Shut Your Mouth and Open Your Eyes

Friday, June 03, 2005

Welcome to the Soldier Side

Well I told myself I'd update my blog, and here I am.

Yesterday wasn't the best of days. I got a parking ticket for parking at the most obscure of intersections near St Pats, and got a ticket for parking too close to the intersection. It's an expensive lesson learned. At lunch I locked my keys in my car and had to get my mom to bail me out. I made up for it today by doing not much work at all. I can only imagine the shitty odd jobs they're going to have to make up for me to do during the summer.

The night before, I lost 30 bucks playing poker. Yes, I know. "But Kevin, you said you'd never go in deeper than 20 per week!". Well guess what. I'm addicted. The twenty didn't last me that long. I didn't even lose out on any big hands, I just didn't get any decent hands. My last one was good, a pair of kings and tens on the flop, but the other guy turned a flush...I should have gone all in on the flop rather than on the turn, but he would have called it I'm sure.

For yet another summer, my basment is infested with ants. I just sent another one off to burial at sea. I wonder how many of those fuckers there are down here, how long they'll stay, and how the fuck they're getting in.

My sister is finally moved in to her place. Awesome. Well, she's still around the house, but it won't be long before she makes the big move. She's having a party tonight, and I might drag some friends over to see it.

I was working at St. Margaret's the other day. I saw Chantal Bourret (well, rather she saw me first). We didn't go much beyond saying hello to each other. We weren't close in the slightest through high school, but we were best friends in grade 2. The thing is, I have no recollection of it at all. I know that we were friends, but I can't remember anything beyond that. I almost wanted to ask her out for coffee to see what her life has been like, but once again, my fear of a boyfriend chased me off. I talked to her mom too, who teaches there. She remembered me (but she knew I was going to be at the school that day). I'm kinda curious. I'd like to see some pictures of the two of us.

Ah, Laura. You're the best. I love you in a very specific way. Even though we're sarcastic with one another, I know that you do so with an underlying friendly love. Things may not have worked out between us in a relationship sense, but I love how we get along! Thanks for being you, and listening to me when I have self-esteem issues.

Stella Deus is out now, aparently. As I figured, I can't find it at Blockbuster. I've got too many games to consider buying it, but it does look good. I am a decently large fan of SRPGs, but nothing comes close to FFT. The artwork and environments in Stella Deus is breathtaking though. I rarely seem to be in the mood to play video games anymore. I've been playing some Burnout 3 lately, but my skills are waning, so I'm not sure how much more I can unlock without ripping my hair out. Like I said, I have too many games, but I never have the desire to finish any of them.

Next term's schedule looks pretty shitty. All my courses will be math and CS, and I have 4.5 hours straight on Tuesday and Thursday. The block is too early to get up for early lunch or late breakfast, and runs too late to get a normal lunch. I'll have to figure something out or starve to death. At least I'll have at least one friend to hang out with when I'm in Waterloo.

My hair is getting a little long. When I say 'long', what I mean is that it looks deformed when I sleep on it and don't put any effort into it. I don't know if I want to try shaving it myself, or paying through the teeth for another haircut. My razor isn't working too well on my beard either. It still leaves it a bit long...but who cares, eh? It's a lot less effort than using the mach 3 to shave it right down.

I wonder what this weekend will be like? Who knows.

Listening to... Bloc Party - Like Eating Glass
Link of the moment... I hope some people will go to this with me, and I hope there is decent weather for it.

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