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2002-08-04 - 8:43 p.m.

So, Drugs. They are bad. To quote Weetabix, Iím just saying.

But it usually means that Iím having a good time rather than a chunky guy in Kenneth Cole doing the full body dry heave on the dance floor. Also, it came out that a member of my party had never tried NOX, not even at the dentist, so there was a mad rush to find a can of whipped cream. And I ended up with a nasal cavity full.

Not that Iím proud of that.

Anyway, this ďconfessionalĒ type thing is really not going anywhere. Like all things, I find that I have grand plans but execute them poorly. I spent about an hour in Home Depot this afternoon trying to pick the correct shade with which to paint the walls of my new apartment. I want a rich khaki shade that will look clean and pleasant, not clash with the blonde wood furniture I have, and goes well with black. Itís not as hard as it seems. I felt so lost in the paint section, so alone. I could see myself as part of a documentary on how people can become so caught up in the idea of things that practical application leaves them comatose. ďChauffi is a 27 year old man, living in Northern CaliforniaĒ Robert Stack would say as Iím reduced to near tears by the paint section. ďNotice his confusion between the Ralph Lauren paints and the BehrĒ. A close up of my face, scrunched in confusion, the wad of paint chips in my hands becoming soiled and damp by my heavily sweating palms. The lilt in Robert Stacks voice when I come upon the Dutch Boy colors, barely able to hide his amusement. ďAnd he hasnít even begun to consider flat, gloss, or semiĒ, heíll say as my sobs become audible. I actually thought it would be a slam dunk. Run in, find the perfect color, and be out of there. I had a family BBQ to attend, plus some things to buy. Iíve painted before. Iíve done home projects. Why is this one any different? I know what my color palette is! Cheese and Rice, itís crazy. And itís not the holes in my head. Iíve been resisting this freaking move since I signed my lease. This is just another manifestation of my psyche. Or something. Which is why I need to numb it down on the weekends. Or not. I ended up just making it to my Auntís for dinner. I did take a hostess gift though. One should always bring a hostess gift, even if itís a bunch of Albertsonís flowers that were fresh on Friday and one is twenty minutes late already. Ahem, but I digress. To what, I havenít a clue. Whining aparantly.

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Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

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