journal 10/10

oh look i just wrote something else! all that transcribing a journal made me want to write another one, so i just did.

hi dad, i know you're reading this, so i'd like to say that some of this is fiction and some is not.

10/10
Thursdays was date night. Edija and I would go to the Denny's on Riverside and Franklin, but we wouldn't go alone. TJ had to come along to dramatize anything that could happen. He was like a little bard, spewing abstract crap about what we were doing.

But we wouldn't eat at the Denny's. In fact, we wouldn't even go inside. We'd just park in the lot and walk across the street to the Sinclair station first. TJ would go inside and buy eggs because he was Hmong and most of the neighborhood was Hmong, so he wouldn't stand out. I looked like a boy then. I wonder if Edija was actually gay because he hated me when I grew my hair out that winter. I think we broke up over it.

Edija had gray-blue hair at that point, I think. It made him look like Anderson Cooper. We were just too obvious. So TJ bought the eggs.

I have no idea why we did this, but one day when we were driving around the neighborhood, Edija pulled over and said, "Dude, let's go egg Denny's."

And so we did. First it was one egg carton, then three, and finally we would watch TJ balance a tower of egg crates as he hobbled towards us. And then we'd find our favorite brown brick side and start throwing.

I swear when we did this we weren't high or anything. Like I said I don't know why we did any of it. Crazy unwashed people would honk at us as they drove past, leaning out their windows and cheering us on. To them we must have been a blank symbol of anything they were mad at. Some would say "Bush knocked down the towers!" or "Death to corporations!" or "Make abortion a health right!" We'd wave at them and keep throwing eggs. I'm glad it made someone happy.

9/26 journal

if froid and samuel were in a rom com, this would have been a thing. doesn't take a genius to decide who is who.

LANGUAGE DISCLAIMER: this is made with english. sometimes english drops the f-bomb when you encounter someone you hate.

9/26
You're at the ramen stand right by the quad. That ramen place is the only worthwhile place to eat at around here. How dare you. I haven't eaten or slept in two days, all because of the class you're the TA for, that has taken upon itself to become my new lifestyle. How dare you. Look at you, all well-rested and eager to get your huge bowl of miso buckwheat ramen. If only you got some sort of rabid food poisoning and you had to spend two days not sleeping or eating. How about YOU take on that lifestyle.

How am I, you ask? What do you think you can hide behind your schadenfreude, behind some sort of well-worn politeness? Fuck you, I just want my ramen to go so I can watch my face bloat up from the MSG and sodium in peace. YOUR face doesn't bloat up, doesn't it? That's because you have the metabolism of an ecstasy-riddled baby squirrel.

Have I written a response paper to the poem you published, you ask? No. I've just been sitting on my ass for two days trying to escape and join a Colombian drug cartel so I can give you some cocaine laced with dishwasher soap and watch you go into shock.

Why am I just staring at you, you ask? Sorry, I've just not slept in a while. Thats all. See you in class later. Enjoy your ramen.

Fucker.