Monday, August 26, 2002

first day of class

Get me away I'm dying. Get me away I'm dying

That is what is going through my head right now, that Belle and Sebastain song, I have listened to it on repeat throughout the day and it is all I can think of to say, all I can muster when faced with this text box. The library is finally open, I can finally sit down at a computer, spend some Q.I.T. (quality internet time), can finally update this diary, and all I can think to say, or all I can say is Get me away I'm dying. There is not really too much thinking going on with the whole thing and that is part of the reason that this entry has this stall of an introduction, a stall that will hopefully set me into some sort of flow so I can talk about my life, Florida, being back at school, a certain boy, and any other pertinent things, perinent with respect to things that serve as the aggregate of petty and non-petty things equaling the life of Gun. The sky is big in Florida, it is my favorite thing about Florida, the thing that every afternoon sets me into a flurry of little kid awe at the universe, at how fucking beautiful this entire system is. Walking to the library from our house, Bonnie, Jamie and I sang the line Get me away I'm dying sporadically and talked about how amazing Florida skys are, how they are fucking big. Fucking enormous.

Enough already, let us get into it, let us get the ball rolling, let me tell you about my life (and maybe about yours if we are both lucky). Those tend to be the diaries that I love to read, the ones that straddle the border between detailing every person encountered, every little thing done, and those that are vague enough, silly enough to say something other than all of that without being so annoyingly vague with 8 million codenames for everyone in their life that they fear will see their diaries. To do this, we'll use lot of pronouns today, see if that helps. The you to me to we to the I to the he to the she to the goddamn motherfucking us.

Today was the first day of classes. That should mean something more than it does, but sadly today seemed all too routine. I am moved into my new house. My new house that I love to motherfucking death. This seems like the best living situation I have ever been involved with. I am living with Bonnie, with whom I share a stick of deodorent, and so obviously living with her is wonderfully comfortable, and also with Jamie Seerman, who is also proving to be a great roommate. She frequently sings and plays her guitar which I find wonderfully beautiful most of the time. And she is dating Drew, which means I get to talk to him pretty frequently, which is of course wonderful since I think he is a nice boy. Lots of Ungame, chatting with Skip, a not yet ripe grapefruit tree and a not yet ripe orange tree, trees that both, like everything in this world, will be ripe sometime and will provide us with lots of yummy fruit, with more Vitamin C than your vitamin popping heart could ever desire.

I have secured a job working as a dispatcher at the Cop Shop, a mere two blocks from my house, and start training tomorrow night, which has made me a lot less stressed about the state of financial disarray I currently find myself in after not working all summer and having to scrounge for money to pay the upfront costs of getting a house.

Perhaps best of all, I am learning that I don't have to talk to people I don't like, that I can talk to people that I do like, people that seem nice to me. Living off campus helps with this so much. I can walk away from people that bore or annoy me, and go up and talk to people that I want to. I know that may sound like an incredibly pointless thing to say, as if everyone already does that, like duh! obviously don't talk to people that you don't love, but they really don't (or at least I really didn't) - and it is so good to take control of who you choose to interact with, whose words you want stirring in your head, who you allow to influence you in whatever slight or big ways come about in everyday conversation.

And actually I lied when I just said that that taking control over who I interact with thing is "perhaps best of all" about these past days - that was definitly Example A of my tendency to use hyperbole. Best of all would most definitly be that there is this boy named Sean who I like and who is nice and who I had sex with and who I am off to visit right now to see if he wants to watch a movie with Bonnie and I.

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