February 24, 2003, afternoon

    I cannot find my purple doc laces.  My poor docs have been making do with the burlap-colored laces for months now, but it's time for them to go.  I need to find those laces.  I bought new jeans today and they actually approach being fitted, rather than the baggy-ass skate-punk things I've been wearing since November.  Yes, you read that right, I've had only one functional pair of jeans for the last three months.  That's sad, even for me. 

    So anyway, I have these new jeans, and they scream, cry, and beg to be worn with boots and not the converse. 

    "But the converse make my feet so happy!"  I tell the jeans. 

    They say "We don't care what the *%@# makes the feet happy, we only want to be seen with boots!  And not boots with those $%#$@#% lumberjack laces.  Those belong on work boots.  Give those laces back to your husband and get those boots some pretty laces.  They're doc's, for christsake!  They deserve better!"

    "But they're boy doc's!"  I insist.  "They like the burly man-laces!"

    "They're British.  They wouldn't tell you how they really feel if you were torturing them.  Change the $#%$@# laces!"

    Honestly!  I don't know where these jeans got this attitude.  I only paid 99¢ for them.

    But that should give you a little idea how my life is right now.

    I also can't find my Curious George Light switch plate.  Don't even get me started about that one!