Marc
Scooter McB, You Are My Friend. -- Scooter McB on his very own, very personal website
One. Not quite sure what the topics should be tonight. Maybe something like, why did I choose to write about four different things per post after the site's second birthday? That hasn't seemed like too big of a demand on myself until tonight, right now, sitting at my little brother's computer. Again, I'm also amazed at the lack of privacy one experiences when confined within this particular household. I had to move various musical equipment, instruments, and furniture around to squeeze in a place to sleep, and was awakened by the sound of people teetering around on the floor above my head. There are people constantly running up and down stairs, into living rooms and kitchens, and needing to go places. I remember why I like living away from home now -- it's so much more calm.
Two. My grandpa complimented me on my shaggy hair-do this afternoon. He said I looked "snazzy" and "hip". I hate to say it, but my 80-something-year-old grandfather knows more about being hip than I do. I'm just happy I have hair at all. Once it gets past a certain length my temptation is to just shave it all off. Luckily, this girl I know, also very hip and snazzy, was willing to give me a haircut for free. And here I stand today, a hip boy who surrounds himself with hipsters.
Three. Section Two today gets a 7.5 on the gay scale. What the hell is wrong with me? I can't even force myself to erase it. It's so lame, I'm leaving it up to remind myself what not to be like on future days.
Four. I plan on spending the rest of break reading. Today, Down the Asphalt Path: The Automobile and the American City by Clay McShane. Tomorrow, sections from two books on ethnicity and immigration in American history. Thursday, stuff about Bourbonnais. Shoot me.
Up Next: "Walk On" by the Smoking Popes; "Jumpin' Jumpin'" by Destiny's Child; and "Summertime vs. Punk Routine" by Refused.
Tomorrow: Paying for the car repairs.
Scooter McB, You Are My Friend. -- Scooter McB on his very own, very personal website
One. Not quite sure what the topics should be tonight. Maybe something like, why did I choose to write about four different things per post after the site's second birthday? That hasn't seemed like too big of a demand on myself until tonight, right now, sitting at my little brother's computer. Again, I'm also amazed at the lack of privacy one experiences when confined within this particular household. I had to move various musical equipment, instruments, and furniture around to squeeze in a place to sleep, and was awakened by the sound of people teetering around on the floor above my head. There are people constantly running up and down stairs, into living rooms and kitchens, and needing to go places. I remember why I like living away from home now -- it's so much more calm.
Two. My grandpa complimented me on my shaggy hair-do this afternoon. He said I looked "snazzy" and "hip". I hate to say it, but my 80-something-year-old grandfather knows more about being hip than I do. I'm just happy I have hair at all. Once it gets past a certain length my temptation is to just shave it all off. Luckily, this girl I know, also very hip and snazzy, was willing to give me a haircut for free. And here I stand today, a hip boy who surrounds himself with hipsters.
Three. Section Two today gets a 7.5 on the gay scale. What the hell is wrong with me? I can't even force myself to erase it. It's so lame, I'm leaving it up to remind myself what not to be like on future days.
Four. I plan on spending the rest of break reading. Today, Down the Asphalt Path: The Automobile and the American City by Clay McShane. Tomorrow, sections from two books on ethnicity and immigration in American history. Thursday, stuff about Bourbonnais. Shoot me.
Up Next: "Walk On" by the Smoking Popes; "Jumpin' Jumpin'" by Destiny's Child; and "Summertime vs. Punk Routine" by Refused.
Tomorrow: Paying for the car repairs.
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