10:36 p.m.

Tuesday, Mar. 21, 2006

Killed the juice box

I was planning to start my weekend story a couple days back, like Sunday night, as I had referred to in my previous entry. However, my computer refusted, outrightly, to maintain any connection to the internet and I was unable to do anything that didn't involve an error message that such-and-such site was not able to load. Drove me a little crazy it did. More or less than my usual crazyness is unknown. On the flipside, now my connection has somehow improved--knock on whatever wood-particles that my computer desk is made of--by keeping a constant connection, meaning I can download music and necessary information that takes more than a second. Although, sometimes the connecting to a page takes butt long (I am not quite sure where I got that expression, but somehow it fits), but having the ability to sit at home and download my favorite radio programming is worth the sometimes long page loads. Before, I had an intermittent connection so I was looking at the internet through the various 'holes of connection' I'd get. It was an interesting experience to get used to, however still maintained an air of annoyance like a person that annoys you. Totally.

Well, I am rambling on when I meant to give a short pause message on my writing about the exploits of my drinking weekend--the weekend that is different, for me, than most. Referring to it as a drinking weekend, though, makes me not want to talk about it because it sounds very common/frat boy or bro-ish. Or maybe just more than, what I imagine really, more than half the blogs out there contain. "Whoa, got drunk again. I can't wait to got out wit my bros tonight. I think I totally look boss in my jetta." Then the comments section is full with, "John says- Yeah buddy, we's going out tonight" and "Simone says- Hey Franky Frank, you totally look hot in your jetta (hearts)!!!" and well, doesn't that just about sum it up? I guess I forgot the entry that is just a bunch of letters and numbers as if written in some clever computer language, but alas it's really just another drinking bro who's 3-days hung over and hitting buttons on the keyboard. The real mystery lies in how he got to his bro's site and directed himself to the comments section. Bookmarked page and muscle memory is my guess.

Internet muscle memory: Visting the same sites, everyday, multiple times, and making comments.

Jeas, off track again. This is almost a real entry. Well, my point was that I have a mid-term tomorrow as well some reading to complete for my other class, so I would not be starting my weekend stories till at least after class tomorrow. If I am up for some typing tomorrow night, maybe I'll start then. For now, I am going to eat a chocolate ghost cookie from halloween.

I get to apply my own frosting, sprinkles, and jelly things. To my specifications.

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