November 30, 2000 — Forced

It's my mom's birthday tomorrow. I know I'm going to forget. The phone bill is five days overdue. I'll pay it tomorrow. I owe a lot of people email and am behind in everything. I spend hours working on things and nothing gets done. A lot of things aren't going so well.

I've decided that staples are the best toy ever. I took a full strip of them from the box Johnston has on his desk when my iMac crashed so that I could break off a couple to use to reboot it (for those of you who weren't aware: you need to use a paperclip to reboot the old-skool iMacs; staples work too, if you're good at it). Since then I've been breaking them off a few at a time and playing with them. They're like the friends I never had.

Moving on. Today's sorta kinda negative post in reply to yesterday's journal saying that Andrew's gibberish posting was better than everything I'd written reminded me that I'd yet to share with you my first (and, so far, only -- but I've high hopes) true piece of hate mail. So here we go:

From: ** ** (No, really.)
Subject: Why?

I have a serious question about you. Do you get off by putting your stupid "journal/diary" on the internet? Does anyone really care about you and your gay friend finding a meat cutter or paying a bum to take a picture with you? You are one of the dullest most uninteresting people I've ever had the discomfort of hearing about. You are totally worthless as a human being.

My favourite part is that he does such a good job of punctuation. He even put two spaces after every single period like his typing teach taught him (although you won't see that; not that I'm complaining -- getting rid of that two-spaces-after-each-period nonsense is my favourite thing about the Internet). Coming a close second for my favourite part was that "worthless as a human being" comment; I guess we all have our quirks.

And then I got this from Alex the day after my birthday:

What a psycho. I miss Ottawa, sometimes.

I'm really beginning to hate the Internet. I think the only reason I keep doing this journals is because there's no one in particular that I want to force to read this sort of disgruntled ranting. So I get it out of my system here. And pretend that someone's listening at the same time. Or at least that's the story for today.

My other current moodswing regarding the site: forget this business about it being a parody of <insert band name here>-sucks pages. Given that I hate myself way more than the kids over at the other anti- sites (you'd be surprised; the prefix is all the rage these days), I'm doing this to keep it real. Or such is the story. That "about" section is going to be pretty ridiculous if I ever get a chance to finish it. Promise.

And that about wraps things up. My room is completely filthy, I'll be finding staples under my desk for weeks, I need a haircut, and I've a lot more to do than time to do it in. But don't worry, I'll always find time to write about my descent into mediocrity. We all need a release.