National State of Alert:
(as of 3-8-04)

Personal State of Alert:
(as of 3-8-04)

Reason for Personal State of Alert:
- So this is post-college life? Really? *shivers*

- The Passion of Christ featured a deleted scene where Christ called me out and told me "You're next"

Featured Links:
Diaryland.com
OnlineOnslaught.com
MSNBC.com
QuietAmerican.org
MoneyCentral.msn.com
Tremble.com
Weezer.com
Fool.com
GirlsArePretty.com

joelthecat.diaryland.com

Working Nine til Five
2001-10-05 - 4:13 p.m.

I lost another post to the "Back" button. Noooo!!! Not that it was any good anyway. I just wanted to say that today has been much better, and my rut of yesterday afternoon has been replaced with hectic happiness, and a very special, special man named Hector Happiness... who has been providing me with hispanic loving.

Right.

Mike got to see Rufus Wainwright and MEET the bloke yesterday. I am jealous, yet happy for him. I get to take cookies home from work, cuz there are leftovers from a meeting. I shall be spreading my cookies to all my friends now. No, that does NOT sound sick. I am hyper. Hyper, hyper, hyper. I do not know why. Perhaps it is the aforementioned cookies. Perhaps it's this SCAD employee, who wants me, and seeked out my SN, and I don't really see any kind of future with, but is fun to mess with. Well, until he just started insisting on giving me a ride somewhere I don't really need him accompanying me to. Um, no.

Lessee... what else. Not much new with Shaun, haven't contacted him in a while. I suppose I will soon, to check up, although I do think he needs his time to see us both as single individuals again, which we are. Eddie's been working out cool as a roommate, we have lots of conversations which only two cool people could have, involving our fucked up dreams (his admittedly more fucked up than mine), and just about growing as a person in general. That's when I'm not hurling baby powder around, trying to do breakdance moves on a shorthair carpet (OW!), or using white hand lotion as a symbolic representative of something seen far less often. Unless you work at banks where they collect such stuff.

"Stuff"

So, there's this SCAD mail guy who wants in my pants. I don't want in his pants. It is fun playing odd Instant Message allusion games though. Except for when he places himself in my plans. No thanks.

Well, wait, never mind... I forced him to ask me- the cat's out the bag (or closet). There goes all my fun. You would think that my rainbow bracelet or the fact I run Lambda or volunteer for gay pride would help out me more easily. Oh well.

Hmm, now he asked me if I find him attractive. DAMN HARD QUESTIONS! He got me back. The bitch.

Well, yeah, honesty is good. Not like evil honesty, but I said what I had to without being mean and hurting his feelings, I hope.

Life is funny sometimes. Unless you're Bob Saget, in which case even a funeral is pure comedic gold.

"What is love? Baby don't hurt me! Don't hurt me! No more!"

Reason for Terror # 82:

Using phrase "da bomb" unwittingly in phone tapped conversations could lead to arrest and beatings by the FBI, local authorities, and hip police.

Reason for Terror # 81:

There was a little bit of mold on that bread you had this morning.

Reason for Terror # 80:

When evening falls, you can try to drive away; but the moon will be following... always following...