a thin line

I ran over a mile yesterday. I think at least. It's hard to tell. My thighs ache so much when I walk down stairs. In fact, they ache so much that they gave out when I was coming downstairs to the office this morning, and in fact I fell down the stairs. This wouldn't have been so terrible had I not had a cup of freshly made tea in one hand, or if in fact it had merely spilled down instead of flying up into my face... i'm fine though. really. except I need a pillow to sit down on.

So anyway, after hurting my hips (seriously, my hip joints hurt, what's up with that?) I just walked the rest of the way, still faster than the other "speed-walkers" of course. This one girl was two-fisted with a water bottle and a latte. She cracked me the fuck up. Still I wanted to die, and only loud dance music on my headphones and thoughts of a nutritious breakfast kept me going.

After breakfast I watched a couple episodes of Angel, showered, then fucked around online for a while. Then I called up Ana as I walked to the park, and she told me all about Toronto. Maybe I should have been there, it possibly would have distracted me even more. But then I would have spent a lot more money this weekend than I otherwise did...

I wrote in the park till I was afraid of getting sunburnt (too cold in the shade), then came home and wrote some more. And then I got ready to go see Stealing Harvard with Meg. Wow, what a ... mediocre film. I expected it to be terrible but not in that way. It was just like, well, imagine some guy who's taken a correspondence course in film writing deciding "OK! My turn." Even the credits looked like they'd been done on some guy's computer with Flash 1.0 or something.

After dinner I decided to give Sean a ring but sadly transposed the last two digits of his phone number. So now some guy named Jeremy knows my number. But anyway I found his apartment building and buzzed him, so we hung out and watched Godfather II. Well, he watched it while I just basically fell asleep around the third hour. Fuck that's a long movie.

This morning, after the accident, I showered then actually started a job search thing for real. I applied for some stuff on Monster then copied links on Dice. And I think that's all for now. Time to eat and clean my room.

"nothing like an old love to get over a new one. Wait a minute..."

I have a stack of writings in my room, mostly from college. One envelope was from my creative writing course senior year, and one was from the required freshman writing course; both contained all the writings I was forced to do over the semester.

Except the one that I thought was the freshman writings was ACTUALLY my journals up till, um, I stopped, around 1995 (second semester of 12th grade). And from what I can tell, it's all about boys. Crushes and unrequited lust and first loves and "friends with benefits." And that's the less inane parts. There's also some general teen angst and such. And then there's the just "Went to mall with mom. Bought pants" entries.

This will make for some painful reading.

fyi

On Tuesday, June Fourth, 1991, I claimed that I got sunburnt for the first time. Probably true, unless I was sunburnt before the age of five or so.