All right, it's really hot and humid in my room, so I stripped down to my skivvies.
Then my contacts start bugging me. That means I have to go to the bathroom and take them out, and that's as far as possible in this suite. Plus there are kids sleeping and I'm in my boxers. I decide to take them out right here.
So, I reach into my toilettry bag and fish around for my contact stuff. Suddenly I realize my finger hurts and I remember that a moment before I'd touched something metal briefly. Safety razor. Damn. I pull my finger out and it's already bleeding a lot. Yuck. The safety razor has a couple good sized chunks of my right ring fingertip in it. God damn it.
I don't have any band-aids or bandages, but I do find a wife beater I don't like wearing anymore (too small) so I rip it up and wrap my finger. And it looks really cool. I think my zombie make up will include this.
Of course, it makes my fingertip huge, so typing is somewhat more difficult. And it's already soaking through.
Damn.

Is it too late in life to change my favorite color? I can't imagine it could be, I'm only 21. It's not too late to change my major or my gender, color can't be that fixed early on.
The only reason I'm asking is that I'm a blue person. I've been blue for a very long time, before then it was green for about half a year and purple for about half a year and nothing memorable before that. But blue ever since. Now, though, I'm starting to notice that red is looking pretty good. It can be very emotive and exciting, but at the same time sensual or soothing. It's a lot of fun.
So, if it's OK with the universe and the powers-that-be, I think I'd like to convert.
OK? OK.
Here we go.

Sunday. Noon. Hung over.
I pull into a Shell and park next to a shirtless hillbilly in an abused truck with a natty beard and a cough that sounds like his lungs are full of pudding. The reek of fermenting shit bites my nostrils and I choke back bile. The stench reminds me of camping at Lake Azicahos and the latrine we dug there, except worse. This is the foul shit of too much alcohol and meat and cigarettes.
I look under my hood. My car needs coolant. Although the temp gauge is fine, the reservoir is empty. I decide to give it some time, see if maybe it's in the engine and will flow back to the reservoir as it cools. I go inside the store, look around for a bit. Buy a map of Charlottesville and a notepad. Think about smoking. It might be a good way to pass the time, but I'm scared to after last time. So I write in the new notepad before I check the coolant, blast some music and ease on down to Charlottesville.

Krister's Blog: Now with comments! Not just for you snooty Live Journal posers anymore.

Also, here is an account of traveling I've gone through for my summer job. idtravels.blogspot.com. Enjoy more than I have. Although, it's really not such a negative experience.

Tim is no longer living with us next year. So we gotta find a new roommate and soon. Tim's not living with us because of any spite or dislike or distrust or whatever, he just doesn't think our lifestyles (those of the rich and famous) will coincide with his (the self-proclaimed Neat Freak). And he is, I can definitely see him being miserable in the apartment. So, his move will probably save our friendship.

And that's cool.

Plus it solved the dilemma Tristyn was having with housing, as she is now his roommate. At the apartment Ben and Tim used to share. Rachel is leaving for Caitlin's house and Karen's looking for a place of her own. Or maybe it's with Kevin? I don't know.

Almost done packing and cleaning. Just gotta put my clothes in their final spots, vacuum, wash the walls a bit and drop off one more load of crap at Max and Derek's. Which is soon to be Krister, Jeremy and Ben's.

Neat.

It's the end of the quarter. Which is good. It's been a long year, and I've had a lot of stress. But now, things are quieting down. But this last weekend wasn't without it's woes.

Tristyn and I are officially broken up. I'm depressed, but I saw it coming about a week and a half ago, so I've been coming to terms with it for a while. We're still friends and I still love her, and I think she still loves me, but she can't have a relationship right now. Which I can accept.

It still hurts, but I'm not so crushed. Most of that happened when we started our break.

My car is broken. I need to fix the CV Joint. Probably before I can drive home. So that's no good.

My bike got stolen. It was old and didn't work completely right, but dad gave it to me. It had sentimental value more than anything else. I imagine it left with someone, and that's why it was stolen at the end of the year.

But it's the end of the year. That's cool. I'm looking forward to the summer. I get 7 weeks of work at $500 a week. Plus training and some compensation for that. The job starts the 12th. Of June. I'll be done by August and that's cool because that is when my lease starts on the house that Ben, Tim, Jeremy and I are renting. That means I can get started on thesis early on, get actors, get locations, get rehearsing. Get a job, I'll need an actual job next year, not sportszone. Something with a schedule.

So that's that.

What's yer dialect, son?

Or daughter.

Surrogate Mother Gives Birth to Quintuplets for Free

This is absolutely wonderful, I think. A complete stranger agreed to give birth to a child for this couple. She agreed to morning sickness. She agreed to back pain. She agreed to back pain, labor and episiotomes. Originally she agreed to do it for money, but when she found out she would be carrying five children, she declined the money. That's gorgeous. She knew the parents would need the money and turned it down.

It's fantastic that someone would agree to bring more love to the world, especially when you are not directly involved. She's doing this for strangers. Random people she's agreeing to help. She made them a family and demanded that she get no compensation for it. She suffered so that they could love.

It's kinda like Jesus, but I think this might be better. Teresa Anderson is not the daughter of God, no one expects her to undergo such physical duress, she gained 80 pounds, and yet she did. She did it for the joy of bringing love around. The Jesus anecdote would have been much better if he was just a really nice guy who people killed and then God was like, "Hey, ya bunch of mangy fuckers, this is my son you've just now killed. All he wanted was for you folks to love each other." Or if God adopted him...which I think is brought up in a Kurt Vonnegut novel...Anyway, it would be a better story that way. More effective.

Also, check out the line, "Teresa Anderson had been carrying more than 18 and a half pounds of baby."

Found David Byrne's Blog. Cool stuff.

David Byrne is, in my opinion, one of the greatest artists of our time. He's remarkably talented at everything he does, from music to movies to writing, it would seem. I hear he even does some painting or something. There's probably a link on the Blog.

I propose my thesis on Friday. I've reread my proposal and found some grammatical errors, but I've already passed out the packets to the people who'll be responding. Oh well. Man is mortal, I'm still young. My movie won't be flawless, it'll be close. A surplus of commas in my proposal is a non-issue at this stage. I'm sure they'll understand.

If not, fuck 'em.

Nick read the previous draft of my proposal. I think he liked it. I like it, that's what really matters.

It's easier to be around Tristyn. I still feel in large part like we're dating, but we're seeing each other less. I get to flirt with her again. That's a lot of fun. This break is feeling a lot like the time before we started dating. The time before we shared a kiss after a party. The time before we went to the Pizza Cafe and split a pizza and talked about our families. It feels like the time we stayed up all night poking each other and giggling. It feels like the night she stuck a post-it note to my back that said, "I'm cute only when I breathe."

That note is stuck to my computer right now. I can look at it and smile and think of her. There's nothing ugly about it. It's her and it's me.

This is sorta how we started dating:
Tristyn and I were designated drivers at a party at The Annex. I had my tape recorder and we flirted a wee bit. That was actually the night I decided it might be worth while to flirt with her.

Then she came to one of our pre-screening-sign-up fiestas. We flirted a lot that night. Poked each other with pillows and fingers and laughed and sat near each other and tried to make like it wasn't a big deal we were close. 'Oh yeah,' we tried to say through body language, 'this is how I behave with all my friends.'

Then there were other parties, always flirting. It was a lot of fun. One night at Max and Derek's she drew a "Belly Button Monster" on her stomach with a sharpie. It was terrifyingly endearing. That's the night of the post-it note. That's the night I drove her home and walked her up to her apartment. Jeremy came up, too. He said he, "had to use the bathroom." So he rushed off to do that and Tristyn and I hung out in her foyer area and she said to me she 'quite fancied' me. And then she asked what we should do next.

And I kissed her.

I don't think we arranged for a date that night, but it wasn't too long after that we went to the Pizza Cafe.

By and by Jeremy came out and we went our separate ways, grinning all the while.

Ha! I love her. I still do.