jump into a cold shower, demons can't take that shit


i just reached the end of a loaf of bread i’ve been working on for a week. on one hand i am proud of myself for using a whole loaf of bread before i had to throw it away. on the other hand, i wish i would have made something less gross than the half-melted cheese and leftover sausage thing that is currently sitting awkwardly on my desk. i really don’t want to eat it. if i could invent something besides a viable hover board, it would be breakfast pills.

the cheese tastes like cherry cough syrup. that shouldn’t happen.

i think i might be getting a sore throat. see what i said yesterday, about disaster. if the disaster is going to be a cold, i can deal with that.

this morning my good earth tea bag says: “wait for that wisest of all counselors, time.” apparently pericles said that. the organic version of good earth tea has a lot less variation in their sage tea bag quotes than the non-organic version. i think i’ve gotten this “wisest of all counselors” thing like ten times just in this box. option b of course is that pericles is really trying to tell me something. sadly for him, if that is the case, i don’t believe in ghosts. though if you were going to pick someone to smash in the head over and over again with a message of “calm the fuck down for two seconds,” i would probably be a fine choice. i even woke up this morning thinking i should chill out a little bit. well, actually i woke up nervously rehashing multiple conversations i’ve had in the past couple days, sort of like i always do, trying to figure out what i really should have said and thinking about what a disgrace i am at interpersonal communication. this is how i usually wake up and how i go to sleep, contemplating the complete failure of the english language. but this morning, after lying there for a half an hour trying to have some sort of epiphany, i decided that i was over it, at least for a few minutes on november 13, 2007 so i could get past the 6:30 am confidence black hole. i mean, the only person who really spends any time analyzing the weird shit that comes out of my mouth is me, right? and words are just a SMALL part of communication, right? and even the rest of communication is not that big of a deal. i mean, not in a scientific sense. if i look like an idiot 95% of the time, whatever. maybe i am an idiot. people that are my friends don’t care. right?

anyway, it was enough to let me read about drugs in baltimore for awhile and start formulating the funny/sexy/sad manifesto. though i am still thinking about my friend mark telling me the other day on gchat (an even less perfect form of communication than speech, unless you are drunk and then it is THE MOST PERFECT) that i am “the league leader in boy problems.” he would know. i have had an unrequited crush on him since the first day i laid eyes on him in anna mckee’s bedroom in may of 2000. i remember it. though to be fair, over the same period of time i’ve had a lot of other unrequited love affairs. (i’m saying you aren’t that special mark. no one has been that special after trent hull in sixth grade and my original broken heart.) in fact, i haven’t really had any REQUITED love affairs. ever. maybe for like six months of my senior year of high school. and that’s a big maybe. i think the whole problem might be a function of too many lucy maude montgomery novels as a child. in my favorite series, emily of new moon, the one i read over and over again, staying up all night sobbing, emily and her true love are in love THEIR WHOLE LIVES but they can never get it together and then like the last chapter of the last book, after teddy (the true love) has spent years as a heartbroken painter somewhere in europe, and emily has surrendered herself to the life of an old maid poet on an isolated farm in canada, they finally admit to each other, while gazing up at cassiopeia, that they have always been in love. they are like 30 or something. i mean, OLD.

this all seemed reasonable to me.

actually, i think the issue could be a mix of emily of new moon romanticism and a tree grows in brooklyn realism, which came along a little later, middle school instead of elementary school. in that book, as you may recall, francy meets her truest love one day, a soldier in town for one night only. they hit it off big time, love-at-first-sight-style, and then it’s time for francy to go home and the soldier asks her to stay the night. francy, being well-raised, decides to preserve her virtue and goes home. they promise to, i don’t know, get married or something and write every day, and he leaves town. later, she gets a letter from the soldier’s fiancee saying basically stay away from my man. francy’s mother tells her that there are sometimes when it’s okay to not preserve your virtue, like for true love, and francy later ends up marrying some lame ass dude she only sort of likes ALL BECAUSE SHE DIDN’T HAVE SEX WITH HER TRUE LOVE IMMEDIATELY. i love a tree grows in brooklyn. it’s one of my all-time favorite books. and i believed every freaking word of it. so clearly, one can’t be surprised that i have taken that message to heart.

my grandma gave me that book. she should have known better.

one good thing about making kids today tv zombies: at least everyone will have similarly whack ideas about how the world works. at least you can turn on hannah montana and find out what those ideas are. we will all be safer if we keep kids away from novels, believe me. if they want to read, give them harry potter and the babysitters club. it’s better for everyone if our children don’t develop any ways of accurately describing themselves to themselves. they will be better off if they live their lives like an episode of saved by the bell. for some of them, the sociopaths mainly, it will work out and they can be successful married ceos and stuff. for the others, who will spend their time trying to figure out why they don’t feel at all like they are supposed to feel and why nothing ever makes sense: that’s why we invented crack cocaine, hello! there is a population problem anyway. and not enough jobs or homes. we can’t have too many people walking around feeling like part of society.

that’s right. i just said it. harry potter and tv lead to street drugs. what are you going to do?

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