2001-04-29 - 8:31 p.m.
"Underachievers of the world unite/you have nothing to lose except your pride/and together we can perhaps pass a night when/you'll know you were loved."
"I used to be with it, then they changed what "it" was. Now what I'm with isn't it, and "it" seems weird and scary to me."
-Grandpa Simpson
Formal was last night. I'm still trying to sort out how I feel about the whole sordid affair. There were no great blowups like the one that happened my freshman year. At least, none that I was aware of. All in all, I thought things went pretty well. Everyone seemed to find their niche, talking and/or drinking in groups at the bar, dancing occasionally. For my part, I was content to roam, never staying in one place too long, and to throw my shades on (even in near darkness) and gyrate horrifically on the dance floor.
I don't really dance, per se, but I do move with some semblance of rhythm and bobble my head and neck around a bit. It kind of seems to the untrained eye like a dumb white guy trying to dance.
To the trained eye, it seems like a dumb white guy having a seizure.
Yes, I succeded in my resolution to go home alone last night, for all who are curious. Ken did not score. And Ken drank some, both alone and in groups, but I didn't get very drunk at all.
My neck hurts. I wonder if epileptics every have that problem after a seizure. I know that a lot of people feel like I do after "dancing" all night.
However, I'm not complaining about my neck, as it draws my immediate attention away from the pain in my knees. Today was one of those bad days. Early on this morning, when I woke up for the first time, my left one wouldn't move.
I had to physically grasp my ankle and force my leg to bend, just to get it working. Most days aren't that bad, but there's generally some degree of pain every day. Today was a pretty bad day, though.
Usually I can show no weakness and even walk without a limp. Sometimes I get caught, however.
One time someone asked me why I never limp consistently from day to day, or even hour to hour. I had to explain the problems to him, and how the pain shifts areas and intensities on an almost random basis.
In all honesty, I don't think my knee problems are as bad as some people I know. I just make mine worse than others. Viola, for example, has problems that are potentially more debilitating than mine, but Viola never runs, dives, slides, uses a leg press, or generally moves at anything quicker than a slow amble. She takes care of herself.
Ah, for eternal life at age...hmmm...what would be the ideal age to live at forever. It'd have to be old enough to know better, but still young enough not to care......21 or 22 would be ideal.
My friend BT told me that I could live with him this summer for only $100 a month. I think I'll take it, even though he lives a long way from where I work. It's cheap. And BT is cool. I don't know him all that well, but we get along, and that's all I need.
Today I dressed up in formal attire to take pictures for Tammy's parents. Yeah, I let her use me. All that stuff about not pursuing fruitless dreams anymore was crap. I'll always be hopeless. It's part of me. I wear white t-shirts, I read comics, I behave in ways that should get me slapped, but I don't get slapped because I'm...I guess charismatic would be the closest term I could think of, but it's not quite what I mean, and I pursue hopelessness just so I'll have something romantic and idealistic to write about all the time. It's what I do. I should just accept that.
"Now you take Roscoe/he ain't much/people say things are ruined/after his touch/it's like a tar was dripping/from his brush but/you'll know you were loved."
�
