it's being taken care of

I don't know how Nathanael is doing... but aparently he checked himself into the hospital on Friday after experiencing drug-induced paranoia and hallucinations. I have to give the hospital a code to talk to him, but in the five times I tried yesterday I couldn't get through. He's not a teenager any more, and I have to stop feeling sorry for him.

He has to stop feeling sorry for himself.

I'm in the library right now, at twenty past nine in the morning. That means I was awake at seven thirty.

::trumpet blast::

I have accomplished an early-rise.

This cross-dresser is looking at me. He's about 43 years old, with a fat, square jaw, and tiny, pointy titties, and his tag is hanging out of the back of his shirt.

I'm ususally willing to call cross-dressers "she", but this one doesn't deserve it. Even if it is working in the library.

I know my titties are tiny but at least they're round.

Today I'm wearing a sweater for the first time this season. The leaves haven't yet turned, but I hear Bloomington in the fall is to die for. I wish I had a cozy, comfortable, lover to go apple-picking and pumpkin carving with. But I don't want a new lover. I wish I had one that had been around for seven years or so.

I hope I just wake up one morning and realize I'm married, as though it had always been that way.

Zach and Mandy called me last night, and she said something about not being able to clearly remember her life before Zach. I almost made an off-sides comment about Jon, but instead was overcome by the strains of...

...it's like I started dreaming on the night we kissed, and I can't remember what I ever did before... what would we do baby, without love? sha-na-na-na

Dating is not a state in which two people find themselves, it is a third entity which takes over two otherwise decent human beings and then mutates them. That third entity is a cunt. Is a sonuvabitch. Is a pragmatic, oportunistic, lying, incindiary fuck.

But I have no aversion to falling in love.

cause there ain't no nothin we can't love each other through... what would we do, baby, without love? sha-na-na-na

I purchased the ticket for NY yesterday! I'll be there for Halloween, and I'm ecstatic. I think that's going to be ther first hug I get since Mom and Tello left last August.

My cell phone bill was huge this month, so I left it at home. I'm only calling at night now. I live on a budget.

My power bill said I used 3,000 kilowatts of power per day, which is nonsense. I called and was like, "this is a one-bedroom apartment with no washer and dryer in the mildest month of the year, half of which I wasn't even living here... I'm not paying $172."

You know what kills me? Red headed goth chicks. The ones too scared to dye it black. They're right up there with people who have bits of toothpaste dried in the corner of their mouth, or deoderant on the hem of their shirt. The earlier in the morning the more you will find the latter two. Goth chicks can occur at any time.

Well, I'm off to go write a critical response to connectionism as a form of neuro-modeling.