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Listening to: From the Choirgirl Hotel. Not for long, though... it's not really matching my mood quite like I was expecting it too.

Currently Reading: Just barely started Jonathan Lethem's Gun, With Occasional Music. Kind of saving it for the train, as well as a stack of others (both fiction and non). Also, I recently read Laurie Notaro's I Love Everybody (and Other Atrocious Lies): True Tales of a Loudmouth Girl (again) in like two days, and peed myself laughing. Highly recommended. I also devoured The Broke Diaries by Angela Nissel in, like, a mere few days. Laughed until I peed. Also highly recommended.

Wishing: income. Lots of it. Other than that, life's pretty good.

I couldn't be more The current mood of ronkc@diaryland.com at www.imood.com right now.

Buy "Civilised Conversation..." Merchandise! Please? All the cool kids are doing it....

Please help me pay for college by purchasing items from Amazon.com through this link!!

Do you love me?

30 October 2002 | 2:15 PM

Well, Good.

Okay.

When you go into a liberry, what do you like to do? Read? Sit quietly and flip through a magazine? Study?

Yeah. Me, too.

It lets a little challenging, though, especially when I'm sitting here, and not 20 or 30 feet away from me, a young man and a young woman are sitting at a table, notebooks open, granted, talking. Quietly, but audibly. It's very distracting, and I can't get any work done.

He's drinking a Mountain Dew, and eating Cheetos. She's drinkin Mountain Dew Code Red, and eating baked potato chips.

When they're not talking, they're crunching. When they're not crunching, talking. I'm tempted to throw my pen at them.

Only then I would be out of a pen.

Quite the conundrum, no?

Gadies and Lentil-men, please promise me you won't get noiy in any libraries. I may throw my pen at you.

Then there's this other woman. Her cell phone just rang. First, turn off your cell phone when entering the liberry, like the sign says. Second, when it does ring, turn it off, don't answer it. And don't talk longer than it takes to say, "I'm in the liberry. Let me call you back later." Instead, I get an earfulla this: "Studying! What are you doing??"

In the time it took me to write that last paragraph, she had ended her conversation. Seconds later, the phone rings again. And she answers it again. Didn't she just hear me writing about her? Dammit!

(Later)

She kept talking. When I heard her say, "that's no way to proposition a girl!!" I had had enough. I mustered up the ovaries to walk around the bookshelf, buuk in left hand, pen in the right, and just glared at her with a semi-apathetic look that said, "Oh, come now, Chatty Cathy." I continued to look at her, until she looked up at me and said into her phone, "Oh, I don't think I'm supposta be on my phone in the liberry. I'll hafta call you back."

That's right.

When she was done, I turned around and walk back to my seat, and sat down, more satisfied than I have been in a long, long time.

While I was writing that last paragraph, she just packed up all her shit and left.

Well, good.

So, here's a question: How many of you, dear readers, would be interested in a sort of Thanksgiving-themed Secret Santa program? I would administrate for y'all, and I would call it, "Secret Turkey 2002!!" Email me, or sign the guestbook if you're interested! Yay!!

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