Well, the hour grows nigh. We're leaving bright and early tomorrow morning (Or maybe just early, since the sun might not be up). I'm not really sure if I'm looking forward to this--every vacation, apart from where we go, seems the same. We see some stuff, get lost a few times on the way, scream at each other, annoy each other, and then come home. I know they make movies about crap like this, but is this NORMAL? I want to go somewhere and relax, not worry about finding Upteenth Street and Hairy Avenue. Ah well. For those that read this.....signing off.

This is a heads up for those of you that don't know: I'm leaving Thursday (31st) to go on a vacation with my folks, and we're planning on being gone at least 8 days, so don't expect to hear from me any time soon. Lament, ye faithful, lament!

I forgot to mention that Sherry dropped off a huge freaking bag load of stuff for me to work my way through, i.e. books and even an album she burned (with some weird cover art to boot). The books are some of these multi-epic series, like Wheel of Time and Sword of Truth, except these mostly seem to be from the 70's, a period in fantasy I know woefully little about.

Sherry stopped by work today, and despite me telling her multiple times that I wasn't angry at her, I still think she's still thinking that. The fact is, that if Lisa (woman that's been making my work a living hell of neverending drama for the past weekend) had seen me talking to ANYBODY, and not doing anything for all of 4 seconds, she would have barked off a command of some kind. I mean, Jesus. She was giving me somewhere around 2 seconds to bag one order, and then scramble past 4 empty lanes and bag a can of soup somebody bought. So BAG YOUR OWN CAN OF SOUP, YOU PREMIE TRICK ASS CHEESE WHORE! Bam!

Just got back from another night with Sherry. I know that people say that variety is the spice of life, but we've pretty much done the same thing for two weeks straight now. Meet up, go to a park, talk/walk around, do some assorted stuff around town between, and then grab a little bite to eat at-of all places-Sonic. The funniest thing is that I never get bored doing this. It's the same routine, but it's definitely not the same trip.

P.S. Sonic Cream Slushes are the wicky-wicky bomb. Thug4Lyfe. *wessides*

I got my car back!

....and it smells pretty!

I guess that's a good thing.

Right? Sure, I'm right.

Something's wrong. I've won 3 games of chess in a row, 1 of which the person I was playing simply smacked me around last time. Now, I don't think I've improved, and I'm not sure you can actually get worse at chess, barring brain damage of some kind, but geez. What's up with that?

Curses! They didn't get my car done today, so they're HOPING they'll get it done tomorrow. Argh.

Holy smoking crap! I just got a call from mom, and the bill for my car repair is going to be THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY BIG ONES. The thing is that mom had said she would pay for the 100K mile check-up, but this is a little bit past what she was expecting to pay. With tuition and doctor's bills from a couple of visits last month, I'll be living in cardboard style and sipping up mad puddle water to keep myself alive! Jebus! I guess I'll be forced to stop using the gas pedal for a while.

Well, today was one of my two days off. Yes, my weekend comes in the early or middle parts of the week. I didn't do too much except mow most of the yard, which I loathe....and talk to Sherry while she was at work, at least through e-mail a little bit. I hope it doesn't bore her to death--but hey, if somebody came to visit me at work, or just called to say hello, I'd think it was nice...if a bit weird. Dad invited me to go to work with him tomorrow up in Lexington, but he'll have to get up really, really early to go there, and tomorrow will almost definitely be my last day off before vacation.

Oliver Twist I've become, definitely wanting more gruel in my pot.

Your

A rosed envelope snacks on my nostrils,
intoxicating even the town drunk, some inebriated fool that
I have become.

Here the earth's loving bounty
lust'd bursts in my mouth afore the end of the days
I call my life.

A sugar'd saint sails down my neck,
redeeming me until I can't remember
the scent of you.

Bwaahahahahaha! Tremble and behold, mortals! The muse has smitten me upside the head, making creative images dance through my cranium like hordes of cattle in "Riverdance". Eat your heart out, Michael Flatley.

Jesus, women are confusing. That is all.

In some horrible mind game, the teacher of my 5 week summer class had me completely convinced that I was failing everything again, even going so far to say "You should have taken that Incomplete." Needless to say, this did not sit well...considering that I got a C in the class, which is enough to make sure I go back in the fall. Not to mention the admonition, "You can write better than this, Jason." Oh, hi. I'm Jarrod. I wrote the paper, kthxbi. Jesus.
But at least the 5 years that had been taken from my life have been added back to my sum total of...uh, 32, probably. At least I won't have to worry about middle aged crises, although a little red sports car would always be nice.

And on the column to the left, I've added a link to Sherry's blog. I'm sure she'll appreciate that, heh heh.

Nightmares always come back, so they say. Or at least they say that in the B flicks that you see on Sci Fi or TNT late at night. For me, one of those nightmares was the semester I had to take off from school because of my poor grades. And now, because of an ill-conceived 5 week summer class with a maximum of 2 overall assignments, I might find myself facing that again. Essentially right now, I'm not talking to anybody except my parents, and that's just because they live with me. Otherwise...let me sort this out.

Jesus. I think my English department head hates me. How craptastic is that?