Fuck you, Blogger. Blogger's BlogThis! function malfunctioned and lost my entry in the process. So what was I saying? Oh, yeah, someone listed me as a link because they like my design! *blush* Their design is really nice too. I'd prefer it if they liked my poetry, but you know, what can you do?:)

I had this whole narrative here about Coming Through Slaughter, which I finished this morning. The prof and I are so on the same wavelength, except I can't seem to get higher than a C in his class. It's not for lack of learning. It's for lack of structure in my essays. He's really big on structure. I'm usually a fan of it too, but this is like asking Haley Joel Osment to play Henry V. My thinking and communication skills are just not evolved enough for me to come to effective conclusions and present them adequately. Coming Through Slaughter was so good. I read most of it aloud. Then, this morning, the prof was all "You guys should try reading this aloud." Heh. The novel was so effective with me that I didn't need the lecture. Every point the prof made I'd already seen in the text, which is something for me. It was so pretty. Like a meal so delicious you want to hold it in your mouth and not swallow.

Then I had this whole anecdote about the thief at Blockbuster. I went to my old store today because I needed kitty litter from the Valumart next door. I hung out for a while with Jon and Derek. It's funny, we all have the same hair, only different lengths of it. Jon is "before", Derek is "during" and I'm "after". I found out more details about the robbery that happened there Monday night, that D had already told me about actually. Some guy had a bag of about 40 DVDs and headed out the entrance door somehow. Derek went and slammed the door shut on the guy, squeezed him for a moment but the guy got away, so Dustin chased him down the street, caught up with him, tackled him, punched him in the head, broke his glasses and sat on him till the police came. Some customers helped too. I keep making fun of Derek because the way he told me the story on Monday night he said "So, I held the door, and Dustin ran out and caught the guy." So I called him a hero for holding the door. Must remember never to do anything like that at my store. If I tried that at my store, I'd probably get shot. And any other customers around would probably join the thieves, or at least turn around and continue browsing. That's what happened with the guy who stole the Gamecube games. Dude walks in and grabs a whole pile of Gamecube games while Khurran and I are swamped with a huge line and customers standing blocking our view of the section (I was actually just coming from the back room, but had I been standing at the register I couldn't have seen the games). Khurran doesn't see the dude of course. But the customers facing him and the ones standing in line can. And do, actually see him. Apparently, you can watch them watch him on the videotape. Fuckers didn't say anything. Now I have to talk to a detective and look at pictures. And I have no fucking clue about this guy. Grr.
Posted by hKath at 12:37 AM ()

=============================

Wednesday, January 15

woo! Yay for filler no one wants to comment on :)

I'm reading Coming Through Slaughter by Michael Ondaatje for a class tomorrow. It's terrific. I'm about halfway through it, which means it'll probably only take me another 2 hours to read. I really have to be done before I get to class, because I don't want the prof to ruin it for me. :P

Last night, Dave and I ridiculed Stephan, this idiot kid from work. We did it all night. We just couldn't get over how stupid he was not to get that we were making fun of him, so we kept making fun of him. I can't feel sorry. He's a fucking asshole.
Posted by hKath at 1:06 AM ()

=============================

Tuesday, January 14

Abecedarian poem (for class):

acid breakfast

citrus dampness exhaled from grasping hands

inside juicy kiwis

lips melt

your zodiac.

=============================

Monday, January 13

I really feel lately like my friends are abandoning me one by one. I don't feel liked. And worst of all, I feel like it's my fault, but no one's telling me what I'm doing wrong. I feel attacked, lonely, depressed and restless, as well as forced into a situation that I don't want to be in. I feel apprehensive. I feel isolated. Panicked, frustrated, scared, sad. Depressed. A few things happen when I get this way. The first is that I want to scream really badly, but can't for fear of attracting any kind of attention. The second and strongest is that I want to get under something. The desk. My pillow. I want to get into a car trunk, into the drop box at work, just under something. Anything. More and more, my socialist outlook gets me into trouble with capitalists. Capitalists I didn't even know were living right alongside me. Sigh.
Posted by hKath at 1:57 AM ()

=============================