It’s easiest to just talk about what happened as a timeline, naturally. And to read over that, it’s actually kinda hard too – because I talked with her, and talked with him, and saw that, and saw this – what did I really think about it? Otherwise it’s dry and empty. So, there has to be more descriptors I guess. It’s not just a planner weblog, it’s a fill-in-the-blank novel diary thingamajig that will go down in history as the collective ramblings of Byron M. Kho, esquire. Nope, not esquire with a capital E, because no lawyer here. Wait, that would also cover little e esquire too. Damn.

Randi told me how she went over to Alanna’s place (for dinner, I’m presuming, with Molly too) and they were going over things. Apparently, Alanna keeps a lot of stuff, and she had an old note of mine, asking her to wake me up on some exam day or something. It’s “classic Byron”, or so I’ve been told. It’s kind of embarrassing, but kind of endearing. At least all of them seem to think so. Randi shocked me too: she went and ran a half marathon around Center City last weekend. She did! 13 miles! 7.5 minutes a mile! She’s cute when she gets all excited, and she totally was – she said she felt so good about it, she was gonna do it again, real soon. She did, however, express misgivings over running an actual marathon. I asked why, and she told me it was too much of a mental challenge, and I can’t run that much, etc. I told her yes, and the psychological rewards are much greater… then she threw another back at me. Why don’t you run a double marathon? I said..um, no. At least not now, when I can’t throw 4 hours away for practice a day, when all I will do is come home tired, sweaty and crippled. Crippled, you ask? At this point, yes, since running has been last on the list for the past month. I am sure I am out of shape now.

Sigh, JMal. I saw her over at PSA on Thursday. I miss her a lot. She’s going to Puerto Rico for Fall Break, and leaving next semester for London. And I’m still here, waiting. You know, I think a visit tomorrow is in the works.

Sourabh tells all these weird stories all the time. They’re funny – just weird. I’m sure he thinks the same of all my stories. But he has all these funny stalker people, and to whom he’s too nice, and the whole time he complains about their weirdness, he still talks with them like nothing happened and they’re great, so was there stalking? And everything is definitely “weird”. Which includes me (I already knew that one). He likes the AC on all the time, even when he complains it’s cold outside. And he always takes naps. But he’s definitely a funny kid, just more open with his mouth than most people. Which is good; he should go into public relations or marketing, he’d shine. Biochem job? Pshaw!

Aparna is just crazy. Now who got the hooch?

Jenny Heck, thanks for the great party. And all those people! And private stocks! Thank god for you (and Poe coming over, and Ed, and your crazy drunk friend, and all those other things like the Nu and scandals and affairs and gossip and still being embroiled in the midst), I might have left early from that shindig just because I could.

I do realize that Mates of State’s music all sounds the same. But who cares? Whoever can combine organs, drums and two bad voices that sound good together deserves to be played. Over and over and over again. “We don’t need to drive….hang us out to dry!” The Kissaway is an awesome song.

I just made a Kill Bill (-style) cd. That movie – is just fucking great. The music is sooo good too. Nancy Sinatra doing Bang Bang just made me wanna study, just so I could listen to the song. It’s kind of weird to play otherwise. And then Lucy Liu doing, “I will collect your fucking head.” Proceeding right into some Los Lobos to even out the flava. Even a great clip of Juliette Lewis. “I want you to eat my pussy….right now.” And then we got the Green Hornet, some Japanese cheesy crap, the Duel music, some RZA mix and some good times.

Well, I should do at least some shoutouts – here’s to Xanga (which I should really post to, but here’s good enough, I say)! It’s all good – here’s to Red All Over and Cielolibre, here’s to Rob and Molly and all those I did read this summer. It kept me going.

I take some words for granted. Like motherfucker. It’s such a classy word. Hurt yourself? “Aw, motherfucker son of a bitch!” Life sucks? “Motherfucking hell… why me?” Really angry? “Motherfucker! I’se gon’ kill you!” Conversation piece? “So yo, last night was motherfuckin’ awesome!” Mainly because I don’t use it much any more, but seeing it used is just so great. Tracy (man, she’s so crazy, she must be blazed full time!) saying motherfucker in that, “guys, you HAVE to put back the fucking tags!” voice. And then Assad saying “muuutherfuck” (and then Vic) after a particularly good pass. Speaking of Assad and Tracy – Thursday night was SO motherfuckin’ awesome (there we go, got it in there!). God. Intense was the word. Ya gotta give it to the Infamous three, they really know how to throw a “dinner” party. Sonalie made some cookies too, they were so awesome. And Megan should SO not be a vegetarian. What’s with nurses and vegetarianism? I brought in some vodka and amaretto reinforcements. After 3 hours, I was floating on a cloud. I mean, really floating. By the time we got to Charades, I was too fucking high to stand up and act shit out.

Mmm. Death Cab for Cutie.

I just beat No One Lives Forever yesterday, Took me a while. I missed out on the whole day. Stupid video games. And IM. And phone. It was midnight before I got outside. How fucked up is that? Oh, and I got a call from Lisa Rhoades. But I was still a little hazy (seriously, I could still smell the quality stuff on me) and was like, call back in a half hour. Knowing her, she probably got so trashed and drunk and is still lying in the backyard of some frat house. If you can read this, pretend you didn’t. Thanks.

It’s funny that it’s Parent’s Weekend. I told my parents not to come this weekend. They said OK. It’s also Diwali. I told my parents not to come for Diwali. They said OK. But then they said – um, I kinda need to do some shopping at… Let me guess. Franklin Mills, Italian Market, King of Prussia. How’d you know? Aw, you know your parents so well. OK, we’re coming up. But not this weekend.

Do I want to play tonight for FamPAN? No, not really. I want to get real drunk and storm the stage. But then, Lauren Levy would kick my ass. Not only that, she would kick my ass while singing really great opera-style about it, and loud enough so the entire world could hear about it. And then Molly would go ballistic on me. And then… that would so not be cool. The stage storming. For goodness knows, I do the other often enough that it has to be cool by now.

Where is la petite Fehder? Am I supposed to wait for her to show up? But Cece is here, so it’s OK, I guess. Funny story. So Lizz broke her leg, right? And we’re talking about how it’s healing. “Ooh, Lizz’s first steps,” I say. And then she goes “yeah, right! Baby can walk!”. Then – “my brother is such a piece of shit. He wanted to have the boots bronzed.” I think I died. That was hilarious!! Uh oh, gotta go.

i was meaning to say that it’s really really easy to get it all wrong, once you start with the wrong idea. too bad i always start with the wrong idea. you build on it, and build on it, and then you end up having to trash it all and start over again when it’s actually a teensy bit different from what i thought it was.

meaning to say?

so there was this one time, walking down locust walk. i see her. i’m like, screw this, she hates me now. after walking out with not that good of an explanation freshman year? yeah. i got it built up to the point where i was like, she’s after me with a machete. no, i’m not gonna look at her, because she’ll spit at me, and why was i such a jerk, etc, etc. but i peek, and she’s smiling. damn!
so i’m talking with lizz…about being in band. now, it is still kind of a good thing to be playing music and all, but the band has a high proportion of not so normal. but then i think about it. you play your music, you go home. is that so bad? no.

and then there’s the matter of conciseness. i figure it’s ok to spit out words…whatever you wanted to really say is somewhere in that morass of words. slightly incomprehensible, but it’s all you. that big ball of fluff and crap, it has YOU written all over it. so io write and write, and then i’m like, what the hell have i done? i took a simple thought, or event, or whatever is on my mind, and made it into this gargantuan bigass complaint, whine against the world, why doesn’t somebody shoot…. wait, you can’t shoot the delivery guy. that’s just wrong.

did i tell you i’m into cooking? oh yes. name it, i’ll try and cook it. mostly it works. the other times… well, we won’t talk about that, will we. i can make all kinds of soups now… just have to learn how to prepare the chickens to make natural stock rather than buy all this chicken soup stock that i’ve been buying. thank god for trader joes. i love their one sauce too, the tomato and capers and spices, they all blend in so well and smell so good and… it’s just orgasmic!
yeah, i’m serious.

i wish i got angry more often. i could have some wild times that way. i’d get into all kinds of crazy fights, just like that time at SimSum’s, with that crazy freakiness at the shisha bar, where that stupid ** just wouldn’t shut up, and i ended up just going home rather than push the issue. it didn’t help that i had also smoked a ton of ** before that. i’m sure my aim would have been impaired. well, i came back and said all kinds of crazy ** online to people, and thank god i didn’t call anyone. i swear, i got drunk this one time this summer and almost called my mom (jen’s number was one off my mom’s in my speed dial). well i did, but it rang once and i saw what i was doing and i just said ** no, this ** ain’t right.

so, like, a quarter bottle of rum. brings back some memories.

and poker night at casey’s? casey bought the table… got some puff with assad, then went downstairs to go lose some money with the boys. Cary watched a little while and laughed. goin to sleep. i lost 7 bucks…but considering i was down 10, threw in four, on last call, won a shitload back, was up in the black for a while and then lost some on bad moves until i was down to real Real low, until i found a super super hand and won a bunch back. and then what’s his name next to me bounces a shitty pair that wins the table. great bluff that was. he took home the gold there. casey was up a lot too, and he’s already the lucky one.