"when masturbation's lost its fun"

please just a little more time. a reprieve. it's all i ask. every morning i do this dance with my alarm clock. it doesn't have a snooze button. it's one of those tiny battery powered travel clocks. to set the alarm, you lift a little button, and to turn it off you push down on that same little button. to set the alarm, you adjust the alarm hand on the clock, which is so so temperamental. i wake up to my alarm, get my lazy ass out of bed, push down the button, and try moving the little hour hand forward just a little - not a lot, i don't want to oversleep. i lift the lever, hoping to go back to bed, but the stupid motherfucking thing starts beepa d beeping. god damn, so i push the button down and try moving it a hair forwards, then lift the button, and more beepa d beeing. fucking shit, i am getting more and more awake -- don't get too concerned about the alarm, you don't want to wake up. me and the alarm haggle over the conditions of my reprieve for a little while more. we come to an agreement and i snuggle back under my covers. mmm, sleep. beepity beep (repeat like 10 million times), and then the dance starts all over again. i get about four reprieves before finally waking up at one.

i eat oatmeal, read the paper for way too long, take a shower, and bolt out the door to head towards the kaiser offices in not so wonderful springfield, va for my 2:15 dermatolagist appointment. she gave my self-esteem a big boost by telling me how much worse the acne on my face has gotten, wrote me a prescription, and then i went and waited in the lobby/pharmacy for them to fill my prescription. reading old entertainment weeklys and watching fox news anchors attempt to discuss some school shooting somewhere that they had no details about yet. but that did not stop them from wildly speculating about the shooting. hey, who said you need facts for news? c'mon.

sort of real disgusted by the celeb worshipping rags surrounding me and the fox news beacon of light in the sky hanging over my head. a circle of tvs overhead surrounding the waiting area so everyone could have a good view. is this circle of tvs my halo or my crown of thorns? either way, it was not good, and i was all too glad when a pharmacist stammered like a teacher on the first day of school reading my name over the loudspeaker. mar ahh maurice ... keer .. queer-ohs your prescription is ready at window one. and so i go to window one and pick up my prescription.

i drove back home so happy because i rolled down my windows since it was in the fifties and sort of nice out. the cool fresh air felt so good, and made me flash a big cheesy grin the whole way home to the beautiful sky. besides rocking out like i was in a convertible in the middle of summer, i was mister karoake belting out tunes at the top of my lungs. india arie's "video" started playing. i cranked the shit up, so excited, and started singing along, dancing, feeling the sky whoosh in and out of my car, over my skin, and in and out of my lungs. dude, what a fucking gorgeous drive. Sometimes I comb my hair and sometimes I won’t / Depend of how the wind blows I might even paint my toes / It really just depends on whatever feels good in my soul / I’m not the average girl from your video / And I ain’t built like a supermodel / But I learned to love myself unconditionally, / Because I am a queen and la di da la di da i wish i knew the rest of the lyrics

then the next song on the station was crap, so i did a little flipping around, and what's this? wait, is it...? yes, fuck yeah, it's old green day. i sang along to "when i come around," and thought about how much i loved the dookie album when i was in eighth grade. i asked bonnie last semester if she thought that blink-182 was the current middle-schoolers version of green day - if it's their generations equivalent - hoping that she would say no, that green day is so much cooler than lame blink. but she didn't - she said that green day was just as bad. but motherfuck that shit, dookie is the motherfucking shit, yo! it so rocks. listening to "when i come around" brought up so many "fond" memories of eighth grade. middle school was the worst fucking two years of my life, so i feel weird about referring to it as "fond," but from the age of 20, a good safe distance away from the horrors of middle school and from being dawn weiner, i can say they are "fond," glossing over all the wedgies, over being called faggot far too many times a day (especially since at this point in time, i was still pretty asexual and thought of myself as straight). forgetting how much i used to dread changing in the locker room; forgetting about all the scary teachers and the even scarier classmates who seemed so much more physically developed and "cool." but the middle school i was recalling in the car was the after 2:40 middle school back at home, by myself, far away from any scary social situations, when i would not feel like shit; when i could daydream about what high school would be like; when i could at least exercise authority over my sister. this is when i still thought rock bands were cool; when i would listen to whole albums like dookie in one sitting again and again upstairs in my room, learning all the lyrics. so for two or three minutes today, i was still attending carl sandburg middle school - still a real quiet, geeky boy who hated middle school and found some outlet in the wannabe punk wails of billie joe armstrong. and, it was heaven. and i yelled and shouted along with billie boy at the top of my lungs into the wind.

post orgasm, the song is fading out, some radio station promo starts playing, and whoo whoo that felt god damn good, i should go home and listen to that album. and then another awesome song starts playing after the promo ends: tracy champan's "give me one reason," and so i did a really aggresive cover of the song still real pumped up from green day. dancing as best as i could while driving. or perhaps more accuartely, driving as best as i could while dancing. i yelled to the boyfriend that i do not have about how he needs to give me just one reason to stay here.

when i got home, i called some apartments, and thought that i should masturbate before my mom came home. and so i did. i then read some of ulysses. and then at ten, it was time for the brand new season of real world. so far, it actually seems like it might be a pretty cool season. the first episode was pretty entertaining. rebecca is looking at classified ads right now for a job in ny, and is very seriously considering going to ny. she is going to tell me tomorrow night. and so i have my fingers big time crossed.

oh and also today, i did a girlboy entry out of boredom and so here's the link.