unggggh. Tiredness.

I am just so darn excited about learning Chinese next year. I can't stop thinking about it. I went to UBC yesterday and waited in line for my ten-second interview in order to determine how much Chinese I know so they could place me in a class. I was in line for like an hour and a half. I was tired and in a headachey, boxlike, dreamy state. I stared at all the people surrounding me in the lineup. I was the only white person there. There were tons of well-dressed cute Asian girls. (Little voice in the back of my head says "i want one.") I'm so excited. I'm peeking in on an entirely different culture. A new alphabet and way of speaking. I want to know it all now.

Ask Nick's keyboard player quit because "Guys, I don't think this is what God wants me to be doing right now."

I've been reading a lot of National Geographic lately. I was reading an article today about the evolution of blues from the slaves in the South. They interviewed this one guy whose name was Judge Davis Irving, because "When white people addressed you by your first name no matter what you age, having 'Judge' as a first name was one way to protest the insult." Crazy. And this guy's still alive. It made me think of my parents and how it was for black people when they were kids. I realized I don't know any black people. Stupid acultural suburbia.

Larissa and I looked at The Art Book today. It's just this book with all the famous painters in alphabetical order, one on each page and piece of their art with an analysis and a very brief biography. I feel so unexposed. I wanted to sit there and read every single one.

I want to know things, to understand, to have omnipotent knowledge. I want to be in on every inside joke, every secret handshake. I think there's a Jane's Addiction song about it.. hang on.

"Wish I knew everyone's nickname, all their slang and all their sayings. Every way to show affection, how to dress to fit the occasion. And I wish we all waved."

It's partly that. I loved training at Dairy Queen, was so excited because I learned how to do the trademark Dairy Queen curl. I realized I could talk to someone somewhere else far away but we'd have this common bond. But it's also just knowing something for its own sake. Finding out how it works. Not necessarily for any applicable reason.

Larissa and I went to the park, fell upon your typical Park Party: hippies and drums, fire, drunk/stoned homies, weird poseur alternakids, and lots of peering through the darkness, trying to distinguish recognizable faces. I was expecting something else because my brother headed there tonight with his friends to get drunk and I wanted to check out that scene. But this was nice. It smelled like poo somewhere, and I got the poo smell on my skirt, but other than that, enjoyment. We only stayed for about half a hour. I wanted Nick Manson to be there, but, alas. He was not. Afterwards we went to Spani and sat, and a guy my dad's age came with his police flashlight, looking for his 19-year-old son Brandon. It was weird. "I don't care if he's swimming or whatever. I just want to talk to him." We kept hearing him call for him.

I am so hungry and some guy on Random Chat is talking to me about food. I need to go eat.

ta ta.