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.

i keep on finding myself in weird juxtaposed conversations. nobody is making sense today. usually i'd blame it all on my lack of an attention span or on my habitual spacing out at a job which can recently be described as nothing short of yawn worthy, but this morning i've really been trying to pay attention so i don't think i should take any blame for these dada-esque situations. what would i give for a nice, linear, logical conversation right now? man, what wouldn't i give?

i have this mad desire to write a blog, the problem being that i have absolutely nothing of nonimport to write and i vowed long, long ago that i would never write anything important on this blog since i don't think i'd like proof that all my "important stuff" really isn't important at all.

my entire life is contained within my car... from bedding to clothes to the bright orange stuffed animal i rescued from apartment 35. i'm kind of a vagrant. and so i went to salt lake and hung out with my parents. and slept a lot. and watched "back to the future". during which my dad turned to me and said, "i bet you think i was a huge geek in high school." to which i responded, "no, i never thought that." the whole truth being that i've never postulated anything about my high school dad. which i feel kind of bad about. because the even wholer truth is that i often do think about what people must have been like as teenagers. i have this whole theory that ben affleck never went on a date in high school. he was one of those kids who, after getting rejected for the 40 billionth time said, "someday i'll be famous and then you'll ALL PAY! [insert maniacal laughter here]" and then he did get famous and that's why he's a huge cr...

"where are my flip flops? shoot! i swear, i just saw them. i'm already so late for work. for the love! where are they? em, have you seen my flip flops? gaaaa!! i hate my life!!! where are they?? ... oh. i'm wearing them."