Wednesday, August 07, 2002

So today was my last day at work at Starbucks for ever and ever. Or perhaps for just this year. Next summer, when I come back to Seattle, I'm not sure if I'll work for the coffee corporation again or simply try and get a new, better paying job. I hope I'll still be able to visit my friends there, in any case. The great news is that without Starbucks, my primary source for sugar will be cut off. With this in mind, I'm looking forward to better health in the future.

My train leaves on Saturday. At 7:45 PM next Monday, which is approximately four days and twenty-two hours from now, I will be in Chicago with my beloved Cecily, engaged in blissful, immoral, pre-marital tom-fooleries. Or maybe. We've had lots of moral arguments about whether or not it would wise for me to lose my virginity to her. On the one hand, sex is apparently cool. On the otherhand, a chaste, virtuous person like me ought to try and stay that way, and would be better off losing their cherry to another chaste, virtuous person. Cecily is not very chaste. While I might frown on her morals, as well, I can't go so far as to say that she's not virtuous. However, in the interest of losing one's virginity in a very romantic and idealized way, it's not recommended to start with someone who's nicknamed "The Hurricane." In all liklihood, as Cecily predicted, we'll end up going to bed having agreed that we won't have sex and then wake up twenty minutes later and begin carrying on like a couple of howler monkeys on a full moon.

I have a lot of packing to do. I also have a lot of people to see before I leave. I must pack tomorrow and have lunch with my stepdad and go fencing. I must put things into boxes to mail home to college and other things into suitcases to take with me to Chicago. On Friday, I must pack more and return my father his car and see my friends. On Saturday I must depart and find a way to spend two days on a train. I'm looking forward to the trip and especially to seeing Cecily. Furthermore, I cannot wait to return to St. John's College.

Next summer, I probably will return to Seattle, but I'm not so sure. I'm fairly certain I won't be returning at all the rest of the time, in my eternal quest to save my parents money.

Health News: My brother is stabbing me in the neck with a pen. Other than this and athlete's foot, I'm doing well. Except diabetes is still killingt me.

Sports News: Howard Huang returned from fencing training in Portland, which I would have gone to if I were a rich chink like him, but I couldn't. I think he's going to kick my ass tomorrow night. He says he has learned a lot. I hope when I go back to Maryland I will be able to fence in a real club with a real coach who can teach me a lot of real things. Training by myself has little merits.

Literary News: I must decide what I wil take with me on the train to read. It must be absorbing and enjoyable. I think I should also take my seminar readings of the Bible. I hope my theology-student-Mom has a spare copy. Anyway, dinner is coming fast and I have phone calls to make.

Monday, August 05, 2002

Musings: All the universe is striving to reach equilibrium. This includes human beings. Human Desire and Human Reason are opposites between which there should be some sort of equilibrium (note that this does not mean an equal amount of the two). Love is the equilibrium between these two (with respect to most things, not just people).

Thankfully, I don't need to try and support my claims, because I know I'm right and I don't care what you fuckwads think.

Health News: Diabetes is killing me. Literally. This is distressing.

Music News: I'd like to report that "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots" is cummingly good.

Work News: I have only two days left at Starbucks. I'll be sad to leave and happy at the same time.

I think perhaps my biggest fault when it comes to relationships is that I'm over possessive. When I'm with someone I love I don't want to share them with their friends or my own. I want only to be alone with them and to do things with them. I'm not a "people-person", I'm a "person-person" - I like singular interactions.

I'm incredibly excited to be going to Chicago to be with Cecily next week. But also I know that we'll have to go out and do things and of course there will be other people there to share her with. This annoys me. I imagine that married couples eventually need to engage in a social life, but this is after the honey moon period is over and they can stand to share one another. I think I'm a permanent honey mooner. Either that, or I'm just whipped senseless.

No. I'm not whipped. I'm just desparate.

Movie News: I watched an half an hour of the 9th of the Friday the Thirteenth movies, up until the point where Jason stabs a girl with a fence post and tears her in half with it. It was cool, but then I had to go talk to Cecily on the phone, a welcome interruption. Still, Friday the Thirteen Part IX, Jason Goes to Hell, is an excellent movie I want to watch again. Maybe it will be on later tonight. It takes horror and breast shots to a whole new level, too. Yummy.

Speaking of Yummy, a friend from work named Yumi and I said our goodbyes today. She is leaving for Japan in a couple weeks whereas I'm leaving on Saturday, and we're both convinced we'll never see one another again. It was an interesting goodbye, very formal and polite. "Have a nice life," and all that. No hugs, no pats on the back, no crying, no looking back. Just "See ya in the next life." It was interesting and memorable.

Now to bed. Where I will hopefully have wet dreams.

Sunday, August 04, 2002

So I went to the Seattle Art Museum on Saturday with a co-worker from Starbucks. There was an exhibit of chronologically arranged art from the romantic-ish period up until the cubist-ish period, called "From Corot to Picasso." I thought that title meant it was in alphabetical order at first, but then I realized that there must be French painters whose last names begin with letters that come after "P" in the alphabet.

One painting was interesting to me. Its theme was the seductive power of art and it portrayed a young artist flirting with his model sitting in his lap, with a painting before them of two nudes in an embrace, and a lot of other suggestive material around them. It got me to thinking about whether or not art could really be used to turn chicks on. It strikes me as an absurd notion to imagine putting out for someone just because they could draw well or play an instrument, but it seems to be true for women. I'm not sure if men would, since there's no accounts of it ever happening to my knowledge, but colloquially one knows that chicks dig poems and crazy shit like that. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy writing a poem for a girl I like, and it's cool if she likes it. But I don't expect her to give me head in gratitude. This, however, seems to be the accepted notion for how things go.

According to secondary sources, a friend of mine said that I am a fundamentally good human being. This pleased me greatly because it is true and I'm glad someone recognized it. I'm so good I should get a medal, damnit. I should even be Pope. And I'm humble, too.

Remember those sticky pads they advertised on TV a while ago that you could like stick to your face and then peel them off and they would take all the dirt and grease and oil with them? They were like zit pads or something. Anyway, I've found that scotch tape works just as well. And scotch tape costs like $3 for twenty feet of it. You could have great, clear pores for the rest of your life for like ten bucks.

Today I worked about ten hours altogether, in two shifts. I took a nice nap and went to visit my dad in between opening my store and closing another Starbucks down the street. When I got home at around 11 PM the phone was ringing because my idiot friends don't realize that my mom sleeps at night. I was hoping it would be Cecily calling, but alas. I'll probably call her tomorrow night after I get off work around 7 PM. Which would be around 9 or 10 PM Chicago time (hint hint).

For now, though, I should just mention that I'm going to sleep and perhaps I'll remember other important unimportant things to write at another time.