May 8th, 2001

mr. robin


Man. I was a little late getting into the car today, and I am soooo upset about it. Here's why: I caught the absolute tail-end of Fred Sherman's 7:25 report, and (I swear) I heard him say "yo", and then the last two "lines" of his report rhymed. I think he rapped his report today. Fred Sherman! Man, that would have made my whole day. The very idea of it has even perked me up a bit.
mr. robin

(no subject)

Man, the Third Floor North in my building is weird. It looks totally different from my floor, and according to Enrique (my cubicle neighbor), the people there are weird, too. Also, it smells like Pez.
mr. robin


Oh, man, Pom Pom. I'm not even THAT hungry, but I made myself a sandwich today (poof! I'm a sandwich!), and just KNOWING that it's in my bag, waiting, waiting, is tearing me apart.
mr. robin

Recombination, then Viacom

I spent the first semester of my Junior year of college in England. It was pretty cool, but English people really are as snobby as they say, and they don't really care for Americans, at least not me.

I have two things to talk about today about my time spent in England. Here is the first.

One time, I and three other people from my residence hall went to the grocery store, a Safeway (at the time, John Cleese was doing commercials for Safeway. This is irrelevant). I had gone through the whole store, but I had missed a few things, so I was doubling back. Two of the people I had come with -- I think the guy's name was Rob, and I forget the girl's name -- were coming the other way, so I said, "hey, I missed the bananas and the tuna, do you know where they are?"

Rob looks down at me disdainfully and says, "Well, the bah-NAH-nahs are in the front" (emphasizing the word so that I was certain to know that I was saying it incorrectly) "and by the way, it's CHOO-nah."

I look at him. "'Choona'?" I repeat.

He and the girl nod.

I think for a moment. "You mean, like, with a 'C-H' in the front?" I am skeptical.

Rob and the bitch furrow their respective brows, look at each other, then turn back to me, nodding. "Yes, I guess it is. Choona. Like the Choob." They meant the subway in London.

I'd been here for two months already, so I'd learned long ago that I was never, ever going to win. "Okay. Well, I'm going to go find the choona." Inside, I was rolling my eyes.

Damn limeys.
mr. robin

I love Marzipan and all, but . . .

I just realized that (before this one) I've written four journal entries today, and 75% of them began with "Man". Owa tador kayam. And in real life, I'm pretty sure I don't say "man" as much as I say "dude", which is even sillier.
mr. robin


For a while I forgot the second thing I was going to say about England, but then I remembered again. Here it is.

First of all, I am messy. Very very messy. One of the sloppiest people you'll ever meet. I hate it. I'm embarassed about it. It makes me depressed, even, sometimes: I see it as tangible proof that I do not have my shit together. And the thing about messes is, they seem to grow exponentially. The bigger the mess is, the bigger it will get, and fast. For instance: last night, at midnight, I took a shower. When I got out, I just dropped my bathrobe and towel on the bedroom floor. Just dropped them on the floor! Sometimes, if I'm running late for something (which is always), I'll leave it on the bed until I get home. But I wasn't running late for anything! I was going to bed! But my floor was so messy already, that the added robe and towel changed the situation very little.

That's the thing. If my place is already clean, then it bothers me more to leave something somewhere it doesn't belong. Here's where England comes in: in England, I lived in a residence hall, and every Wednesday a lady would come in to clean (...TO CLEAN!) my room. She would Hoover (that means "vacuum") the floor, and clean my bathroom. Oh, that's right, I had my own bathroom, with shower and everything, all to myself. Also she would take my dirty sheets away and leave clean ones.

So because of this kind lady, my room stayed clean ALL TERM. It had to be tidy when she came, and she came every week, so I was really good about it and so proud of myself and so hopeful that I could become a neat person if I really tried, but I can't. I try to have my friend Henky over every Thursday so that I have to clean for her, but she doesn't make it every week, and most of the time I don't get the place clean, anyway -- merely acceptable, if that. Henky already knows that I'm dirty; hell, she lived with me for a year.

I started writing this entry like an hour ago and I can't remember what my point was and it's stupid and boring like your FACE so I'm done.