| [ |
mood |
| |
 peaceful |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Alanis Morissette "Mary Jane (acoustic version)" |
] |
Hello, world-insde-my-DJ. Guess I shouldn't be surprised, but I can't believe it's already Thursday... it's not like I really keep track of days or anything during the summer... as a matter of fact I prefer to eliminate the confusion of having to remember all those pesky days and just call Monday thru Saturday "Mega-Day," and then Sunday gets to be its own entity because it sucks so much. Sunday is decidely un-mega. Ah. Love the ridiculous DJ-openers.
Anyway, what the fuck is up, y'all? Naturally my summer days are as listless and lovely as you'd expect, topped with some delectable hours at Chipain's where I still don't know the code for pickled cucumbers. It's weird how monotonous, repetitive work like Chipain's is really the kind of work I get stressed about. Like the whole procedure of... remembering to tear the coupons, stickering the milk, voiding shit, doing house charges, whatever, to me it all just adds up to one giant clusterfuck for my neuroses to get worked up about. Meanwhile, something like an essay or work involving actual intelligence I don't stress about nearly as much, even though I have just as big a chance of fucking it up. However, Chipain's has been getting more second nature to me... which might mean I'm being infiltrated by Georgia and her obvious scheme to brainwash Lemont. I really wish I could work with Jena again... because I'm generally not that comfortable conversing with the other Chipainsies because they're so... townie and twenty-five years older than me. They're all nice and everything, but none of them have similar interests as me. I can't picture myself getting into a debate with like... sweet old Dorothy about our favorite one-hit wonders. That ho probably likes "Mambo No. 5" anyway. I also babysat this week for an astonishing 10 hours. Judy needs to drop off that fat check, that's all I know. I love how babysitting Eric is a goddamn joke. Word, Judy, he is going into sixth grade. Eric seriously holes himself up in his room, plays video games for hours, and I sit in his living room eating up Game Show Network. The deal couldn't be sweeter. I get too used to the cushiness of the job though. Like when Eric will want lunch made for him, I seriously say out loud, "Ugggh, I don't want to get up." LOUIS. IT IS A JOB. I am so cut out for the working world. First Judy, then Chipain's, next The Daily Iowan, then graduation, and then... probably back to Chipain's. Blueprint for life? I think so.
Also, last night I went with my family and a gaggle of St. Patrick's peeps to the White Sox game where my brother Greg and his choir sang the national anthem. Corey, Rachel, and Sarah all couldn't come with so I brought my actual best friends Alanis, Kylie, Madonna, and Discman with me. I was, first of all, extremely tired on the bus ride to the game because of the cute four hours of sleep I got the night previously. You can thank my 8AM shift at Chipain's yesterday for that. So I slept with my head against the window on the way there which apparently was the stupidest idea of all time because I woke up with a huge bump on my head. It was like sleeping with an abusive boyfriend. Anyway, the game was excellent... the Sox came back from being down 6-1 to win 12-6. Greg and his choir were their wonderful, angelic selves, no surprise. There were other kids with us I knew or at least were familiar with, particularly Kaitlyn Baffoe and Katie Scott (who I didn't know was Katie Scott until the game was about over). For the most part I jammed to my headphones with some occasional glances at the scoreboard. I actually had a good time... nice to sit back and enjoy something I usually don't do. Later night I wrangled up Rachel, and she came to my house to hang out with me, Mark, and my cousin Tyler who was staying with us. We watched more than our share of Real World/Road Rules: The Inferno II (okay, could that whole cast suck a little more? Who keeps inviting Veronica and Tonya back?). Rachel and I went off into impression-mode for awhile, had some laughs, and then the night came to a close. Overall, HOT. Not to mention Rachel is vomiting like crazy lately. I think she thinks her bulimia is better than mine. What a bitch.
Everything's going pretty smoothly lately if not nonchalantly, of course. Ran into PT the other day... looks like possibilities are abounding in that area now. I was ashamed to bring him up to Rachel the other day because I've proclaimed so vehemently my disgust with that situation. Guess disgust doesn't cancel out just how fucking bored I get. There's also this Scott guy from Iowa I've been chatting with. And I like him; he's intelligent, sexually candid, AIM-savvy... pretty up for whatever. He's interesting and hot. There they are, my two favorite qualities in people.
This week I bought Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill Acoustic at Starbucks, the only place the album is available. The music retail industry is furious about it because they don't get the album to sell until late July... as if they really need the fucking cd in order to keep business going. Anyway though, the album was released to supposedly commemorate and ackwnoledge the ten years of growth between the time of the album's original release and now. I really enjoy the album, mostly because I'm just a huge Alanis fan and love when she releases anything, but I also like some of the new arrangements a lot. My favorite three are "Ironic" (which has never been one of my favorite Alanis songs), "Mary Jane," and the acoustic revision of the secret track. I don't think it's an essential purchase, but that doesn't mean I haven't been listening to it nonstop. The rest of my cd collection is so tired right now. I need to burn the cd for a couple of peeps as well... maybe I should start that. Watch, it turns into Kimmie with the Illuminating the Future DVDs. I better do it tonight.
I'm gone for now... I'll be back soon of course. So don't kill yourself! Ha. Heart. Love y'all, thanks for being, listening, responding, the whole thing. Big, big high five.
Laying out on the lawnchair, xoxo,
Louis.
|