Thursday, Sept. 19, 2002 at 12:03 p.m..

No, I'm not severely depressed or anything. I just feel stuck in a rut. Rut rut rut. Boredom is driving me insane. Just ask Jeremy. I was in the most bizarre mood last night. I can't even describe it. So anyways, onto the entry.

Flipp won the "Best Hard Rock Group" and "Best Hard Rock Recording" awards at the Minnesota Music Awards last night. That's the 2nd year in a row for those two awards! Yay! They rock the world...

Why is it that I can't go through a single day without getting ink all over my arms. It never ever fails. I always get ink on myself. Can anyone explain this phenomenon to me?

You know what is really strange? Okay. I don't see my maternal grandfather very often. Well, that's an understatement. He lives in California and I can only remember seeing him three times in my whole life. I've seen him a couple more times than that, but I was too young to remember. Anyways, the first time I can remember him was from when I was 5. Back then he was kind of like Joe Cool. I mean, he was my grandpa, but he felt more like a cool uncle or something. He had an airplane and liked fast cars and stuff like that. So, the next time I can remember seeing him was when I was 7 and he came to Minnesota for his step mother's funeral. He was pretty much the same to me then, too. So then the NEXT time I saw him was 2 winters ago, when I was 20. It was so weird. I expected this cool, nice uncle type guy again, but all he had to say was, "Hey Jess, what has it been, 2 weeks?" And that's it. I guess it doesn't bother me. I don't really care cuz he hasn't been in my life. My point is that whenever I think of him, I think of the guy he was when I was 5. Okay that story was really pointless, but isn't it weird how we choose to picture people a certain way even though they change? Or seem to change? Yeah. something like that. You think that's weird, someday I'll tell you about my maternal grandmother. Now that's a fucked up story.

Okay, it's time for lunch so I'm gone...