I guess I should put something here.

Here. This horse eats McDonald's and sleeps in a bed! He's like Mister Ed, but less cool, and probably poops more.

My life sucks and I hate studying for the bar. Also, it's very hot, and there are now mosquitoes and snails everywhere. I will probably fail the bar. I did well in Contracts, but Contracts, is, apparently, a heap of shit. Fuck you, Contracts.

I have nothing to say to anybody, and prefer solitude to being with people. Thank goodness I spend 10 hours in front of a book, every day.

I'm breaking out. I haven't Naired my back in forever. I'm hairy.

I think I'm going to start wearing the thousands of dollars worth of old Diesel Jeans I've stocked up and stopped wearing once they've gone out of style (White patches on the legs and ass, Dirty Green-Jeans circa 2001, yes, those fateful jeans on which I spent the last of Dara's rent money, plunging myself into JeansandLiquorGate 2002...) just to make a statement. That statement will probably be that it's a good thing I stopped buying Diesel, because it's always fit me really weird in the ass. Maybe because I don't have one. Or maybe the statement is that I shouldn't be wearing Euro-Fit jeans from 2002. Perhaps the statement will be that the jeans that I bought with a 33" waist were too big for me when I was a 32", and now that I'm back down to a 30", they're like clown pants. Hee.hee.hee.

I'm just a ray of fucking sunshine lately. Hi, Chauncey.

That reminds me. There's this one kid in my class that I hate. (Gee, that sounds familiar...) And no, it's not any of you reading this blog. Don't worry. But by class, I mean not like classroom, but like "grade." I guess I'm not really even in a grade anymore (which is sad...if I had gone on to my LLM, I could have been in 20th grade, but I dropped out after 19th grade.) but you know what I mean. My "year."

I won't expound on him, but this kid basically embodies everything I hate about people in Miami. He's lazy, he's cocky, he's self-entitled, he talks loudly in the library, he never shows up to class (THANK GOD!) and if he does, he rolls in late, he's self-centered, self absorbed (unjustifiably so, he's sort of cute, but only if you squint...), and he's the kind of guy that will roll in five minutes before the group finishes the group project that he couldn't be bothered to help with, and says, "Hey guys, you gotta let me do something on it so I can put my name on it, because I was at lunch." (TRUE STORY! NO APOLOGY!)

I see him, almost never. And whenever I do, a blood vessel in my eye bursts, because I dislike him so intensely. I actually would doubt that he even knows my name, because 1) I've spoken to him a total of one time, and 2) I don't "roll" with his "Doral" crew, so I really didn't even know this kid's name until he was in one of my classes this year...and annoyed the shit out of me. I imagine that he's the type of person who litters, who will push all of the buttons of an elevator as he gets off of it, who wipes boogers on public telephone receivers, and he's probably kicked a puppy or two, while...littering. I just keep imagining him littering, and it's making my blood pressure GO UP SO MUCH. UGH. HE'S ALWAYS LITTERING, and TALKING ON HIS PHONE DURING THE MOVIE, AND MAKING FUN OF OLD PEOPLE!

Today I was studying in the Undergrad library, and suddenly, the cloister-like silence of the nearly empty library was shattered by constant whispering, just barely audible, like a mosquito buzzing in my ear, or like right before something awful happens in a horror movie and you hear that ghostly staticky whispering. I wouldn't have been so bothered by it if it wasn't HIM!

INTRUDING UPON MY SECLUSION!

I'm a little off-balance lately, if I ever was on balance to begin with. A vein now throbs in my forehead. All. The. Time. I don't think a 24-year-old should have that, but I'm really looking forward to my ulcer, and my inevitable death-by-apoplexy one day. I wish I could commit to something... like meditation or Yoga.

But all I can really commit to is freaking out about stuff/on people and that's the way it's gonna be for a while. I'm so jealous of all those "laid-back" type people out there. HOW DO THEY DO IT?! HOW DO THEY NOT CARE INTENSELY ABOUT EVERYTHING, AND NOT PICK APART THE MINUTIAE OF DAILY LIFE, OBSESSING ABOUT THINGS, AND OVERANALYZING, AND BLOWING OTHER PEOPLE'S PROJECTED REACTIONS WAY OUT OF PROPORTION?!

I wonder when I became so tightly wound. The more I think about it, I know why I'm uber wound up lately. It's because I miss an old friend. And no, it's not a person. It's a treat for right before bedtime, that helps increase my level of apathy, and cuts the stress in half.

I miss you, buddy. I imagine everyone that knows me misses you too, as I'm suddenly about as volatile as a keg full of gunpowder in a matches factory...