Joel Barish (Jim Carrey) said in the film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: “Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?” I can relate to that. Except with men, of course.

Do you ever get the urge to yell out a complete stranger’s last name because it’s printed on the back of their sweatshirt? I do. I almost did on a couple of occasions.

Sauerkraut is gross. And an extremely hard word to spell.

I think I could overdose on you and I still wouldn’t get enough.

I can’t be the only one who imagines the little green apple saying the quote at the bottom of the “Apples to Apples” card when I read it. I just can’t be.

I accidentally checked out a guy’s ass the other day. I know how absurd that sounds, but I really didn’t mean to do it! I don’t think. I was looking at his jeans, trying to figure out just what to call his clothing style. Skater? No. Emo? No. Something else? Yes, but I can’t quite put a finger on it. Then I caught myself thinking, “Hey, not bad.” Okay, I’m guilty.

Oh, gosh. I’ve got another: Following a group discussion of journalism ethics, the guy next to me volunteered to report back to the class our Potter Box approach to ethical decision making. I had listed on a sheet of paper the important values, principles, loyalties, etc. the group had brainstormed for our particular ethical situation. He leaned over to use my list as a guide and seamlessly announced to the class our ethical decisions. I don’t know why, but I was thinking, “That’s hot.”

I’ve too often dipped my toes into the pool of self-pity. Pull me away. I never want to feel the urge to do it again.

I love my Mass Media Law class. It’s the strangest thing, but I really do. I’ll sit through two hours of lecture like it’s almost nothing. I think it’s because of Prof. Pember. He’s like Mr. Killingstad, in some ways. (I love Mr. Killingstad!) I’d say he’s somewhere in his 70s. He’s extremely knowledgeable about the subject matter. In fact, he co-authored our textbook. He goes over exemplary court cases in such a way that turns them each into engaging stories. Stories your grandfather would tell you.

Those two anonymous guys? Yeah, it’s just one guy. Two different situations. He’s 25 years old. Don’t get too hasty: I wouldn’t call it a crush just yet. I’m still a little confused about it all. And I’m a little preoccupied with someone else at the moment, anyway.

I’ll be graduating from UW in August 2008. I talked to a journalism adviser recently and found out my credits don’t quite match up. I’ll still walk in the spring ceremony, but my diploma will say August. Next year I’ll take 14 credits each quarter for three quarters. Then, in the summer quarter I’ll do an internship anywhere I like for a remaining six credits. I’ve talked to Mr. Henderson about the internship already. He said he could hook me up with the copy-desk chief of The Seattle Times, and maybe get me a copy editing internship. Think of that! Me, a copy editor intern at the Times. (Sigh.)

I’d never had a muse before. Not ever before you, that is. Something about you inspires me. Something about you makes me want to spill words, words, words out onto a page. Poetry. Ancedotes. Metaphors and similes. Anything and everything.

My jaw has been hurting lately. I wonder what’s wrong.

Apples and sticks | Make me sick | Makes my heart go two-forty-six | Not because I’m dirty | Not because I’m clean | Just because I kissed a boy behind a magazine | Hey, boys! | How ’bout a fight? | Meet you at the corner on a Saturday night | You can wibble | You can wobble | You can even do the splits | But I bet you can’t do anything just like this | Close your eyes and count to ten | Do it again

Ha ha. Ah, childhood memories.