Monday, March 10, 2003

It's 3:40 am (twenty minutes till early) and I am so ready to be in my bed I can barely sit up, but I am here deleting scenes of Jeff and I discussing blow jobs and other less-than-wholesome things from my family's video camera so that I can then rest without fear of my mother discovering the true nature of Jeff and I, left to our own devices. We spent the better part of an unrelentingly long evening trying to figure out how to take the audio from a DVD of a Metallica concert he has and burn it to a CD. We started this before dinner at around 6:30 and have just now finished- not even finished, but gotten to a point close enough to the end that it was safe to stop there and allow him to take the progress home so that he might finish it on another night, when at less risk for falling asleep behind the wheel. To be fair, this was not the whole of the evening- we let the computer do some of it's own "demuxing" work while we went off and had fun hijinks returning/renting videos, as well as forgetting to actually take them out of the store and not discovering this until arriving home, then having to go back to get them. (You'll pardon my language, but at this hour, and having had this much computer-related stress tonight, my mind is not working entirely well.) I also took the oppurtunity to put the first of what will undoubtedly be a series of post-it notes on Jeremey's car, parked in front of Kacie's house, and I wonder what his reaction to that was. Jeff delighted in finally being able to be the one posting, as I have posted his car several times.

I wish this goddamned recording would hurry it's motherfucking self up. Piss, shit, motherfucker, cocksucker, tits. I just feel like being profane. I feel like eating, which I frequently do when I'm bored, but I'm attempting- albeit, failing- to diet.

Jeff felt guilty for making tonight more about ripping a DVD than about anything interesting, and I wish he didn't- I'm sure I've done similar shit to him, and I wonder how fattening that leftover KFC biscuit would be- gah! No attention span at all at this time of night. How much fucking shit did we record? It's just us ripping Metallica! BAH! It's gotten so I'm not even concerned with swear words, so long as there's nothing blatantly sexual to delete. Oh, oh god, he's got a close up on my chin and there's all this bullshit fat underneath it- fuck the KFC biscuit! Fuuuuck it! I hate the way I look when I'm not thinking about the way I look, in order to conceal my problems...or whatever. I don't deserve Zack....aaaaaugh. I meant to check his site...please GOD let him of written something, to keep me awake and just a little more entertained. Nothing nothing nothing new, not that I really expected it, but we've gotten to the point of the tape where Jeff and I are focused on the task at hand, and so this chore should soon be over, and I am re-reading things Zack has said about how much he loves me, and it's harder to believe than it is to doubt, and I want nothing nothing nothing more than for it all to be true so we can just love each other, all perfectly, and FUCK the sound of my own laughter bothers me. Anyone who surfs on nowish and reads these first couple of posts is going to think that this is the way I always write, and that bothers me, as well. I am easily bothered at 4:03 (it's now officially early, folks!) AM- bothered by my laugh, my inability to trust the fact that Zack really loves me as much as he proports to, bothered by the fact that I'm not sure if proports is a word, bothered by the fat between my chin and neck- that I inherited from my mother, gah, I do not want to grow up to look like her, I'm inheriting too much of her and the rest of the world as it is (wanting kids, suddenly, what the hell is with that? MEH!), bothered by everything, but finally! Finally this damn thing is done.

And nothing else I could have to bitch about as is important as trying to get to sleep and- most likely- failing miserably because of the morning light--- is that me bitching again? Shut up, Linda. On with it.