Every day I'm hustlin'

On top of my regular duties as well, you know.

As opposed to me proposing an issue or something interesting to debate, I think I'll just turn this blog into my new, little diary. I've got no problems, but it's cathartic to write about a load of crap that nobody cares about except me. And maybe a couple others ;)

I'm a bit confused at the moment. There's a whole lot of shit I need to wipe up, or consider beginning to wipe up. But most of it is nestled, tucked away in a forgotten corner of my mind. I need to consider starting up college apps. I need to consider the SATs. I need to consider getting more community service hours. I need to consider the format of my next project. There's just so much I need to do, but have no motivation to even attempt. I mean, once they loom closer, like a homicidal robotic falcon flying in closer to deliver a payload of bullets and death, I'll have more incentive to run away, but I think I've just convinced myself to believe that it's too far on the horizon to worry about. I need to get my priorities in order.

Despite my confusion, I've managed to stay happy, outside of a few nitpicks. My play has been well-received from the people who I've allowed to read, I'm staying on top of my reading list, and I've managed to work in a decent amount of exercise. Football has also been extremely fun to watch, even though the Norcal teams are so unbelievably awful that Joe Montana would be ashamed to even be once affiliated with the 49ners. Go Chargers, even though their defense may be weakened once Merriman goes into surgery. Sorry.

That being said, there some things I could do without. For one, indulging the company of parasitic asstards is about as appealing as clipping my nails with a chainsaw. This is why I hate taking classes with people, though there are exceptions. They gravitate towards me, eat up my notes, and leave, but not before farting in my face as thanks. This time, I get to have all that but also have to sit next to a smelly, greasy, annoying Indian fuckstick. Even after class is over and I hint that I want to be alone to do my work, the twatface insists on following me wherever I go. I can understand if it's a friend, but this guy is not my friend. Never will be. I'm probably making a big deal out of this, but I'm going to have to deal with this for the next fourteen weeks. That's why I'm making it a big deal. I won't have my olfactory sense after that time, man.

I walked into the semester with the following mentality. "Oh man, this semester's gonna be awesome. I'll have an awesome history teacher, a great math teacher, I'll be able to write some ace papers, and I'll learn about economics and music." Turns out my semester is equally counterbalanced and I have no English class.

My history and math classes are awesome. But my econ and music classes are as exciting as playing with toejam. The Persian/Eastern European/Brooklyn whatever-the- fuck-she-is reads right out of the damn book, and the music class is boring to the point where you'd rather learn the Soulja Boy dance or learn how to tie a hangman's noose (like some people).

Like I said, small nitpicks, I just like being descriptive with overlong metaphors.

Fun fact: I'm doing horrifically bad in the Kaplan course. I haven't been completing the homework, and during class, I'm more interested in looking up vocabulary words I don't know the definition to (I've only found one, "obfuscate." Then I realized I knew the answer to it and felt dumb). My actual SAT score has been higher than all the practice exams, it's pretty funny. But also quite sad.

But we are fast approaching the end of the week, which seems to be loaded with fun throughout. Burn After Reading, another Coen Brothers movie, a comedy in contrast to the dark masterpiece that was No Country for Old Men. It looks excellent, and like The Dark Knight, I plan on seeing it more than once. On top of that, a friend (who better be reading this blog) is returning from Santa Barbara for a week up here. So I plan to school him in the art of Soul Calibur 4 and watch the premiere of House.Also, some Forrest Gump run thingy at Great America.

Like Brad Delp of Boston once said, "Takin' my time, I'm just movin' on."