Monthly Archives: December 2001

Well the ordeal of the paper is over with mixed results. The paper is 16-19pgs. depending on what font you use. But do I even call it a paper. More like a mix of two previous papers and some notes. **sigh** well it is suppose to be a rough draft, but with a week before the final paper is done, I;m sure the teacher is expecting more than what I turned in.
Anyway, enough with the paper, at least for most of tomorrow. Suzanne is here sleeping, pissed at me cause I was trying to clean my room. For most of the week, I have been in my room, and the mess had accumulated. Throw in the fact that I was sick, and the room becomes a germ incubator. Lucky, Suzanne doesn’t get sick very easy.
Still, it makes me wonder about us living together. She thought I was crazy cause the room was a mess for a week. I mean all of my clothes were on the ground and you had to wade in it to get out of the room. She might look good naked or clothed, but cleanliness is def. not a high priority with her.
I still need to find a roommate. I have some small leads, but next week, I really need to hit craigslist and find a place.
Threw out the idea of joining the military a while ago. Suzanne seems to be really big on me doing it. I think I should have kept the idea to myself for awhile longer. Well, I not going to join anytime soon, so I guess there is no harm.
Was suppose to be doing laundry, but forgot the buy detergent. Am still kinda wired on caffeine, so not sure what to do. I did take some Nyquil, so maybe that will help me sleep. Think that I will just lay and hold Suzanne and entertain myself in my head
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Well, it is not looking good for our hero…
The RATEX system got fixed and I have been flooded with work. I would just ignore it and dump it on TIm tommorow except…
Something important was lost at the warehouse and the boys will be spending all day looking for it, if they don’t find it, hell will be paid on monday…
Tim is also screwing up all over the place. It’s not that bad, but bad enough that I’m going to have to do something about it.
It seems like all the countig that I have done in the effort to get the inventory correct has gone down the drain and I will likely have to start over again.
Don’t even ask about the paper.
Oh, $4 mocha went down the drain.
Anger is slowly stewing in my stomach (or is it gas?) and I am not a happy camper. Mark is starting to annoy me even though he is my best worker right now. Will send him off to store to get some peace/quiet and to try to figure out all of the paperwork on my desk.
The only good thing is that my MS mouse works on my IMac (It’s the Inellimouse explorer with the extra buttons.) Much better that that hockey puck that I was using. Now, if I can only get a new keyboard to replace this rinky-dink Imac one…
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So the plan is that I use the french toast combo to grease myself up enough to shove the IMac up my ass. Then I reach though the IMac and into my ass and pull out the biggest, prettiest, most intellectually sounding BS that I can find, wipee it off a bit and turn it in, culmulating in the greatest masterpiece of BS in my long college carrer.
Well, time to start lubing…
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LONDON, England (Reuters) — A description of an unwelcome seduction that compares it to a polar exploration has won one of Britain’s least coveted literary prizes — the Bad Sex in Fiction Award.
A steamy excerpt from Christopher Hart’s second novel, “Rescue Me,” topped all comers to win the ninth annual Literary Review prize for the year’s worst fictional description of the sexual act.
Part of the winning passage from Hart’s novel reads:
“Her hand is moving away from my knee and heading north. Heading unnervingly and with a steely will towards the pole … Ever northward moves her hand, while she smiles languorously at my right ear. And when she reaches the north pole, I think in wonder and terror — she will surely want to pitch her tent.”
Texan actress and model Jerry Hall, who recently starred as the seductive Mrs. Robinson in the London production of “The Graduate,” presented Hart with the award at a ceremony Tuesday evening.
Last year’s winner of the tongue-in-cheek prize was Sean Thomas, whose “Kissing England” included the passage: “Aiwa, aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwa aiwaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.”
Copyright 2001 Reuters. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
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I just realize this.
O.K. After a hellish 1hr drive to work which STILL has me shaking, I am almost ready to start the day.
2 Venti White Chocolate mochas to wake me up from the sleepless night that I had
1 French Toast Combo from the Bayside Cafe to put some fuel in my stomach and to soften the 2 mochas
1 bookbag filled with books for my 1969 paper
1 Blueberry IMac with MS Word and a copy of my paper
1 RATEX merchandise system that is STILL down.
1 very cold and dark warehouse office.
1 cordless phone to interrupt me from time to time.
1 portable radio for background noise.
All of that hopefully will equal the greatest 15-20 page paper on the 1968 SF State strike the world has ever seen….or something enough to get me a “C” in the class.
Let the masterpiece begin.
**starts to eat french toast**
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I am so worn out today. Seriously reconsidering staying here at the warehouse and just going home to nap. With the deadline for the paper coming up, I should be at the library trying to find some obscure nugget of info that I can use. But I think that a nap will take presidence over the paper.
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Why is it when it’s just Mark and I working at the Warehouse that is seems like we work harder than at any other time. It’s only 1pm and I am already exhausted. I mean it’s probably because it took me forever to goto sleep, but still, I feel totally exhausted.
I’ve finally figured out what is wrong with me. It’s my bed, or specifily the crack in the bed. I have a double room in the Village that I’m suppose to share with another roommate. But I don’t have one, so what I did was to push the two beds together so than instead of a single or full size bed, I would have a twin/queen size bed. It’s great cause I can stretch out all over the bed. But the crack in the middle of the bed is causing all of my problems. All of my energies are slipping into this crack and that is why hardly anything is getting done in my life, like my paper, my depression, school, sleeping patterns, money, eating. It’s all Feng Shuiey and stuff, so in order to fix it, I need to rearange my room.
Anyways, I am going to stay late at the warehouse in order to try to get focus and get more of the paper done. The theory is that staying in a cold and dark warehouse will somehow motivate me to write and get the stuff done. I know, I know, but hey, I’m desperate here.
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Shit…late for class
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Sitting here naked in my room with just a towel on is doing nothing to help my creative thought process.
Staring at the pills lying on the table to combat my malnutrition, depression, and my cold is doing nothing to help my confidence.
The chocolate bar is stirring up a little bit of emotion, but my queasy stomach is quickly putting together a filibuster against that idea.
The mirror is the only winner in this battle as it laughs at the fat that is rolling off of my arms and body.
The room is weighted down by the darkness and the chaos of clothes, books, papers, and wads of tissue paper that litter the floor
And in the center for this dark, chaotic mess I sit, neither going forwards or backwards, just waiting for nothing; just waiting.
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So the paper is perpetually stuck at six pages, actually more like 4 real pages of info and 2 pages of filler. I’m sure that I could go on with more filler, but the paper is suppose to focus on S. F. and not the 1960’s in general. Bah
Time for more chicken soup and mind numbing OTC drugs.
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