> Jamiroquai - Feels So Good
> The Caesars - Jerk it Out
> Depeche Mode - Sweetest Perfection, Halo
> Veruca Salt - Seether
> Daft Punk - Crescendolls
> Garbage - Androgyny

I just got done watching The Night Porter. It was okay. Definitely not a movie to buy, but I liked it, for some strange reason. It was mediocre, but mediocre in a European way, which makes it obviously superior to even sorta good American movies. I’m so lonely in this empty apartment. I guess I could call my friends, but that wouldn’t help. Maybe I should e-mail that John guy. I was considering it, since my comment I posted never made it onto his blog.

No.

Must not throw myself at a stranger who communes with his freaking house plants. I just can’t deal with all that New Age pseudo-religious bullshit. I’m a nihilist. There is nothing. But at least I’d like to get some hot sex out of my meaningless existence. Fuck. Who do I have to blow to get a fucking cuddle every once in a while? I swear. Omg, I love “Jerk it Out.” I’m trying sooooo hard to keep from dancing my brains out in Josh’s living room. And I totally am using my mp3 player so I can do the hot iPod commercial dance thing. *happiness* I’ll piss off the Vietnamese people downstairs if I bust it out though. :(

I’ve been reading/skimming the blog of the random dude that commented on my blog. I remember the mututal friend now. We haven’t talked for a while, ever since he moved away. But the mutual friend guy totally convinced me to buy my kilt (I think it was that one). I guess I should stop moping/rambling and go to sleep. I’m not tired though. I guess I should be happy I’m alone. As Sartre said, Hell is other people. And I felt more alone when Joe and Ben were here. Well, with Ben it’s different…we can commiserate about the lack of dateable guys, but with Joe…I just don’t know. I feel like we’re Julio and Tenoch. And that’s not a good thing. Shit. I need to stop talking about other people. I’m going to try to go to sleep.

That was shit.

No, to call that prose abortion that I just had to read “shit” is to give it the biggest compliment ever. To call it shit is like giving it the fucking Pullitzer Prize. That thing is the biggest pile of maggot feces ever. My fucking god. And the stupid whore didn’t even double space it. I guess when I signed up for my creative writing class I didn’t consider the possibility that there would be twenty or so imbecile Del Norte County natives in the class with me. God.

Well, at least my homework’s done. I caved in and went home for my mail. I got a card from my mom congratulating me on my raise, and one of my Netflix movies showed up. Luckily, it was the drama, not the hot French gay sex fantasy Come Undone, which I will watch and enjoy at some time in the future. But right now I’m in the mood to see some pain, some drama. Something. I’m going to watch The Night Porter. It should be SO good. My mom wants me to proofread one of her papers, but she hasn’t called me back. I know if I start the movie, she’ll call me fifteen minutes into it and start her deluge of banality, and I’ll be on the phone with her for hours.

I need to wash the dishes. And make some more rice.

I went to work, dropped off Josh’s rent, and now I have absolutely nothing to do. I was wasting time in the student lounge because I didn’t feel like being alone. I’m thinking of going to my dad’s house to grab my movies. Netflix charged me $16, my first fee after the two-week trial membership. If watch the movies today then I’ll have another batch by the weekend. I am trying to screw them, but they’re screwing me. I must turn the tables. But yeah, I have $400 in my savings and I’ll get paid another $200-something this pay period, so I’ll have $600! If I sell my PC for $1000, I’ll have a $100 safety margin (not much), so maybe I’ll wait until the next pay period to buy it, just for extra safety. I want to keep at least $400 in my savings for random crap like my car breaking down (which is never cheap to fix). So I’m in uber-savings mode, I’m going to try to save every penny in the next month so that I can afford my computer. Perhaps I’ll pay my bills with this paycheck, and then use my next one and the one after that to make sure I don’t go broke. I think that’s a good plan. But I want it now! It just depends on how much I have. I’ll buy it if I have a $200+ safety margin, but anything under that is just tempting fate.

I ate two pop-tarts today, which was a very very bad thing indeed, and I feel like a gross pig. I must go home and fix myself some good food to cancel out the sugar/corn syrup/lard combo of the Pop-Tarts.

Oh man, last night was great. We ran out of margarita mix very very early in the night, so we went to Safeway and on the way back we rolled down the windows and blasted “Funkytown.” We were laughing the whole way. Joe and Ben got along well, I suppose. We’re all very easygoing people. Me and Ben were watching The Living End when Joe came over, but Ben wanted to watch something else becuause we were going to be socializing and he wouldn’t get to pay attention (not to mention that all the gay sex on the TV would be kinda weird for Joe). Anyway, we had a lot of fun, but towards the end of the night when it was just me and Joe I started getting SO lonely and thinking about all the crap I condition myself to never think about or blog about, just the endless loneliness and ennui of my life. Joe was hitting it off with some chick on Josh’s buddy list while I moped to myself on the couch, ostensibly entertaining myself by using the touch lamp to simulate The Cheat’s strobe in “The System Is Down.” But yeah, I was feeling really down on myself that night. In other news, we were rating girls on some sort of “hot or not” website. I’ve never seen so many misshapen breasts in my life. Women–please. If they look like deflated balloons, get a job at the circus. Don’t take pictures of yourself and post them online. *smacks with newspaper* Bad saggy boob lady.

In the lounge when I was hanging out with Josh and that other guy that annoys me I wanted to say “Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes, it’s awful,” but I knew nobody would get the reference. They hadn’t read No Exit either. They don’t know the language of boredom. They can never conquer it. I guess I’ll go to my house and grab my movies. I’ll pay a few dollars in gas to not be bored all day.

> Depeche Mode - Personal Jesus

O.M.F.G. Fucking bloody hell. I DRAGGED myself out of bed this morning at 8:30 a.m. (APOCALYPTICALLY EARLY) to go to my eye appointment after a night of drinking that wasn’t over until almost four. So I get there, and the receptionist bitch is giving me the little “I’m going to fuck up your day” smile. Her hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in a week, and she’s wearing this top that’s so low cut, I can see her in all her wrinkled saggy-titted glory.

“Oh, I haven’t been able to verify your insurance. I’ll call them.” So I sit down and she gets them on the phone.
“Are you a full-time student?”
“I was last semester.”
“Well, your dad’s insurance won’t cover you unless you’re a full-time student. You can have him talk to his employer about it.”

Yeah. Like that’s going to do any good, bitch. Why don’t you go choke on a cock.

I fucking swear. So now I’m up at 9:56 a.m., this ungodly hour. I must go to sleep for an hour or so. But I’m up. I’m fucking up now. Couldn’t the inept bitch leave a fucking message on the machine? God.

But anyway, last night was pretty fun. Needless to say with Joe being here and me not having to drive, there isn’t any alcohol left in the house. It’s sad…I feel like I’m cheating Ben or something, I feel like he’s trying to get away from the drug culture of people like Stephie, but he’s just exchanging one drug for another. Lame. But I must go to sleep. Now.