There's been a little communication going on 'twixt other people and me about this diary today. That's fun. Despite the fact that one communique accused me of being a ghost writer for an internet tyrant ("Dear Emaline, I strongly suggest you stop fucking with me."), and another told me to keep my music critiques to myself when it comes to dashboard confessional, it's just nice to know that someone's reading. hey says ginger.

The raw-sewage-in-the-yard problem has been fixed. Well, actually it's still there, but at least it's not supposed to be adding unto itself anymore. I won't go into anymore graphic detail than the conversation Rachelle overheard through the window while showering this morning:
Plumber One:Whoa, what is this?
Plumber Two:I don't know.........looks like some shit.

I'm thinking of getting a third alarm clock for two reasons. 1. Sometimes two just doesn't do the trick. Yes I know the routine: Set them for slightly different times, put one out of reach so you have to get out of bed to turn it off, etc. But my body is tricky and does not give a damn for my art history review. 2. There's a lovely Eloise alarm clock on Ebay. Skipperdee the turtle licks eloise's face. oh it's so cheesy and I just want it. grrrruffff.

I really should mention the fact that last week Tiffany, Brasher, and I stayed up until 6 am watching television. The remarkable things about this were that I only have 4 channels, I don't even usually like tv, and we didn't even attempt to do anything else for about FIVE HOURS. A tall goofy guy I graduated high school with now co-hosts Mississippi's NWA wrestling program. His job is to run around outside of the ring and pretend to pull his hair out when "Brother Love" gets hit with a folding chair. I guess that makes him the first in our class to get famous. We also watched BattleDome which is almost exactly like American Gladiators, except on BattleDome when you lose the Gladiator gets to hump you on national television. ehhh. For equally idiotic fare I suggest Pamela Anderson Lee's new show V.I.P.. Wow, I can't even make a joke about it. She just wears pink colored sunglasses that are bigger than her face and pretends to be a bodyguard.

My legs hurt, yes they do yes they do. The darkroom is no good for you. hootie hoo.