What a bummer of a day. I found a job today, finally. And I'm glad because I was sick of tirelessly filling out applications. Although I was secretly hoping that my summer job hunt would continue indefinitely, so that I could spend my summer loafing and fishing. The job I got, though, seems pretty good. I'm going to be working for a rental company, which rents out equipment to people for weddings and parties and that sort of stuff. I'm going to be doing a lot of delivery stuff. I actually had gone in and filled out an application at the place and followed up and called them about three times, but they said they didn't need anyone. But two weeks later I got a call from them saying they had a spot open. The guy I'm replacing is out of commission because he got a DWI citation. I don't really know how to feel about that. Also, my plants that I had planted a couple weeks ago were found by one of my neighbors and uprooted (damn the servants of the man). Incidentally, they were found by my neighbor who is a geologist and I am going to go into that field. I was hoping that he could hook me up with a job someday, but that hope is looking ever-grimmer. Whatever, it's just a plant, and I don't agree in the least with its out-dated prohibition. After all, laws don't rule me; morals do. None can justify consciously trying to put a plant, and a very versatile and amazing species, out of existence. We all hate poison ivy, but I don't see any federal agents trying to get rid of that plant. I wasn't really even growing it to smoke it or sell it; I just wanted to let it grow and let it flourish. I recently bogarted a copy of Steal This Book from my roommate, which I feel kind of bad about, but I think he swiped my Hot Tuna cd so it evens out, which is a bummer because it's a really slick disc and I just realized today that I didn't have it. Run on sentence. But about run on sentences, I say we should start destroying the language of our fathers and start manipulating it and using run-on sentences and using words in unorthodox places and ending sentences with prepositions. I'm not talking about a new language per se; I'm talking about psuedo-harlem renaissance here. I'm talking about scaring the old folks by talking in jive. Keepin' 'em on dey toes, dig? I'm also realizing today that I've been disillusioned for much of my life, and perhaps sheer proof of that comes from the fact that I have no idea if the things I think or the way I think about things makes any sense in the "real world". For example, if I'm driving, sometimes I'll be just amazed about how I'm on a winding road that is just cutting through a forest, and there are these trees all around me. I don't know if my amazement and other peoples apparent lack of amazement is simply due to the fact that I missed something growing up about us living amoung trees and that being normal, or that every one else is just blindly living. Clearly, my mind is chaotic. Or is it? I don't really know, because I've never experienced another persons thoughts in their purest form. Most thoughts are inarticuable; and the ones that can be expressed and understood can only be understood when the "hearer" has been through a similar experience. I mean, I've heard of love, read about it, been told about it, but I don't know what it is. That's today's two cents. Hopefully June winds will blow kindly upon us all.