I’m kind of getting pissed at both of the online stores I’ve ordered at. Xoxide.com, where I got my keyboard and headset, hasn’t shipped my order for four days (tomorrow will be five) and Tigerdirect.com never sent me a confirmation e-mail of my order. I put in the order ID number and it says that it’s already been shipped which is insane because I just ordered it like five or six hours ago. They’d better get their lame asses in gear, Xoxide already billed me, the bastards. I’m going to pretend that they’ve shipped my order already and they just never sent me a shipping confirmation e-mail. Lame.

Well, the potluck was tonight and it was actually a lot of fun. There was this one guy there who I know I’ll see in a gay bar somewhere in 20 years. I have impeccable gaydar. He’s totally gay. Or at least bi. Oh, everybody loved my cake. It’s SO delicious, I was in love. I wish I was hungry or I’d have a piece. We never really did have a layout session. The e-mail was down so I couldn’t e-mail Antonio that story he needed to work on, but I guess I can do that tomorrow. I went up to Smith River and got gas tonight, it was only $2.19 at the casino. I felt proud of myself. Yet another chore done.

Oh, that would be so cool if my order arrived after I got back from the trip, that would be totally uber sweet! I have to go buy a CD player tomorrow so I can play CDs on the trip. Well, maybe Molly has one. I’ll have to ask her tomorrow. Because I have the little CD to tape adapter thing. I should go put that in the car now before I forget. I really wanted to comment on John’s last TOTALLY INSIPID post, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I wasn’t the only one who thought it was totally lame. But omg omg I totally ordered that micro drive thingy and the mp3 companion thing (totally swank!) With my next (huge) paycheck I think I’m either going to get a video card and another stick of RAM (the practical thing) or a really good digital camera (the creative thing). I haven’t decided yet. I’m really thinking RAM/video card, because there is only a miniscule chance they’d get destroyed, but it’s really easy to break a digital camera. Okay, must go to sleep and wake up and work on my essay. We’re supposed to go to the river after everybody gets out of film class, so I should have ample time to do everything I need to do. I should stop blogging and go to sleep.

That’s weird, the Blogger spell check thing said that “blogging” wasn’t in its dictionary. Uber-lame.

Woot! Molly brought me food, it was so yummy. Well, I’m off work…I couldn’t bring myself to verify letters—I’m really bad… But I deposited my check and just bought the 512MB micro USB drive thingy and the MP3 companion for it! (there are pictures of it in an earlier post). Oh god, I’d been waiting to buy those all day long. Ah…I’m spent now. I almost wish I didn’t have to go to that damned potluck. I want to go home and relax and write my essay. If there were people here I wouldn’t mind as much, but the only person here is Tawna and she’s passing time playing cards with the people in the lounge. I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much that there aren’t people here…people I don’t like could show up. That would totally suck. Sammie and Steve were supposed to be here, according to Tawna, but they never arrived. Oh well. I don’t know what to do now. I’m totally fulfilled by buying that stuff. *sigh* I need a cigarette now.

Mike was in his chair as I came in today, and due to my stuperstitions this will be a bad day. But it couldn’t be a bad day…I get paid. I feel like the boy in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time when he looks out of his mother’s window and sees two groups of cars that mean different days. But anyway, after English (which was kinda cool) I went into the office and worked on my editorial page, it is totally done now.

Woot! I just got paid, $311. Mouhahahaha. I want to go deposit it and revel in my buying stuff! But I can’t, I have to finish my work. Motherfuckers, there’s someone at the counter to see me.

I made a nutmeg cake and I iced it with lemon vanilla frosting. I put a bit too much lemon in it, but I hope it will taste okay. Oh, it’s the weirdest thing, my DVD-ROM drive has been randomly changing letters. Last time I started it up it was G:/ and now it’s back to I:/. It’s very strange. But I don’t really care. Now if it was my hard drives changing letters, that would be noteworthy. Well, it’s 1:10 and I must be getting to sleep. I can’t believe I stayed up this late, but I had to prove to Antonio that I’m not an Amy (for those not on the Drift, this euphemism means one who says they will do things but really doesn’t do them). Okay, must go to sleep. I accomplished a lot today. I can’t wait to buy that USB drive and MP3 player! I love technology. Everything is a machine. That reminds me of a quote from Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut.

“Dear Sir, poor sir, brave sir:
You are an experiment by the Creator of the Universe. You are the only creature in the entire Universe who has free will. You are the only one who has to figure out what to do next—and why. Everybody else is a robot, a machine.
Some persons seem to like you, and others seem to hate you, and you must wonder why. They are simply liking machines and hating machines.
You are pooped and demoralized. Why wouldn’t you be? Of course it is exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which hasn’t been met to be reasonable.
You are surrounded by loving machines, hating machines, greedy machines, unselfish machines, brave machines, cowardly machines, truthful machines, lying machines, funny machines, solem machines. Their only purpose is to stir you up in every conceivable way, so the Creator of the Universe can watch your reactions. They can no more feel or reason than grandfather clocks.
The Creator of the Universe would now like to apologize not only for the capricious, jostling companionship he provided during the test, but for the trashy, stinking condition of the planet itself. The Creator programmed robots to abuse it for millions of years, so it would be a poisonous, festering cheese when you got here. Also, he made sure it would be desperately crowded by programming robots, regardless of their living conditions, to crave sexual intercourse and adore infants more than almost anything.
He also programmed robots to write books and magazines and newspapers for you, and television and radio shows, and stage shows, and films. They wrote songs for you. The Creator of the Universe had them invent hundreds of religions, so you would have plenty to choose among. He had them kill each other by the millions, for this purpose only: that you be amazed. They have commited every possible atrocity and every possible kindness unfeelingly, automatically, inevitably, to get a reaction from Y-O-U.
Everytime you went to the library, the Creator of the Universe held His breath. With such a higgledy-piggledy cultural smorgasbord before you, what would you, with your free will, choose?
Your parents were fighting machines and self-pitying machines. Your mother was programmed to bawl out your father for being a defective moneymaking machine, and your father was programmed to bawl her out for being a defective housekeeping machine. They were programmed to bawl each other out for being defective loving machines.
Then your father will be programmed to stomp out of the house and slam the door. This automatically turned your mother into a weeping machine. And your father would go down to a tavern where he would get drunk with some other drinking machines. Then all the drinking machines would go to a whorehouse and rent fucking machines. And then your father would drag himself home to become an apologizing machine. And your mother would become a very slow forgiving machine.”

“And so on.”

I love Kurt Vonnegut.