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

So, Drugs. They are bad. To quote Weetabix, I�m just saying.

But it usually means that I�m 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 I�m proud of that.

Anyway, this �confessional� 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. It�s 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. �Chauffi is a 27 year old man, living in Northern California� Robert Stack would say as I�m reduced to near tears by the paint section. �Notice his confusion between the Ralph Lauren paints and the Behr�. 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. �And he hasn�t even begun to consider flat, gloss, or semi�, he�ll 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. I�ve painted before. I�ve done home projects. Why is this one any different? I know what my color palette is! Cheese and Rice, it�s crazy. And it�s not the holes in my head. I�ve 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 Aunt�s for dinner. I did take a hostess gift though. One should always bring a hostess gift, even if it�s a bunch of Albertson�s flowers that were fresh on Friday and one is twenty minutes late already. Ahem, but I digress. To what, I haven�t a clue. Whining aparantly.

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