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10/31/2002 entry: "GAAH"
For crying out loud, I said I'd be up late, but it's after 11:30pm already.
My back really hurts. I think it was from the way I was lying down earlier. Fucking hell.
Okay, not such a good night so far.
I want some goddamn coffee and possibly a breakfast sandwich from dunkin donuts. Yeah, those things are as bad as McDonalds and Burger King. I can't explain my strange attraction to them.
SARAAAA WHERE ARE YOUUUUU?? CARVING PUMPKINS WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND YOU SAY? Ha.
Yeah, I didn't carve a pumpkin this year. If I did though, I think I might do it the Strong Mad way. Just fucking punch in a couple eyes and a mouth.
Tomorrow's Halloween. I wish I could be just a tiny bit more excited, but it's tough. But, maybe experience it tomorrow will make it better.
Yuck, I have to take digital photos of two studio classes tomorrow. Well, not yuck about taking pictures... yuck because I'm nervous because people are going to be staring at me because I have a camera. I used 'because' WAY too many times in that sentence.
But, I'll just snap a few quick shots, and be out of there in time to have some dinner before work. And fine out exactly what I'm doing tomorrow night. Yes.
I hope Alex doesn't mind if we don't go to that coffeehouse Friday... maybe me and her can for a little while, but I'm sure I'll end up wanting to hang out with Sara and Nia, whatever they're doing. I think Sara mentioned shopping for Vic. It's not high-quality entertainment- well, wait, Sara is pretty entertaining to be honest. Okay well it's not exactly a wonderful cultural activity that's going to enrich our minds, but that's what school is for. And I've had plenty of that already anyhow.
What's your take on Cassavettes?
So, I leave you with a quote from an email from my mother, and a statement that my patience is wearing thin and I may end up calling Sara and yelling at her in about half an hour or so.
"Be happy. I love to see you smile. You have such a beautiful smile. "
Geez, I even sound depressed in my emails. How come I can never tell what emotions I'm conveying to people? And how in the hell did my mom know I wasn't smiling when I wrote her back? Goddamn.