May 29, 2000 — Throwing molotov cocktails at the boat

The first time I tried to write this journal, I was almost finished and then I took a break to work on redesigning the anti-greg logo in Adobe Illustrator when my computer crashed and I lost my entry. I was mighty PO'd.

So anyhoo, today was a bit of a nothing day. I didn't even go to school until lunch, and I only have one class after lunch, so basically it was just a massive waste of my time. Granted, I had to write a test during that one class, but still.

I'm finding it's really hard to care about finals when university has accepted me and guaranteed my scholarship. I'm just there for the credits at this point. I'm doing just enough work to squeeze by with high-80s or low-90s. And believe me, that's not a whole lot of work and it involves being "sick" a lot to miss morning classes. For some reason my doctor's appointments always fall during period two as well... How terribly inconvenient, eh?

Right then. I definitely need to get some sleep tonight since this journal entry is definitely turning out to be far less worthwhile than I'd hoped. At least prior to this I'd pretend I had something to say, but that doesn't seem to be the case today.

Only 5 days til prom. Dave Hopkins and I were discussing my options, which include going to the Mayfair, or heading to the boat cruise and throwing molotov cocktails at the boat. Hmm.

It occurs to me that it's not at all impossible that some retard would tell the school that I said that and I'd get expelled with what, 10 days remaining? Fuck I hate school.

It's my sister's birthday today. As a joke half-birthday present I got one of those Finger Bikes. It has working brakes! I'm not pretending to be impressed, by the way; hours of enjoyment will emerge from that die-cast wonder.

I was driving down Bankfield today, which is the main road between school and home in Richmond, and I came over this hill and there was a large transport truck coming at me in my lane. I was less than impressed. I was ready to ditch the car (it would have been my third time!) to avoid certain death, but the truck swerved back into its own lane and then the guy pulled over, perhaps to go to sleep while parked instead of while driving toward Greg. Why I haven't been killed driving yet is a mystery to me.

This happened on Sunday, but I forgot to mention it in that journal, so here we go. I was on the 97 bus on my way to work and there was the boy, about four years old, with his father. When the bus stopped at Bayshore, a group of boys ran up to the window the boy was sitting beside and started banging on it and yelling that the kid smells and such. The father either didn't notice or didn't care, but he certainly didn't say anything. The sad part was the boy looked genuinely terrified. It was so sad.

Then I started thinking in that what's-wrong-with-kids-today mode, worrying that society was going to get worse and worse. But I realized that I was just being foolish and people acted exactly the same way when I was that age, so nothing's really changed. It was the first time I could really understand how this whole generation gap thing works though.

That's my deep thought for the day. I did a lot of work today on anti-greg and have this sweet design started that'll be a nice surprise for people visiting the site later this week. Whoo.