Brian stole and then devoured my delicious lunch I had been looking forward to eating all day. Without so much as even asking, or, say, MENTIONING to me.

What kind of person would just STEAL the lunch of one’s roommate? A bad person, that’s what. I’m hungry and I have nothing to eat, because my chicken has been stolen. And if you know anything about me, you’ll know one thing — I like chicken. Especially eating it, but also looking at it, too.

So far, I’m resisting a front from Allison to make me listen to — dear lord — country music. There are just far too many… syllables.

I cleaned my desk. It took 8 paper towels, all of which are now black from the disgusting dirt of said desk. It isn’t even extremely clean — it could stand another wipe down, but I ran out of paper towels.

I find it very, very frightening how well I have acclimated to waking up at 8:30 AM every day. This is completely and totally not in my character, and I should not be able to do it.

I realized it’s for two reasons: it’s not obscenely early, like 6:00 or whenever the heck I woke up for my internship, and it’s EVERY weekday.

Last semester I had to get up for a 9:00 class MWF and at, like, 2 or something for T and Th. It didn’t work. I never went to the 9 AM class. Well, to be completely honest I never went to the 2 PM class either, but that wasn’t because I was tired, I just didn’t want to go.

Yet almost three weeks into the semester, I haven’t missed a single class — not even the 9 AM classes, and those don’t count if you skip. I even convinced a particularly sleepy Jim this morning to get up and go to class.

School is already a lot of work, which has me worried because it’s only going to get worse. Fortunately one of my 6 classes is a writing class that is quite evidently a blowoff class. Attendance counts, so I have to go, but I doubt it will be a huge amount of work for a superstar like myself.

Completely unrelated except to an instant messenger conversation I’m having while typing this, I like using invalid arguments to see if I’ll get called on them. For example: “Well, you have to decide what we’ll do because I’m coming over to your neighborhood.” Not really a valid argument for someone that lives 9 blocks away, but it got me out of making a decision.

Finally and again unrelatedly, my brother Billy invited me to join orkurt, which is like Friendster but elite and Google-sponsored. I was giddy, I had been hoping to get invited, yay for me. I sent out invitations to everyone I talk to, if you didn’t get one I have a wrong email address for you, but sign up! Sign up and be my friend! I only have a circle of 27,265 people and need more!

Orkut makes me think of orcs.

While watching “Pirates of the Carribean” I noticed that in every pirate movie it ends up a sword master fighting what they assume is one who knows nothing about swordplay. They fight, the sword master narrating, and the guy who knows nothing ends up winning.

Yar, matey.

Anyway, back at school, weather is what you could describe as freezing. You would, unfortunately, be off by a factor of almost 40 degrees. -10 is not ideal walking conditions, and unfortunately I have a far-away class every day… nice.

Moving on, but still on the topic of classes, I start class bright and early at 9 AM every day. On Monday/Wednesday/Thursday I get done at noon. Around two I’ll be at home, looking around, thinking it’s far too early to have gone to class and also been home for two hours. I’m not sure if I like this or not, but it certainly is disconcerning.

And now a picture of a monkey, proudly stolen off our neighbor’s door.

(PS – It costs like a buck an ear)

Christmas delight started early this year; the plans have always been to spend Christmas in North Carolina with my sister, because she can’t fly due to pregnancy. So it wasn’t Christmasy at the house… but my mother managed to get into the spirt of things anyway.

She saw an infomercial on the following product:

Bible Songs 4 Kids. She decided she wanted it — for herself, if that isn’t obvious. So she calls the 800 number on the television and upon being connected is, apparently, asked what product she wants.

“The one on the TV right now.”

“What do you mean? I want the product on the TV right now, you should know what it is.”

My mother’s attitude raising, I tried to help out by saying “Bible Songs 4 Kids.” OK — that solved one problem. Although at this point I believe my mother pointed out to me the lady on the phone was stupid if she doesn’t even know what they’re selling.

So at some point — I’m not entirely sure why — my mother gets a guilty look on her face then, slowly, blurts out to the lady she wants the product as a gift (a lie). Not sure how that comes up, but then my mom starts asking the lady where she’s from (India, no surprise).

The deal is almost set, but on a whim my mother asks when her credit card will be charged.

Apparently this is information that the representative is not allowed to give out; she’d have to call up customer service for that top-secret information.

This — almost — destroies the deal. It was just about to fall apart when the saleslady just lies to my mom and says she’s billed right away. OK, good, the order is placed. Christmas cheer spreads here and in India thanks to both my mom and the saleslady’s wonderful, super moods.