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October 5th, 2002

I took my truck to get a gas station car wash (read: lazy-style) today, but I had to traverse the entire frickin island to find one. My truck was covered in a braille of bird crap, and I wanted it off. So I payed my $4, and went into it. BRUSHLESS! Fi! I now have a layer of spray-wax covering my bird-crap.

So then, I thought it an awfully good time to buy a hand cannon. I drove into a pawn shop and looked at a couple, and went to buy a Ruger .357 - began filling out the paperwork, when I'm informed that it's illegal to sell a handgun to me because I have a Louisiana drivers license. This seedy-looking joe across the counter pawning something immediately looks up at me and says, 'hey, I can get you a pistol no problem, just come over to 17th and Broadway', and winks at me. So I go home, get my food outta the fridge (last night I cooked up some jambalaya, collard greens, and hot-water cornbread!!), and veg.
I hate the weekends here. I'm studying on and off for my CellBio test on tuesday. I wish it would just get dark. I am already ready for this phase of my life to be over with. I'm tired of living in student apartments and dealing with student issues. It's annoying and thankfully will soon be beneath me.

I heard from my mom that the lawyers did their job. Looks like I won't be getting that paralegal fired after all, since we're getting our money (though it is a crapload less of it than I expected). It doesn't directly affect me anyway, so I shouldn't bother.

I'm ready for this to get done.