I have just pretty much returned from Steve's house. I'm a little agitated, and perhaps a little angry, I guess factors that all contribute to me wanting to write so early in the morning.
Well, after yesterday's entry, I went to work. Not my other job where I work with kids, but the old bookstore job. I was thinking that I was going to be able to get by working 6 out of 7 days of the week, but the more I think about it... the more I don't want to. I'm seriously contemplating about giving my two weeks notice at the bookstore job soon. Then again, I might choose not to.
Damnit, I can be so indecisive sometimes.
Going into work at 5 in the afternoon and only working a 5 hour shift definitely has its assets. For one thing, the shift isn't that long and it doesn't feel like I've been standing for 12 hours straight. Yep, that's right. When I work at the bookstore we can't sit when we're working. How fucked is that? That's really fucked when I analyze it even further. I mean, it's a bookstore! Geez. Well, let's skip work. I'm getting agitated just thinking about it. Nothing THAT interesting happened there anyway.
After work I wasn't sure as to what I was going to do. I certainly wasn't going to go home - the less interaction I have with my dad, the better. I passed by Dave's work to see what he was going to do at night, and he informed that his girlfriend was probably going to go to his house and sleep over. Well, scratch Dave off the hangout list. So I went over to a nearby Wawa, pulled out a few coins and made some calls. Isaac wasn't home, as I latter learned that he was picking up his parents. Jacob or Gem weren't home either, and neither was Jack or Mia. Who on earth was I going to hang out with? Frustrated and mostly disappointed, I left the Wawa and started going home. I was just about halfway back to my house when one name echoed through my whole head.
How could I have forgotten? Steve's parents were out of town and he was FULLY taking advantage of his parents being gone. His house was on the way to my house, so when I shifted into SPORT drive and started racing down the street at 60 mph, it didn't take long before I was in front of Mr. Steve's house.
I was a little surprised as to how many people were actually there. I thought that Steve was going to have a more intimate get-together, but there they all were, plenty of people, living it up, downing several alcoholic drinks. I offered to make a trip to get some grub, after all, when there's a party, there are always hungry people. Susan, Jon and I rode to a distant Shoprite and picked up 20 burgers, probably more than enough to feed the party. When we arrived people were still having fun, except at a much slower pace. Heh. I guess intoxication will do that to you.
Everything was pretty going smoothly. People were going home sober, and nothing too shady was really going on, except for a few drunken shouts from inside of Steve's house. I hung around outside for most of the beginning hours of the party. I had brought around the friendly coleman bong, a contraption that was assembled while my father was still off in Montreal, which provided me with more than enough fun. A few other joined in my evil deeds, joining our intoxicated friends in their muddled (or enlightened as some of us would call it) state of mind. Everything seemed to be going smoothly.
Now, at a party there's always the "drunk" factor. Having drunk people over always means that somebody is going to do something dumb. Always. That rule will never fail, I don't care what anyone says. Even if you think you have the most controlled group of people in your house, the second you turn around to go to the bathroom or do something, someone out of the group is going to do something stupid. For instance (and the reason I'm a little teed off), someone last night had a burning desire to use spray paint outside. Now, that's normally not a thing to be concerned about, but let's see... IT WAS NIGHT TIME. Why the fuck would someone spray paint at night time, and not for any particular reason? So, spray paint gets all over the coleman cooler that was in my possession, but it doesn't even belong to me! Fuck. So now I'm going to have to invest some money in either trying to get some paint remover or just plain ole buy a new cooler. Either way, it sucks. I hate when people do retarded things.
I can't understand why that happens. For a huge part of my life I have been partying - getting pretty much retarded through some kind of chemical means - but I've NEVER done something stupid or careless that would damage someone's property or possessions. Why can't other people be the same way? It never really seems fair. But there's no use in really complaining because doing that will get me no where. I've just gotta suck it up and roll with the damage.
A few contemplations:
- I can't stand stupid people.
- A handful of Skittles and a bottle of water makes a great combination. However, simply having a handful of Skittles is good enough for me.
- The second that I start growing my hair back, I'm just gonna look plain silly. I can't wait. Heh.
- In a few weeks my grandparents are going to have their 50th wedding anniversary. I guess I should start practicing the songs they gave me to play.
- I've noticed that everytime I mow the lawn, I shave my head. Weird.
- Was Michel de Montaigne really the inventor of the essay form? Granted, he was a great essay writer, but did he REALLY invent it, or was he just credited with inventing it? I guess I'll never know.
The rest of today was really quite boring. I got to sleep until about noon time, after which I decided that it would be best if I vacuumed right away and got it over with. After all, I was also going to have to mow the lawn today, which is going to be an extreme bitch. I hate cutting grass when it's too long. I wish I had one of those tractor mowers. If I had one of them things I'd always enjoy mowing the lawn - or at least it wouldn't feel so much like a chore.
I haven't been spending time with mother nature as much I used to, or even as much as I would like to. I venture to the park every once in awhile to get away from everything, and listen to the sounds of the waterfall. I've always loved that sound. The sound of rushing water, boundlessly running over the side of small hill, crashing into rocks, followed by a serene trip down the rest of the stream bed. It has always been a relaxing sound to me, a sound that has found a way to make me momentarily forget the rest of the world and its problems. I probably should take time out one day after work and take a short trek to the park. I think it would be well worth it.
I'm pretty beat. I'm think I'm going to end it here.