May 1, 2000. Monday
Well, I'm pretty much all done with school for a while. Actually, only three weeks till my summer class. But that doesn't really count. It's a photography course.
Anyway, home was refreshing. I swear, every single time I've gone back home since going off to college, wether I'm gone fo 6 months or a week, every time I come back something's changed. This time, it's a new bathroom. It's now a cinnamon-gum type color. The bathtub is a lot wider and deeper, which I'm excited about. Not it'll be like taking a bath when I was 6. It's the little things.
Speaking of home, my parents are in Paris right now. I spoke with my mom briefly on Sunday, and she reported that as she was going through the subway tunrstiles, she almost had her purse snatched. Actually, someone had opened her purse and was reaching into it. She was quite amazed how fast they worked. Of course, almost any asians in Europe look completely like tourists, which they are. But they probably seem more like Asian tourists than American tourists, which probably works even more against them. fucking french.So I finished the book Rodzilla sent me, Tuesdays With Morrie, on the bus back from Reading. It was OK i suppose. some good nuggets of wisdom here and there. What bothered me the most was that the author, Mitch Albom, is a sports writer, is writing about Morrie, his old college professor, who's dying of ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease. Well, Albom quotes Gehrig's famous speech, but he misquotes it. I'm starting to doubt whether i really remember it, because you'd think some editor or something would catch the mistake, unless Gehrig made some sort of alternate speech in an evening ceremony or something. Anyway, he basically quotes Gehrig as saying "Today.. I feel like.. the luckiest man.. on the face of the earth," when it should read, "Today, i consider myself... the ...blah blah blah." That was annoying, and I probably let that bother me a little too much. Anyway, the book was a lot about death and how we should live our lives, and such and such. I just can't buy into all that fully, because I think almost everyone will have wise advice about how to live life when you're dying. But still, there were some things here and there that I really thought were actually sort of meaningful. Profound, even.
So the weekend was spent largely dealing with Jed things and Kathy things and Jed and Kathy things. Those kids... I finally told Kathy the whereabouts of this journal. So now she knows. It was inevitable. I can't keep my yap shut. She took exception to the PFC prefix though. but i didn't know any of those NYU people, and I was talking about them a lot, Frequently, if you will, so I thought they needed an entry. And I'm reluctant to give her her own entry just yet. We'll see. Anyway, I was sort of pissed off at her on Saturday night though. She was drunk, and getting on my goddam nerves. But we're ok now. I'm meeting her and Jed after I leave work down at Great Lakes. I'm very excited at the prospect of going out, drinking, and then sleeping till about 4pm, getting up just in time to watch cartoons.
So Rodzilla left France earlier today. Or at least, that was the plan. She's on her way to Italy. She's probably there already. I had a really pleasant conversation with her yesterday before I got out of bed, around 2pm. She'll be in Rome for a week, and then I'm not sure where to. She kept singing this song that was in The Talented Mister Ripley, since it was set in Italy, but that movie gave me the creeps in the standard homo-erotic way, so that was a peculiar way to start my day. But it was a good conversation, which I was hoping for because I won't get to really talk to her that much till she gets back. But she'll be back here in the states in 24 days. I am very, very excited about that. I can do that time standing on my head.
The last few nights, I've had these very troubling dreams. I think they were dreams. They're the closest things I've had to nightmares in a long time. It was really creepy. Saturday night, as I was sleeping, I think, it felt like someone, or something, was walking on top of me. it started on my face, then down my stomach and legs. It happened a few times. I really hope it was a dream. One time when I was at rodzilla's, the first time, in the middle of the night the same thing happened. But that was her dog, coming into the room to investigate this stranger. It scared the shit out of me. It just walked up and down me while I was cowering beneath the covers. Anyhow, no animals were present saturday night. I think. But it seemed very real, and I hate those dreams that are set in the present and in reality. It was like as soon as I fell asleep, I started having a dream that I was in bed trying to fall asleep. It really scared the bejeezus outta me. And then last night, I dreamt I was all fucked up in my room, and I couldn't figure out why I was stumbling around, because I hadn't had anything to drink. So plopped down in bed, and figured out that i was asleep, then I thought I woke up. but when i closed my eyes, i could see all these eerie images like they were being projected on the insides of my eyelids. So then I woke up for real. This is sort of haunting me right now, and i'm giving myself the creeps, so I think I'll move on.
That's about it, really. I did some long-needed updating to a few of the pages of my journal on Saturday night, most notably to the About G-Rock page, which hadn't been updated in a month, and the Nouns Used Frequently by G-Rock page. Nothing big. just a coupla new pictures and some updated info. If yer into that kinda thing.
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