college

Stalked on the way home by what they said was an “undercover detective.” Yeah. As far as I’m concerned it was a creepy guy in a pickup truck that was stalking.

Law library, coffee, Deutsch-heit…

Yeah, it was some bullshit tonight. We explored Homestead/Goulds… which is always a ton of fun — the bingo palace, abandoned-industrial places…all of it including Taco Bell (holler)… but then we ended up in Cutler Ridge,

Yamile, who I haven’t seen in years, apparently moved back to Culter after almost a year in god knows where… and of course Jose, JHR, and Yamile got into a huge row. I stayed out of it. I always do.

Her and Jose were drunk and violent as usual, the three of us (Jose, JHR + me) left (read: ran) when Yamile ran back up to the apartment – we didn’t want to find out whether or not she was sober enough to find her brother’s gun.

What’s with so many people with guns? Granted, it’s just Yamile and Jose… but Hummie (from Goulds) was quick with a pistol too… sixteen year olds can’t legally own those can they?

The exploring should have been left in high school…between yesterday’s guard dogs and Yamile’s pistols – it’s getting too dangerous now.

Hopping around the docks, hoping we don’t get caught – how much longer can we do this? Mike is becoming as crazy as JHR.

It was nice to be back in the old neighborhoods. The construction on the 12th avenue bridge shut down the entire river, so the guards have been slacking….the only problem, as we found out, is that this doesn’t apply to the guard dogs. This is why the trip to McDonalds came in handy…

Yeah, we can’t do this much longer.

I’m continually amazed that I can be in a classroom for two months and not have facial recognition of everyone…where the hell did she come from?

Spent the day reading outside.

Tonight the dining hall’s dishwasher broke again. The plastic emergency-utensils, plates, and cups caused the whole tray drop-off area to overflow with garbage …it was really gross. They had about 7 employees working on it to varying degrees of success. There was even a student helping them.

The soda-fountain machines were broken too. Chartwells is decrepit.

Afterwards I met up with the partners-in-crime and we walked through the Gables to the Barnes & Noble on Miracle Mile. Got stuck in the Biltmore golf course on the way…but contrary to popular belief, that wasn’t my fault.

We had to wait for a seat in the café. It completely packed even at 10pm,…probably because people were leeching internet. I bought the PD James memoir. I’m excited.

I’ve been working on things for the new floor theme… giant turkeys mostly – who knew they had blue heads?

Silently throwing around baseballs at dawn with JHR and Mike. Afterparty at Starbucks with the pre-rush hour crew. We are a weird group.

And the entrance to Mikes apt is que ghetto:

Seeing a parrots, ibises, giant iguanas, and crocodiles on the way to class has become normal. I even see a fox once in a while. We even have mutant ducks. Some people call my school a resort – but in reality, it looks like a resort and acts like a zoo.

Woke up on Lily’s cheap futon with JHR drooling all over my sock. Harold was face down-on the floor, god knows where Lily and Michael ended up.

It’s always a long, miserable night when you’re already in Morningside by 11pm.

For homecoming they blew up the lake. I missed the fireworks my first three years…for good reason too — it was the most terrifying thing ever.

There was a CNN report on contemporary hate crimes in the work place: lynching, swastikas sprayed on doors, etc.

I thought, “What the hell is wrong with people?” and tried to imagine where these things happen…maybe Mississippi or somewhere…surely not Miami.

And then I remembered that I have faggot, nigger, or variations of those words (like battiman) written on my door at least twice a week. Hm.

In other news, I seem to have been transported into a movie…

The smiley old cashier at Publix said, “You look tired.”
The smug Walgreens cashier told me “You look exhausted.”

…since when did I become the Machinist? I get a full night of that dirty, hardcore snoring, farting, snot-nosed good sleep, and everyone tells me I look like crap.
Well everyone: I’m very rejuvenated right now thank you very much. Those must be excitement bags under my eyes from being the Jammy jam.

…Frugal with my money and jealous of my time.

Working, writing, and fiercely devoted to 8 hours of sleep… things are good.

Vintage Jansen right there…

…from back in the day when things were cool.