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didn't work on the essay all weekend. nope.

i read a little more, but that don't matter none.

god, i can really hate myself sometimes. hate myself to the point of sabotaging myself, willingly.

the second date was a lot of talk, talk talk talk, drink drink, talk, drink, you're going to kiss me, right, that's why you're standing so close, right, but no, you're not kissing me, therefore the standing close is just now creeping me out a little, and dammit, i'll give you a quick peck goodnight (on the lips, because i'm ballsy like that), and hey, there's an email upon my return home...is that your version of ballsyness my dear?

sheesh.

and for some incredibly strange reason my room smells like fish. there is no fish in this room. though sometimes i wake up with baked tortilla chips on my pillow, let me stress that there is NO FISH.

perhaps i'm getting to be like a guy, and this lack of sex is ruining my concentration or something. it's entirely plausible.

oh man. ran into fred coming out of the subway station, just as i and a friend (who does not know about fred much, a new friend) were entering. he was with his son, who is an unfortunate carbon copy. he is likely a social spazz like fred, and i shuddered to think that he would end up quite the same. then i wondered about someone as spazzy as fred managing to get married, have two kids, be seemingly successful, yet still be a complete spazz.

there's hope for us all, in the end. too bad i hate kids.