the diary of antoine roquentin

I’ve been working on my math homework nearly all night long. And honestly, I’m not making a whole bunch of progress. I finished most of Chapter 10 and some of Chapter 11… but there are huge gaps in my knowledge because she is making us skip every other section because we are totally behind. Behind as in let’s cram three chapters into three weeks.

I tried to do the last section that she assigned, and I just did not get the right answer at all. And I was doing them in class and getting the right answer. Lame.

The final is Wednesday. Well, next Wednesday.. I have a whole bunch of stuff to study on geology final. I think I’m going to totally bomb that. He asks us all these insane vague questions, like “why is this area the way that it is?” And he gives us like twenty different explanations of why it could be like that.

Work wasn’t bad, I’m wearing down the big stack of shit I need to digitize and add to the database.

After work, I went down to the downtown plaza and got my movies back from Terry. We were going to have lunch (his idea), but then he said that he had read my blog and that he wasn’t sure or something like that? So I just grabbed the movies and split.

And, for all of you, a lesson in tact from yours truly: do not go to meet your ex with a huge hickey showing.

So, cat out of the bag, Zero and I are sort of unofficially/officially dating or something. Well, we’re having a lot of sex…and a lot of cuddling, and a lot of talking about literature. He’s interested in literature and good indie films, and we get along well. However, he’s very high-strung, and it can be exhausting, but it’s never boring.

I’ve been hanging out with Sam too, and I haven’t quite figured him out yet. He might drop by for a bit after work (he gets off very late). I’m just really stressed out about my math. If only she would have just given us the Chapter 6 test and gone on to new stuff (nobody understood chapter 6 and it took like a month). I still don’t understand Chapter 6. It has something to do with canceling fractions…or maybe the war of 1812…seriously, I couldn’t tell you.

I was talking with Christen last night and I wasn’t really quite sure what to say about Zero and I. it’s my old pattern… jump to something crazily and then be totally freaked out when the person is very different than my image of them. I don’t know whether that’s really happening… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have any feelings for Terry still, no matter how how irrational they are. And then this huge workload for school is making it so that I really don’t have any time to think about what’s going on.

Maybe overanalyzing things is where I’m going wrong.

Tery called me tonight, sounding distraught, and said something to the effect of that he wanted to pour his heart out to me but that I would write about it. I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I’m not going to promise not to write about anything. Is that unfair? Probably.

Always, I’m of the opinion that everything is better out in the open. I was talking with Sam about that earlier today. He agrees. He says that when he wants to say important things, they always come out wrong. And I’m the same way.

I don’t know… I feel like the book is closed on Terry. My friends ask me “how did you ever even talk to him?” I’ll think really hard about it and have no fucking clue. We would talk a lot about Star Trek, we would ignore each other and stare at our laptop screens, but as for actual talking… all I can remember are arguments.

After it, I cried, I felt like I was going to die for a few weeks, but I got better. While I may not have the superficial comraderie of my Macy’s team, I have friends that I’ve known my whole life (and some awesome new ones) to talk to and work through this.

Interesting side note: Zero actually talked to Terry about a year ago, and all that Terry talked about was dressing in drag. It was a really embarrassing conversation to read…I feel sorry for him. But then again, flip through my archives and you will find some of the most half-baked ridiculousness you’ve seen. Let’s see…I was 19 in 2004. Let’s see…what was I doing this date in 2004.

Secretly I can’t wait to get back to my sad pathetic life in what Becky aptly calls “another dimension.” I can’t wait to work so hard in pursuit of my pathetic little goals. It amuses me to have the “metacognition” (is that the right word?) to know that my life is meaningless and that everything that I tell myself will make me happy won’t. I know that all my hopes are pointless, all my education is pointless. Stupid people will join me in the same place, doing the same thing: rotting in the ground. I don’t know what the point is. All I know is that I’m a machine. I’m a reading machine and a fucking machine and a web design machine and a computer operating machine and a party machine. I hate being a machine. I hate being an animal. I want to be something pure, something real, something that matters…but nothing matters. Nothing will ever matter. Hope is doublethink. God is doublethink. I know what I feel. It’s existence. Sickening…I can feel the blood sucking through my animal veins, my arm…typing…all the muscles and tendons jerking like corpses stimulated with electricity–I can feel my arm…my rib cage…it won’t go away…I can feel all of their existence…it’s so fucking disgusting. There is no escape. There never is any escape.

Well, I was channeling Jean-Paul Sartre… so not a good example, but still.

So I’m having fun and progressing towards my diploma…which I guess is what I’ve been doing all along.

Mario called me tonight… he’s had some kind of concert. I say “some kind of” because it’s Tigan and Sara (the nexus of EEVIL). Everyone that I know that likes them is Evil. Yeah, that’s capital-E Evil to you.

If my credit card isn’t totally overdrawn by Friday, I’m going to go over to Zero’s house and make some Italian food. If I’m there for more than five minutes and we’re not having sex, than I’m going to say that we’re dating. And if we are having sex, then I’ll also say we’re dating.

He even said we should get lube. Do you have any idea what then of the commitment that is?

This is how long Terry and I lasted.

LOOK AT IT!

It’s a barometer of how successful your relationship is. I was on the phone with Brian on my class break yesterday eagerly hashing out the permutations.

“Well I could get a very small bottle and then it would run out and it wouldn’t be bad…”

“Yeah, I did that with Erin and we didn’t even finish it”

“Shit! Shit. Options… well, I could get a huge bottle and then it would be like impossible use it all so it wouldn’t be that much of a measure of success at all. Or would I then have this huge bottle of lube that reminded me of him…OH GOD THE CHOICES!!”

(totally joking, of course)

I don’t know why, but today is all about Luxxury. “Drunk (expensive mix)” rocks.

All right, it’s that time again. What time, you ask?

Quadratic equation time. Oh yeah.

(I also added a post that was hidden before, scroll down if you dare)