I've been thinking about it more and more lately, and I've decided I'm in love with a dolphin. The man at the dolphin shop told me I'd have better luck with a harlot, despite the fact that I'm dirt broke. He didn't know that, however.

This year's Thanksgiving was wonderful. We drove to the city in the morning for brunch. During the ride there, my parents and I had a conversation about former comedians on "Saturday Night Live". I was surprised they knew so much about the darn show, and we all agreed that it is simply horrible now. My parents and I honestly have a very similar sense of humor when it comes to things like that. I was glad that for the first time in a while, we were laughing as a family, instead of the "big quiet" that fogs our windows on long autumn drives. I won't bore you with the details of the rest of the day, except that coffee and pumpkin pie is exquisite for dessert. And I'm not a big coffee drinker.

Last night was plagued with disheartening presences. I've grown rather sick of the wealthy highbrows that come in to eat on weekends - after seven on Fridays and Saturdays and before six on Sundays. Just listening to conversations going around me made me want to hurl. Take this corpulent family for example. They were talking about sourdough bread for chrissakes. Who comes up with all these lousy conversation topics? I blame Grover Cleveland - the lousiest president of these United States. Or hell, I'd blame any prime minister of Canada. They're all quite lousy. And no, I'm not being jocular one bit. I mean all of this mindless dribble.

And then there's the random loner who comes in that recognizes me from school. This time it was the pale skinned girl who reads and plays video games in the hall during lunch. She gave me this look that was honestly quite scary, as if she wanted to bite me in the arm or something. If I were a musical composer, I would've written a song about it that very moment. It was that inspiring. By the way, I've decided I'm going to be a singer for a popular rock group. The name of the group still stands undecided. Maybe I'll call it, "the Grover Clevelands".

The one woman who irritated me the most was this woman who came in forty five minutes late. She told us that she was going to be there at 6:45 sharp with her party. The "sharp" supposedly seals the deal in affairs like these, but obviously not in this case. She just kept laughing and saying that it was okay when we didn't have a table for her. I wasn't really listening. All I could do was stare at the bags under her eyes, then staring at the bags under her mother's eyes and the bags under her daughter's eyes. It reminded me of when my father had colon cancer, and my entire family was telling me that I was going to get it when I'm older. Wonderful. I might as well wear a sweater wherever I go, so the SARS won't leak from my bloodstream.

I have been having unpleasant dreams that I have to piece together in the morning, because I'll forget them if I don't. They usually consist of a girl from school that I've thought about once or twice that day forming an intimate relationship with me, and making me become very depressed in the morning about it. I've been having these dreams more often than not. But I guess they're better than the dreams where I choke from all the smoking I've been doing, and having all my hair fall out. I don't know what I'm going to do when I start losing hair in my mid twenties.

I've grown quite fond of my hair actually. I don't know what I'd do without it. It's grown a little past my ear lobes. I'm loving it.

cya.

-george