My day actually turned into a really fun one. I was with my fun lab partners, and we spent most of the time joking about how I had killed my old lab partner and exchanging funny gifs on our phones.
We did get a good amount of studying done though, I think I’m going to rock the metamorphic rocks.
Whoa, I have been doing way too much algebra. I saw the two “rock” words and my brain immediately spat out “oh my God, they are equivalent words! They cancel out! Now to factor them….what’s a letter that multiplies to K and subtracts to O…”
Yeah. I’m an algebra nerd for the next year. Deal with it.
I was going to get to sleep really early and work on some of my homework in the morning, but then I got started talking to Terry about our master plan for the next few months and various other subjects (we shared our Google Calendars so we can see when the other is busy or free or at work, etc.)
And then I had this urge to write Mario the letter that I had been meaning to write him for ages. I don’t know… I feel like it’s too harsh. I’ll read it again in the morning.
As I was typing the last line, iTunes went silent. I had listened to every single Dresden Dolls song while I was writing it.
I keep listening to “Bank of Boston Beauty Queen” and thinking of the guys I dated when I was sixteen. Or the sixteen-year-old I dated later. It’s weird dating all older guys and then you are an older guy and the tables are turned.
And it’s strange when you turn 18–this magical number where you can’t date anyone that’s 17 any more. I don’t know what kind of age group I’m attracted to…I do tend to date younger guys, Terry’s 19, I guess ’cause everyone over 25 that still dates is either jaded as hell (Mark) or living a complete and utter fantasy (A.).
Is every gay guy robbed of all hope on their 25th birthday? I wonder.
The whole song is about going back to places you used to hang out as a teenager, and it’s totally my life. Every day going to work I drive by the high school Kelly went to. I sometimes think about what Kelly and Becky (in their 17 year old selves) are doing right now.
Does nostalgia just get worse as you amass more and more memories?
And 3 a.m. rolls around…just like…well…clockwork. So much for getting up early.
I’d rather write than sleep anyway :)
Oh, I wanted to write about this…remember how I always dream about zombies?
Well last night I had this dream that I was in this barn and my friends and I had made this platform that was above where the zombies could reach…but it was only like seven feet high…not a big enough safety margin for me, and someone ran in and said “Look! They’re all dead! It’s over!” so we lowered the platform and went out into the village. There were dead zombies all starved to death everywhere and all the live people were celebrating in the streets. My friends and I were overjoyed and ran out to celebrate.
That’s like…never happened.
I think that the zombies are related to my fear of AIDS. And since I’m negative (just got my results a last week) maybe my subconscious thinks I’m out of the woods.
What is it with the age thing, man? I have not once in my life EVER gotten involved with anyone my age or younger. The closest in age to me was two years older, and the furthest away was 10 years older.
Except that one-nighter when I was 18 with a kid who turned out to be 15… (Hangs head in shame…)
Officer! He seemed so mature!