Morgan got a stupid haircut which, as Erin aptly pointed out, makes him look like one of those troll dolls.

I forgot it was August when I wrote last night.

The things I hate most about myself are my paranoia and my jealousy.

T.B. McGrath wins Best Band Alumnus of the Year!