Monday, October 25, 1999

My Wells Woman spent the weekend with me again this week. She'll be coming up next weekend to go with me to a dance.

I honestly don't think that this was the best weekend for her to come up here. Firstly, I had to work on the Friday evening that she had arrived. This meant that I spent about one or two hours with her before saying, "I have to work now." Two hours at my job (I usually work on Saturdays, the reschedule for this week still baffles me) and then I saw her again. Of course, when Sunday came I had commitments from 2:30-6:00PM. Guess what for? I'll give you a hint: the organization's name has four call letters.

My Wells Woman and I had a talk on Saturday. We have effectively defined the nature of our relationship: we are just friends who happen to have sex. I've been thinking a lot about that. I know that I am not now, nor am ever likely to fall in love with her. That being, should she and I really be having sex? I can say that I care for her as a person, but I've been questioning as the appropriateness of having sex with someone I don't love.

Please don't tell me that I'm getting a sudden rush of morality. That would really mess me up.

I know that I don't want a girlfriend. In fact, I actually think being single is a really good idea at this point. Maybe I should fall in love and start dating with someone before having sex with her?

Then again, I could just be further deluding myself.

The truth will out: if you want to entertain a peaceful existence, do not live on-campus. A few days ago, the University Police discovered some stolen road signs in the lounge of my residence hall. They also found some powdered lemonade arranged in lines on a table, and immediately assumed that since it was a powder, and since it was in lines, it must be cocaine (such logic).

It was rumored for a while that everyone's room was going to be searched, but that never came to pass. I guess I can empty out my trashcan of the used condoms and tissues. Search my room!

Just a few random thoughts:

Why do the people who live next to me feel the need to be noisy until 2:00AM? The last time I checked, quiet hours began four hours prior.
Why is it that some people can not seem to walk at a reasonable speed in the hallways? Some of us are actually trying to go to a class!
When I'm doing my special morning show for October, "Freaky Friday," somebody always inherently feels the need to call up and request something way out there (i.e.: The Backstreet Boys). Did they not notice the theme of gothic/industrial? Try Bauhaus.
One of the showers in my hall is ice cold. The other is boiling hot. Could we not combine these two stalls?
Love n. an antiquated excuse to fuck.
Okay, only sometimes I actually believe that, but I see some people and wonder about the validity...
I hate the way Microsoft Word makes my three periods into one character.
Text editors rock. I use SimpleText.
Is anybody else as fucking sick of Limp Bizkit as I am?
I miss my cat. She's a pretentious little bitch, but I love her anyway.
I need to do laundry. Maybe the clothes I'm wearing will last another day...
It is said that if any student leaves S.U.N.Y. Potsdam as a virgin, the statue of a woman reading a book which sits in front of our library will stand up and walk away.
"Gimme All Your Lovin'" by ZZ Top is playing on the radio.
I'm sick of thinking.