::10.01.2004::
“Today is a good day to die.”

Damn my parent’s took me out to dinner tonight and asked me if I’d like a margarita. I said, “Sure, I’ll have one,” and what do they do? They order a whole pitcher and end up getting me really drunk. This doesn’t begin to describe the weird-ness of the day.

It all started with my French class. I got up at about 11:45 this morning, and my class starts at 12:30, so needless to say I was late getting to class today, but not by much, and we didn’t really have anything of vital importance going on today. Towards the end of class today the professor paired off the class to work on a dialogue due in next week, and of course I get paired with the ‘really-hot-and-completely-out-of-my-league’ girl in the class. She and I work through the assignment and start talking, and I swear to god if I didn’t know any better she started to hit on me. We got to talking and it turns out that she’s a singer and works at the Mellow Mushroom in Alpharetta as a waitress. She knows how to play piano and is working on learning to play guitar. Anyhow before I know it, we’re talking about each other’s schedules and are trying to work out a time when we can hangout and just jam. Needless to say she’s coming over to my place next Tuesday. Alan = Happy.


After that I had lunch and ended up going out to the courtyard and falling asleep under a tree until my art appreciation class. I walk into class and the teach hands me the last quiz I took, and then stops me, asking to read my shirt. I didn’t realize it but this morning I had thrown on my “If your offended by this shirt then show me your tits,” jersey. This was rather embarrassing as my professor is in her early thirty’s and embodies the ‘really-cool-black-sheep-older-sister’ stereotype like the sister in “Almost Famous”. She then began class by giving us this spiel about how most everyone did badly on the last couple quizzes and how most people didn’t put their names on a couple. Then she mentioned the fact that there were a couple of names she couldn’t make out, doing everything but pointing directly at me and calling out my name. I’ll admit, my signature sucks, but isn’t pointing out the guy who’s already embarrassed a bit uncalled for? Alan = Asshat.

After class a group of us were having a discussion with the professor, and part of it is still haunting me so to speak.

TEACH: "You know statistically a majority of artist's are so clinically depressed they end up killing themselves, so statistically speaking, art major's are studying to go out into the world, create works of art, then commit suicide."

ME: "You know why, don't you?"

TEACH: "Well, I would think because they realize they won't make any money from their art until they're dead."

ME: "While probably true in some respects, I've always believed that as an artist one must be able to see the beauty in everything in order to recreate beauty. And to create beauty and have no one understand said beauty is a very disheartening thing. That and as an artist one seldom searches ones own life to find that beauty, and to not see the beauty in being an artist is basically to lose one's faith in being."

TEACH: "Were it not for the fact that you sound as though you speak from experience I'd think you'd be better suited as a philosophy major. There is also a flaw in your theory."

ME: "And what would that be?"

TEACH: "What about those artist's that don't kill them selves?"

ME: "They are the ones that you've got to look out for, because they are the ones with the ability to see it all."

TEACH: "You watch yourself. I may end up giving out the first 'A' to a 'B' student."

While the premise of my getting an ‘A’ in the only class that I’m really worried about is awesome, but the philosophical view that I spouted out was a bit perturbing. Alan = taken aback.

Then the whole dinner with my parents’ thing… They know I drink, they don’t care that I do, but they never buy me alcohol unless it’s a holiday, and even then they really aren’t buying me the booze, they are buying the booze for the collective group of people who are involved in said celebration. Needless to say that between this and my history with substance abuse, drinking to get drunk is not very appealing to me anymore, but apparently to my parents getting me to a state between tipsy and drunk is highly amusing. Alan = ready for a goodnight sleep.

>> Alan spun round and round on 10/01/2004 11:45:00 AM