missing those halcyon days of crappy bathrooms and bad food

Everyone once in awhile I can get into a mindset where I view college as I did before I was actually in college, and I have this dream that maybe it will somehow turn into that great stage in life that the naive think it is. You know, being friends with your roommates, watching movies, eating popcorn, playing frisbee, and all sorts of stuff that doesn't really happen. There was always the chance, like if I'd had more interesting roommates, but there is no longer a chance of college being fun.

Yup, I'm a commuter now. Today's total time spent parking: 25 minutes.

In short:
-Waking up in the morning makes me woozy.
-Contemporary Ethical Theory involves meta-ethics, which I apparently know something about already, courtesy of Prof. Castiglione and Understanding Ethics for Dummies.
-A social security card is useless, but necessary to turn in employment papers on campus.
-When commuting to college, your car doubles as your locker.
-Cars and pedestrians both are a scourge of my existence as a commuter.
-"Drop out early so I can have your parking spot, loser."
-"Drop out early so you're not crossing the street in my way, loser."
-Drawing 101 involves buying many more varieties of pencils than I care to own.
-Working my first shift at Donovan didn't kill me toothoroughly.
-Stocking drinks brings feelings of nostalgia.
-Wintergreen rubbing alcohol is apparently a different substance than regular rubbing alcohol.

I would also like to send a big "shut the fuck up" to college girls who talk about going out with "boys." They're freakin' full grown; they're not walking around with Transformers and cooties anymore. Men, guys, dudes, fellows... but not boys. The word girl, for some reason, still works for quite a bit longer. Maybe because so many of the other words for girl are mostly used by men looking to score? An interesting thought, but not quite interesting enough for me to take Women in Society as a replacement for Drawing 101.

booze, meat, and galactic conquest

Currently I am at Dan's house where he is having his HOTDOG PARTY, a celebration of his 21 years of existentance. He and I gathered a wide array of toppings: guacamole, sour cream, ketchup, mustard, chocolate and berry syrups, chili, weiner sauce, onion, cole slaw, and peppers. The whole thing was an idea he had after watching a hot dog documentary on PBS. Lovely.

After the arrival of Nate, and later on Nate's brother and girlfriend, we started a massive game of Star Wars monopoly. I bowed out early on, after spending money as if I actually had some to acquire my favorite side of the board.

Yesterday Dad and I put an offer on a 1997 Nissan Sentra, but we backed out today because of some rot where the door meets the car, and from a dream that I think was supposed to be a premonition.

I have to leave now, because my ride is leaving. Dan is not my ride, BECAUSE HE IS DRUNK!!! YAY.

vehicle-induced headaches

Trying to buy a car is the worst.

Sometimes a car looks better before you actually see it, particularly when the ad is put out by a shifty used car salesman. The ad looked like it was put out by a private owner, but then it turned out that the car was being sold at Paglia Something-or-Other in Warwick. When I called, the man on the other end said the car has 130,000 miles, but when we got there it had 142,000. We asked about this 12,000 mile discrepancy and were answered with "I said 142,000 on the phone." Uh no, you didn't, but thanks for showing us that you're the stereotypical used car salesman, always ready to flex the truth a bit.

After all this headache, particularly getting lost in Cranston/ Warwick with Dan while trying to find a dealer (who closed before we got there, and before he said he would close), I'm really wishing that we had just bought the first car we looked at. Wonderful condition 1997 Toyota Corolla... sold now to someone else.

Dad's near constand mind-changing doesn't really help matters either:
"Look up Corollas, Civics, Proteges, and Sentras from $2000-$5000. 4 doors. "
"You can't really expect anti-lock brakes on this sort of car."
"Maybe we should just get something cheap and American."
"Also look up Fords and Saturns. And Chevys."
"If we just upped the price range a bit..."
"Maybe a Ford Focus is a good idea. You can get a newer one."
"You don't really want a Ford Focus, do you? They're no good!"
"Well, maybe a 2 door wouldn't bring up the insurance too much."
"Actually, I really think we should hold out for anti-lock brakes."

Tomorrow I'm going to look at a Nissan Sentra, and I'll also have to ask Anthony about his car, because I think it might be the same kind of Saturn that dad is now interested it. There's Saturn SC1 and SC2, and I have no idea what the difference is, but they're a little cheaper than most of the Japanese stuff we've been going for and dad was impressed by the fuel economy.

it's bad enough already

An ego is a buffer against inadequacy, but also a platform of bad judgement.

I feel something missing, like I'm only half a person, like it's too much work to keep up the other half.

In one of my old high school yearbooks, some guy whose name I can't remember has a quote which says, "Hard work beats talent, if talent doesn't work hard." I always knew my fate would be as the lazy talent, the lump of unused potential, beaten out by schmucks who, if I bothered to lift a finger, would be left in the dust.

The thing about extreme laziness is that it doesn't allow for a cure, because a cure means doing something.

If I can get that on campus job, I'm not going to tell them. I'll call it my secret job.

Nothing can be done in this world without filling out a form of some sort.