I have a feeling that the roll of film I developed today for this young woman was not, in fact taken by the young woman. I don't know the exact story behind it, but I speculate that it goes something like this:
These kids, maybe first-years in college, maybe high school seniors or something, around that age, have this party. They are drinking plastic bottle rum and vodka, maybe someone brought a bottle of malibu. They have a case of Natty Light in cans or something equivalent. The thing is, the door to the bathroom at this house doesn't lock, maybe it was an old house or a little house or a trailer home or something, all those would be consistent with the pictures but it couldnt be specifically verified by them. So someone, my guess is not the woman who brought the film in, decided that the unlockable bathroom door created the opportunuity for some exceptional photo ops. The entire roll of film, literally all 24 pictures, were shots of various women with their pants around their ankles on the toilet. Most of them seemed to be reacting in surprise, as if someone had just unexpectedly opened the bathroom door and taken a picture of them. Some of them moved to cover their faces, some to cover other areas which, the fact of the matter is, couldnt really be seen from that angle anyway. Some of them appeared to just be screaming or unable to react quickly enough. Basically, I think that the photographer simply waited for someone to go into the bathroom before busting in on them flash a'blazin'.
Now that I think about it, I wonder if what you reach to cover when someone is attempting to photograph you on the toilet says anything about your personality. I am just working this out obviously, but there are somewhat similar studies, things that say things about you when you have no chance to think about them, only to react. Maybe covering one's face indicates that YOU don't want to be seen on the toilet, whereas covering the lower region indicates that you don't want to be seen ON THE TOILET. That distinction seems stupider to me as I think about it, but maybe there is some hidden merit. Work is so fucking boring.
I forgot to mention that I am actually typing this at the WMPC. I am not online, just typing it into Notepad on our little Photographic Imaging Controller, but still, its a much better use of time on the clock than doing anything which benefits the Wal-Mart bottom line. At the most I think I have 23 more days of working here for the summer. Thank fucking assshit for that, because I couldnt handle anything more. I will desperately need the break in Minneapolis to recover from the dipfuckingasscock that is constant back pain and stupid fucking customers.
I am quitting smoking tomorrow, seriously, it is my last day as a smoker this July 20th, 2003. It really scares me, I am very very nervous about the concept, but what do you do. I guess I will just suck it up and roll with it. At least I have Monday off, I need that first day without anything to do if I will even have a chance. The first day back at work without a cigarette however, that being Tuesday, scares the pants off me. I have no idea how I will survive it. I guess I will just bring a couple dozen doses of advil and drink lots of water. I have been told that eases the effects of withdrawl and expediates any physical symptoms. I don't know that the problems will really be physical, I imagine that it will just be a very very strong desire to smoke, but what the fuck do I know. I love you cigarettes. You have been a very important part of my life, with me through virtually every significant moment, and I will miss you. Believe me when I say that I will never stop loving you. Beautiful beautul tobacco. I will visit you in cigar form at some point, but not for a while. YOu made me a much much cooler person for the last six years, thank you.
I won't be mentioning cigarettes for a while hopefully, as talking about smoking always makes me want to smoke. The less I think about the act of smoking the easier this will be for me. Enough, no more smoking.
Katie comes home tomorrow. That is the bright side of July 20th, 2003. At least by attaching a happy event to the date I cannot rue it, at least I don't think that rue-ing it would be appropriate. I have been really really bored and really really lonely for the past 2ish weeks, probably even more so than during school. School rarely provided me with any real interaction or contact with "friends" certainly, but it was infinately more engaging than the average Wal-Mart conversation, which is limited by my infamiliarty with the people, our differences in interest, and the constraints of work. At least at school there is constant thinking and interaction going on. I can handle people talking about philosophy/psychoanalysis much better than I can standing and waiting on customers. Even if when either one is over I just go home and watch TV alone. Thankfully, however, that time is nearly behind us and come tomorrow I will not have to be alone.
I hit up the BBQ joint down the street last night, One-Eyed Jacks, to celebrate my day off. I know that celebrating one's day off is a little weird, but I have very little going for me right now. Absent that I would have celebrated my day off by staying inside all day, which kinda sucks. Anyway, this place is really quite good. I have only been there like two or three times, which is ridiculous in comparison to how much I like BBQ. I have not yet had the chicken, only the brisket, the pulled pork, and the ribs, all of which rizock. They have decent BBQ baked beans, but nothing to write home about (fuck, I am writing home about them right now...) and their garlic bread is a to the g. They even have a pretty good spicy BBQ sauce that I would be willing to buy a bottle of in the situation where I was not encouraged enough to make my own. That might be the suckiest thing about living in this apartment, I havent had a good old Q in almost a fucking year. Believe that shit. Shake ya' tailfeather!
Speaking of which, I know P. Diddy takes alot of shit for his gratuitous sampling and stuff, but I kind of like the dude's voice. I mean, obviously you gotta respect what he has done, dude is making a fucking killing with that record label, and I don't even know who is on it. Though I am not the primary hip hop/rap audience. Nonetheless, I think he is kinda cool. I don't like alot of his songs, mainly because I think sampling Sting and singing rap lyrics over it is hella lame, but when he is doing cool melodies and shit its a-ight. He has this one line in "Shake Ya' Tailfeather" where he rhymes playa' with playa': brilliant.
Thank everything holy, it is time to close the register and go home. Another day at Wal-Mart draws to a close and I am very happy man. Anyway, until next time folks. Keep it real. Fibbedy foo-dop waaa....
Peace,
MB-K
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