1.30.2005

I know I harm myself. I do it all the time. I do one thing, knowing that another is better or that in itself the thing is harmful. I just plated Sims for seven hours. I don't even know what I did... designed a treehouse? Made one character make out with another? That's fucking dumb. No, it's cool. For a 13 year-old. Jesus. I'm 21. I was supposed to be making a mix of music that has influenced me for my music promotion class. What...the...fuck. That is SO MUCH COOLER than what I actually did. What happened? It's like I blanked out. I remember at one point I started making a sauna and it got... problems... and I had to work them out, I made a point of it. Felt like I wasn't even awake the whole time. And you KNOW this is one of my new year's resolutions is stop expressing creativity through video games. Arrrgh.

You know what's worse? Another one. Blog every day, even if it's a sentence. That's not hard? And yesterday I had a very busy, memorable day. I was woken up in a dream, a real entertaining one, which I wrote down and wanted to tell about. Then later I drove up to San Jose and bought a cheap huge moniter, visited Emily. She talked about how she was adjusting back with her 'rents, cause sadly she don't go here no more. Jenna and I petted kitties while Emily played vintage punk vinyl she was obviously proud to own. Stayed longer than I'd hoped. Drove back and carried the massive 75 pounder up to my room, frequent stops included. Incredible change. I can actually do whatever I want with my computer. This, of course, can be a bad thing as expounded earlier. Then, yet more amazing novel and precious life experience, I went to a party. Meg's, from Rocky Horror. Danced. A lot. Was literally steaming, like a frigging calzone. Entertained two girls outside while about the same time Jenna was being told by another girl that she was really lucky. Even got Jenna to dance, for a bit. Let me stress this for those that doubt my dancing/partying ability: last night it was cool to be me, to be around me, to know me. I am loved. Yes. It feels goood to say that. Ah.

I feel better about not blogging and wasting so much time. Not that it matters really. Fuck it. Tony Pierce says so. Besides, not like I haven't wasted staggering amounts of time before. Like the 88 days I played Eve last summer. Can't think of one damn productive thing I accomplished. This is nothing. A passing phase. I'm growing into my breeches. Mmm yeah.

Jenna save me.