Good... And Good for You

people whom i've sometimes wished would read my blog, until i actually think about it and decide it's better off that they don't... my mom jacque cousteaux (even though he's dead. i think. if he's not, he's like 133 years old, in which case why isn't he on the news?) donahue (even though he might be dead too) pauly shore (even though his career is dead) doogie howser (even though he's fictional) james one of the old members of menudo (but not ricky martin) leonard nemoy somebody french

if my blog were a sitcom, it would have to have a little off topic, pre-credits, opening blurb scene. i've been going to the gym pretty religiously this week and i've been trying to eat a v. high protein lunch for energy purposes. i'm not really sure what "high protein" involves. steak, obviously. and eggs. and hopefully mexican food because really that's what i've been eating for lunch. i haven't lost any weight yet. roll opening credits. and now to the point. i thought i knew how to get along with people, but lately i don't feel up to the task. my roomate's friends come over pretty consistently. Saturday her sister wore a t-shirt that said, "i [heart symbol] buns." and the whole group of them kept on calling each other's cell phones and leaving the message,"you're such a fag" over and over and over. i sat in the kitchen and sketched a picture of an eye. this guy came into the retail store to buy a

when i moved into my new apartment complex, i found myself never intending to date again. ever. i momentarily lack the mental resiliency and emotional aptitude which dating requires. (and when i say i "momentarily lack" it, i mean that i never had it.) there have been signs. sign, the first... yesterday morning i killed a suspicious looking spider (the task involving 1. 409 and, 2. jumping up & down and squealing). when it mysteriously reappeared on my bedroom wall that night i was fully convinced i was about to be the target of some renegade arachnid vendetta. sign, the second... while filling in at the retail store- which, by the way, is completely boring and i suggest you never do it- i started to wonder if i was the mall equivalent of the ape exhibit at the zoo. i gawked back at my audience hoping to see someone i knew and had the strangest sensation that everyone looked familiar. is it possible that i've met every single person in utah valley? that i've been

there's a stray cat that owns my apartment complex. i hate this stray cat. me. the lover of all animals. and most inanimate objects. kat. i hate it. and i feel completely horrible about it. so yesterday, when i opened my door and it ran in and meowed by my fridge, i made myself not resent it's unabashedness. instead i named it william and threw a 4 day old egg roll outside for it. but truth be told i did resent william. jerk. i don't get it. at the villa there was a stray cat and i loved it. there was also tony and that crack addict guy, and i didn't have a problem with them either. where did my good will, and easy goingness, and love of mankind go? or... you know, animalkind, or whatever. sigh... you know what i'm getting at.