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Night Two of the Write more Initiative

2007-08-10 12:02 a.m.

Second night in a row. To be honest with you, I've made a bit of a commitment to myself to write more often. Even if it's about nothing. Life's too short not to record the tiny beauty and tragedy around you, right?

I'm under a different influence tonight. Five Leinenkugels and Hot Fuzz. So what will tonight's mix of chemicals and emotions bring? It's kind of hard to say.

So, I spent the day at the library doing nearly nothing, but trying my damnest to get something done. You see, I've been commissioned to make an on-line "recommend a book or some shit" form by the (soon to be replaced) Director. Seems easy enough. I figured out the HTML, but now I'm stuck as to how to get the information emailed to us. It all seems to revolve around computer languages I never thought I'd have to learn. Heh.

I'm piss drunk. Duh, right. Thursday evening. Since my Social Deviants class, I've felt that Thursday was the new Friday. This makes facing real Friday pretty difficult, but I manage.

I forgot to mention it last time but my oldest brother had to have his appendix out. Everything is so much easier than it used to be. Well, not hospital lines (errr what I mean to say here is that he waited like 9 hours) but four holes later and, poof no appendix and back to work in two days. Meanwhile, I've grown some pretty tough scabs that protect my fucked-up knee from the hazards of working at a public library.

I have to say, having no blog audience is really tempting. I mean, that fucking mess I wrote yesterday got three hits. Two of which were me and one of which was my roommate who only looked because I mentioned it. But, as usual, despite inebriation, I hold my tongue. Anyone who wants full details will have to talk to me on the phone or steal my paper diary. Too many people have received this link in the past. I'm frightened of what others think, always. I wanted, just there, to use a colon. But it wasn't quite right. While my outer life is quite boring and uneventful, my inner life it melodramatic and makes me want to use improper punctuation to show that I'm on the edge of going to a secret bounty hunter school to breathe some new life into...an unsatisfying existence.

I don't feel like this is over. What shall I say next? I drunken text message conversation seems in order. Let's see how this pans out...
"Its late. Im drunk. Hi."

I'll let you know how it goes. I'm off to read some Stephen Fry message board shit.

Aloha.

K.

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