I stayed up.

Check it, yo. I thought it would be kind of fun to log my nights events while pulling an allnighter. It was.
This is long, and not as good as I thought it would turn out, but... it definitely has it's high points, boys n' girls.

Wed, Nov 28/01 1:06am
I hope to stay up all night, I think I can really get some things done if I do. Project stuff? Yeah, maybe. But more likely I'll end up upstairs with a pen and paper just writing. Despite earlier conditions of loneliness, I actually had a fairly wistful day.
Ahem. I just restarted. I can't wait for next year, when I spend my tax return on a new computer. That'll be the good stuff. But anyhow, as I was saying. Wistful, yeah baby, yeah. I spent the better part of the second bus ride to school just lost in daydream. This Sublime song, Santaria, has had a nice calmative, tranquilizer kind of effect on me lately. I was listening to the Sublime album I still have borrowed from Alana, and it just puts me in a kind of hazy mood when I really let it. I was day(if you can call 7:30 in the morning 'day')dreaming about... well, for some reason it almost feels embarassing, but what the hell. About... getting it right. About being in the middle of another hapless, innocent situation... maybe at the bus station or something, and out of the corner of my ear hearing this girl bitch. That's how it starts.
Bitching... about looking how she wants to look, and she wants to look punk, but her friends who think *they're* punk... they give her flak for it. They say to her how punk isn't a style of dress, so she shouldn't be bothering with spikes and leather and black and piercings. But why not?, she says. Why the hell not? It's all obviously things I myself would just love to hear. Because that's how I felt in BC this summer. I go there with my spikes and leather and black and piercings and mohawk, and the other punks had their noses up in the air, because they were so punk they didn't *have to* dress like that. Well fuck, I don't *have to* do anything! I like it, because I think it looks good, and because I think it looks good on other people, and I want to attract those people. Fucking pigs.
But yeah, I'm getting offtrack. My daydream... it kind of started there and went through years of time. And I couldn't control my smiling. I had to look out the window constantly to not look like I was completely insane. I hope I can produce that again tomorrow, fuck, would that ever be nice. Hm, I say tomorrow even though it's really today, and even though I do intend to not sleep again until after class. Kind of strange how ingrained on you night is, and the concepts of night vs. early morning vs. 'the next day' are. It's like shitting in your pants. I bet you couldn't do it. Some university did these studies and kept like 20 people in a room, and told them to shit their pants. They offered rewards and everything, but almost none of them could do it. Weird, huh?

Wed, Nov 28/01 4:13am
There's a certain point in the lifespan of popcorn where it reaches utter perfection. That's normally 8 or so hours *after* initial microwave popping. Fuck that's good stuff.
So I just spent the last 3 hours or so talking to a girl who has lung cancer and actually happens to live just down the road from me. Poor kid. She seems really positive, brave and optomistic about everything, and I hope in the end it's all justified. She's going in for surgery on the 5th in Toronto and is going to be stuck there for Christmas with a drip sticking into her chest. Fuck, does that ever rot my heart out. I don't know man, cancer scares the fuck out of me. I mean, one day it's just *there*, and until something goes wrong, you don't know, and when that time comes, it can be too late. That is seriously fucked up, and I most definitely cannot get behind that. What exactly is the hold-up on the cure for that?!
So yeah... new subject. 3 hours to go til my bus arrives. Fuck, for the first time this year I might actually be able to shower before I go to class, rather than the night before. My bed is turning into a war zone, and it won't be long before these sheets are totally unsalvagable. I've now added coffee stains to the bedsheet, fuck am I ever a klutz.
So I had a couple of dreams in my earlier (5-10) nap. The ones I remember most clearly involve A) putting together an entire set of set items in Diablo II and having my character turn into some type of rusted gargoyle looking creature and B) having a set of really weird looking dentures which were partially transparent. I didn't realize why they were partially transparent until I took them out of my mouth and saw that I had some teeth left underneath them. I didn't quite get that, since the teeth I had left were in quite sorry shape anyhow, and were all either ready to be pulled, or just really sunken in or small... which reminds me of this girl at school who everyone thinks is pretty, but has really bad sunken/small teeth which I find absolutely hideous. Man, that was a long fucking sentence. One thing just kept relating to another in my head there. But like I was saying, the dentures & teeth. I had maybe 8 real teeth left, all sunken in, all covered in this yellowish fluid which seemed to be some kind of liquid tartar. Needless to say, it was really really disgusting. Now, I realize dreams about tooth loss are supposed to relate to control, but where do the dentures fit in? An artificial solution to my turmoil? Strange.
I think I'll take a little time and try to look that up, yo. I'll almost surely be back to write some more later, if my typing skills can keep holding up.

Wed, Nov 28/01 5:13am
Mwa ha ha, back again, exactly an hour later. And what a productive hour! I went and checked out that teeth/dentures dream thing, and it was pretty much as I thought. The place I found leaned more to the approach that the dream has to do with other peoples perceptions of me, and the worry associated therein. And I think that has some merit. I mean, I tend to think I'm a good looking guy, and it gets kind of strange and worrysome that others don't tend to always think that way. Or at least, it's not expressed. Not like if you're a good looking girl, anyhow. Good looking girls often get more signs that they're hot than their male counterparts do. Of course, on the flip side of that, some guys will drool over just about anything. Ron the Donut King would be a prime example of such behaviour. Which reminds me, I should call that bastard this weekend or something. Oh, and I should call the theatre later tonight... there's a rehearsal tonight at 6pm, and if I call at 5:30 I should be able to get Cathering and Matt on the line.
On that topic, I'm strangely excited to be going home in the next three weeks or so. Well, more like 'surprisingly' than 'strangely'. See, the highlight of the whole adventure home is going to be the big fucking rocket I smoke with Catherine and Matt. Just because A) I've only smoked pot twice, and don't think it did anything either time, and I know Matt wouldn't skimp on the goods and really *wants* to see me baked and B) how often do you get to participate in illegal behaviour with your old math teacher? Fuck, Catherine's going to be hilarious... considering that we can actually get her into it. I don't see why not though, she's been really stressed recently... if pot gets her away from her chronic suicidal thoughts, I think that's definitely a victory.
I fucking love Tilt, but I can't find their cd's anywhere. But a-ha, the internet! Yep, I just put down 10 bucks total wager on a pair of Tilt discs on Ebay. Fucking right. Same seller too, and I should win both of them, so that equals reduced shipping costs. Seller said they didn't *really* dig the use of Paypal, but fuck 'em, that's *all* I use. Tilt man, yeah. That'd definitely aid the constant bus rides, yeah baby. Uhh... what else was I going to say on that topic? Fuck, I dont' remember. Damn, I'm going to be hilarious by the time psych class rolls around later this morning. Hells yeah. Did I actually just type 'hells yeah'? Oh fuck!
This is kind of fun. Well, more than kind of. I think I'll take all the journal entries for tonight and condense them into a piece of writing for my lunguistics section. That's the section that seems to get the most hits, next to this journal section. Now that leaves me once again wondering who reads all this, and if they take any enjoyment in it. I never know, apart from sparse and mysterious guestbook entries. Seems people don't approve of or appreciate any real poetic writing urges I get though. Pity, that's what I enjoy the most. It's where I'm most raw and naked... which I suppose isn't really a picture people want to have, right?
Oh, I remember now. This one line from the Tilt song 'Lips Tits Hips'... "I got tired of that same old face, so I quit lookin' into the mirror..." Now *that's* fucking logic. I admire that kind of problem solving, you know? That's not sarcasm, I really do. Like, how simple is that?! It's perfect! And it's written and sung by a woman! Simple simple simple! You can break everything down into it's basest parts, and if you can do that, you're fucking set for life, I think. Fuck, maybe there's hope for me afterall. Somewhere there's a secret society of rational, logical females, just waiting for me to stumble upon their lair. Yeah, the song just came on my winamp, yeah!
I'm saying 'yeah' altogether too much. That, and I'm still saying 'daddy' and 'baby' a lot, like some washed-up, moustachioed porn star eating a cheeseburger. My regular time to get up is only an hour and a quarter away, but I'm still having doubts regardless. Oh, I do love my sleep so. I just need to keep reminding myself that it'll be better when I come back from class at 12:30 and just CRASH. It'll be fucking spectacular, it will.
I think I'm going to pick out what I'm going to wear... and then find something else to do too. Be back baby, oh, you *know* I'll be back.

Wed, Nov 28/01 5:53am
Well that certainly didn't take long. I'm referring to both the picking out of clothes and the crashing of the computer. Moving your mouse is not supposed to trigger a fatal exception or system error, dammit. It's this fucking scroll button mouse, I know it. It sucks that I'm hooked on the scroll button, or else I'd probably get half the crashes I do now. Fucking Getright bastards. They're as bad as crank dealers. Haha, crank... I love that word.
But yeah, clothes. I figure I'll wear my newly re-discovered USSR shirt (which was hiding at the bottom of the dirty clothes pile before I did laundry), my pin-zipper jeans (named so because they have safety pins where the zipper should be... because the zipper got torn out), and a cardigan for warmth on the journey to school. Mmmmmhmmmn.
I have about 17 hairs in the middle of my man-boobs trying to start some type of body-hair revolution. It also seems that some of the dark troops stationed around each of my nipples are migrating to join the new flock in the middle ground as well.
'McDonalds Girl'. I'm listening to that song on mp3, by the Barenaked Ladies. I don't know who first wrote it, but it's killer, I love it. And the words could easily be changed to 'Taco Bell Girl', it's surprising how easily. Crazy was yipping at me earlier in the eve. Not Kingdom-Crazy, but ol' Crazy Fruit. It's a shame she never did see Taco Bell Girl, so she could see what I am/I was out for, and that she aint it. I don't remember the list Crazy gave me completely of how she fits into the niche of girls I like, but I remember some of the incorrect ones included skaters, intelligents, and... frig, what else? Well, lets go through the whole list, getting back to intelligents later. Ohh, sane! That was the other thing! But the list, the list! Uh... short red hair, skater/skaterish, intelligent, sane, punk/punkish... if there was other stuff I don't remember. So yeah. Personally, I'm off skaters, just because. I don't like skater guys that much, so I'm crossing off skater girls. I've had nothing but bad or failed attempts at romantic relationships with them. As a personal opinion, which is what *all* of this is, in case you're new to the idea of a personal journal, I either don't approve of her as being intelligent or just don't accept her level, I'm not sure which. And sane... well, that's up for debate too. But isn't everything? I sure hope so. If things weren't... Jack would be a dull boy. Hmn, I started off talking about tbg and ended up being dull. Lets go back to tbg, just for a minute, til I get a warm feeling. Mmm, Taco Bell Girl. So short, such wonderful short copper hair, so nice and polite and considerate. A brainer too. I'm positive she has a thick, juicy brain in that head of hers. I wonder if I'll ever see her again...
I miss my Megan. All the way over in England she is, all alone. Poor girl. It's either 4 or 6 hours difference there, I can't remember. So she's either having some sort of malnutritious lunch right now, or... or it's 10:08, I don't know. Aww, Megan come home!
It's not a flattering feeling when your underwear feels big. It's like your cocknballs are shrinking or something, which is definitely something I *don't* need to happen. Anything more and you won't be able to tell what's in my pants from your average cocktail weenie. At least I don't have monstrous balls too, that'd be a sick and cruel combination.
I just re-read that underwear paragraph. I need serious fucking help.
You know what? There's no way in hell that I could list off all the people who have seen my ass. I've shown my ass to so many people it's fucking unreal. Wow. Probably most recently was Hoover's girlfriend, but that was a while ago. She had a good reaction though. It consisted of screaming, "CHRIS!!" and then him and I laughing like hell.

Wed, Nov 28/01 6:22am
This whole night of writing is really just a descent into madness, I realize that now. As the night/morning has worn on, I've just become more and more screwed up in my writings. Man.
I think Hoover's going to be up soon. I don't know if he needs to use the phone this morning or not, it depends if it's a school day or a work day for him. Something tells me it might be a work day, since the last two were school days. I guess I'll go offline now for the duration of the morning, but I think I'll keep keeping notes in my little notepad as the day goes on. It should be fucking interesting, to say the least.
This morning's insanity is brought to you by the letter C, and the number 9.

Wed, Nov 28/01 6:58am
I felt like I should have some breakfast so I opened up a can of rigatoni and heated it up. And then I ate it. Well, the contents, not the can. It was pretty good, I sat at the coffee table upstairs, on the floor, and chowed down, reading about the American declaration of recession, until the Radio Shack flyer caught my eye, that is. You ever get that question on a survey, where would you max out your credit card? I wonder if I wouldn't pick Radio Shack. They have all kinds of cool junk, in fact.
It's just about time to put on my eyeliner for the day and march out the door. The clock now says I have 15 minutes to get ready to storm out the door. I always want to leave earlier to be safe, but whenever I do that I just end up colder than I need to be, having left too early and waited too long for the bus. And now with the ankle deep+ snow, well, I might want to tack an extra minute onto that time.
Ehck... maybe a whole can of rigatoni wasn't such a good idea after all. But I wanted something warm, dammit, not just cold cereal and milk. At the grocery store this week I noticed the girl bagged my milk along with my meat products. I found that strange, because in reality, meat and dairy just don't mix. You don't curl up in front of the fireplace with a glass of milk and some pepperettes. And you don't such back a steak with a side of ice cream. You rarely even mix cheese with steak. At least in Canada, anyhow. And when you do, I've found it to be a disaster.
Well, it's 7:05 now, which does leave me 10 minutes... normally ample time... but with the state I'm in, it's easy to figure that it might take me that long to get everything in order and ready to go.
Off to the bus for me!
Winona Ryder is fucking hot. I've never known a Winona. Hey... that's a fucked up little rhyme... trying saying that a couple times... known a Winona... whoa!! That's awesome!!

Wed, Nov 28/01 7:35am
I'm @ the bus station, and I think my math skills have improved. Is my mind clearer? It... kind of feels like it is. Kind of weird.
I notice patterns more today too... this is getting creepy.

CAN'T WAIT FOR THAT BIG ROCKET W/ C & DEZ, YEAH!

Wed, Nov 28/01 7:44am
My prediction of when the bus would arrive was off by 2 minutes... my worst ever. Oh well, I'm on now and it's fucking MARTINI TIME!
It occurs to me that within the past 5 hours, I've talked to 2 people who have some sort of cancer. One of them is a pathological liar, but that doesn't really change much.
The bus driver who looks the nicest is actually the meanest. I think he's a nazi, in fact, the other day I could have sworn I saw a red scrap of fabric with a swastika on it, behind his seat. Thank God I rarely get that guy. My bus usually has a full compliment of retards on it. I've given most of them names. I wonder, if I should call out those names they'd respond. "Leroy! Leroy?!" I also wonder where they all go. Some sort of retard repository? Holy fuck, I almost fell out of my seat.
There go the nurses. Or maybe they're hairdressers in training. See, they wear these uniforms, and they LOOK like nurses uniforms, but I'm told there's no hospital near where they get off the bus. There is, however, a hairdressing school. They always have good, red hair too, which makes me think they're hairdressers.
Oh joy, those 2 french assholes that I hate just got on. Suckers. Normally they each take up a full bus bench, putting their bags on the seats beside them while they make other poor fuckers stand, Bastards. I hope some starving Bangkok whore bites off their cocks off while their cheap asses double team her.

Wed, Nov 28/01 7:59am
We're passing the strip club. I want to go in.

Wed, Nov 28/01 8:03am
Starting to lose it again, fucking tired.
Coffee again soon.
Soon.

Wed, Nov 28/01 8:12am
Okay, I don't know WHAT the fuck just happened. I'm taking my coat off, so I could take my cardigan off... and this wild fucking SHOCK comes through my earphones and FRIES me for half a second. God, that shit was WILD.
The process of getting and paying for coffee was far too complicated for me today. I was fumbling around like a dumb frenchman. Speaking of which, I maanged to get my coffee before those two fagolas from the bus, which was good. They were all decked out in some sort of leather snowmobiling/cocksucking gear that made me snicker a little bit.
This place is deserted. If my classes are cancelled, I'm going to be pissed. I'm not nearly as fucked up as I thought I'd be. Yet, I also haven't had to interact with anyone but the cashier lady. Bring the noise, fuckers, bring the noise.
Oh boy. Ray just wandered in with this strung out, drugged out, story telling 'punk' that I highly disapprove of. I don't mind if Ray comes ovre, but that other dude needs to leave me alone. Ahh, there they go. Time to change cds.
My ass is acting up.

Wed, Nov 28/01 8:22am
I don't remember if my class starts @ 8:30 or 9. Shit.

Wed, Nov 28/01 8:23am
Ahh... 'She'. My Megan song. Used to be my Kirsten song, but she's just a bitch to me now. Fuck her, yay Megan.
Damn I look good.

Wed, Nov 28/01 8:25am
The coffee flap thing tried to give me grief. I fucking put an end to that. I'm going to pack up here and see if anyone is in class. Mair and Andre should be, even if class DOES start @ 9:00.

Wed, Nov 28/01 8:35am
I'm in the classroom, standing against my wall. Andre and Christine are here & Mair just wandered in and out.
Mair refers to her ass as a 'kennel'. Well, actually Andre does, but she accepts the idea.

Wed, Nov 28/01 8:44am
Mair has an erasable highlighter!!

Wed, Nov 28/01 10:13am
Andre remarks about making his own child pornography to the whole class. He says the Charter of Rights and Freedoms allows him to do so. God that was fucking hilarious, it obviously didn't come out the way he wanted it to.

Wed, Nov 28/01 12:12am
I'm freaking out.
This was a bad idea.
My stomach feels weird and I ache.
I'm cold too.

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