Bad Diaries

The Perils of Finding Love and Chinese Funerals

Hi, how are you.

I haven't written in a few days, I'm sure you've noticed my absence.

I've been a little bit busy working, but my life hasn't changed drastically in the past few days.

I deposited money into the bank today because there is no reason to have 35 twenty-dollar bills in your wallet.

Freshman year was weird, sophomore year was very fulfilling, junior year was a lot of fun, senior year was beautiful until it wasn't beautiful anymore.

I have a party tomorrow for Mindy's belated birthday. She's 31.

I don't think I want a girlfriend at the moment. Unless she's sixty years old and smokes American spirits. She has to hate menthol, because it reminds her of being incarcerated.

I think I'm too disagreeable to date someone my own age, or close to it. Things about her will irk me, things about me will undoubtedly irk her.

The espresso machine at work has become my best friend, and it helps me stay awake to socialize at the bar after 9 to 10 hours of the restaurant.

I asked Jim if he had ever been to a Chinese person's funeral. He thought about it intently, and said, "No. I actually haven't."

"Yeah, I haven't either. I think they eat each other."

Jim began to laugh, "Y'know, I think you're on to something. That reminds me of something..."

Jim began to elaborate, but he was already drunk and I don't know what the fuck he was saying.