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2001-05-09 1:15 a.m.

just a short entry he says, just a few minutes he says... feh!

I should be sleeping or studying electricity and magnetism now, but... I'm not. Maybe instead of writing a whole diary entry, I'll go do one of those things. The main reason I'm adding something right now is because that darling girl, the cutest of the cutest informed me that it's been 11 days since I updated. Well, here's a little meat for you before I go do physics in my sleep (before waking up at some ungodly hour to try and catch up on study before class).

I've been keeping a dream diary for the past few years, where I write down my notable dreams- the ones that don't break into pieces when I wake up. It's like trying to pick up a spider web. Anyway, looking over these dreams, I've noticed two big themes. The first is killing monsters. I often find myself slaughtering the foul denizens of some rank pit in my dreams. The second is pre-apocalypse/cataclysm type dreams. I have a lot of dreams where the world as we know it is about to end, or an invading army is about to raze the place I'm living in, and I have to get to safety as quickly as possible. What does this mean? Send me your psychoanalyses!

The last few weeks I've been listening to Surfer Rosa by The Pixies and Battle of Los Angeles by Rage Against the Machine over and over again. I've also been putting a Cure song called Treasure (from Wild Mood Swings) on permanent repeat...

Besides this physics class, I'm also taking Quantitative Analytical Chemistry (sound intimidating? it is- but then, I haven't had a chemistry class that wasn't absolutely grueling since my freshman year- this one has extremely stringent standards for accuracy and precision, plus spreadsheets out the wazoo) and scuba diving (but is it really worth the cost? There's a good chance I'll never do it again... But my healthy paranoia requires me to learn as many miscellaneous skills as possible (though I can't fix a car or hack into a computer, both of which seem to me to be gaping holes in my skill repertoire), and this is next on the list. Plus I love water, and while most people dream about flying, I dream about breathing underwater, so I thought I should make the dream reality, y'know? But scuba diving kinda seems like a pastime for people with too much money, though- a yuppie sport, y'know?).

Whew. That last paragraph was one sentence, technically. You'll tell me if I bore you, mmkay?

I still can't believe she didn't like Snow Crash. I mean, what the hell? What is there not to like? Why not just stab me right between the shoulder blades? sheeyit.

(and if she didn't like that, god knows to what depth her hatred for The Diamond Age would extend... sigh...)

The toilet paper we're using right now advertises itself as "embossed marathon bathroom tissue." hmm. When I think of "embossed," I think of gold plaques and silver trophies, not disposable shit rags. And what's up with the use of the word "marathon?" Is this toilet paper for use when running 26 miles and 385 yards, or is "marathon" a reference to a particularly long and arudous session on the Porcelain Throne? hmm.

greyarea's favorite euphemism for diarrhea- "the green-apple squirts"

Well, this ended up being a full-sized entry. (Ye gods, let me get up in time to study, or at the very least let me make it to class at eight...)

waiting for these memories to begin,