My Watch.

Status Report

Wearing: “I’m not wearing any underwear.” shirt. I wonder whether that or my Fedora got people’s attention in the mall.

WinAmp is playing: Bück Dich – RAMMS+EIN

Last ate: Two white weiners last night. Thanks for the idea, Lori.

Last round of masturbation: Thursday night, I believe.

Entry Start Time: 6:12 PM

Based on Esther’s “Senses”.

Ever realize how dependent we are on the concept of time? Without time, we don’t really know “when” things happened, or will happen. Television would be chaos without someone keeping time. Or something. Though, now that I think about it, it would be funny if we had no idea what stations where going to air next. The Princess is in Australia right now.

Princess (5:59:35 PM): HI!
Princess (5:59:39 PM): i have class at 9am
Princess (5:59:42 PM): (in one hour)
Timmy (5:59:46 PM): *laughs*
Timmy (5:59:52 PM): It’s 6 PM here.
Timmy (5:59:58 PM): You’re.. in the future!
Princess (6:00:00 PM): heh
Princess (6:00:02 PM): yeah!
Princess (6:00:05 PM): i’m in tomorrow!
Timmy (6:00:07 PM): *smiles*
Timmy (6:00:11 PM): Or, I’m in yesterday. Relative to you.

So the last time I was in the mall, I went to Fredrick’s of Hollywood. (As everybody knows.) What I failed to mention was that my original purpose was to get a new battery and wristband for my watch. I’ve had this watch for the past five years, I believe. Without checking my journals, I believe it was May 1999. (Or was it 98. I know it was a May.) This watch one of the first Turn and Pull alarm watches. I guessed it would last me until my second year of college. And that’s right when the battery went. Fall semester of this past year, the watch would stop every now and then. I’d turn it off and let it sit the night, then push it back in and reset the time. And one day… It just stopped completely. I thought I’d get a new battery over winter break, but I never got around to it.

I discovered just how dependent I was on my watch. I remember my first year of college, I would check my watch SO MUCH. I’d time everything. When to leave the dining hall. When class would end. When to leave the library. When to get to the bus stop. What time it was when I first woke up. And without a watch, I lost a convenient way to … tell time. I learned to accept being a minute or five late to class. It really doesn’t matter. There are clocks everywhere. I learned where they were in the dining hall and sat in view of one. In the library, I’d get up and check what time it was every now and then. (But otherwise forgetting about the time and concentrating on actually learning.)

Anyway, regardless of how many times you check your watch, if you leave somewhere at time x, you’re going to get at your destination at time z.

This watch has been through a lot. 7:26 PM. That was the time on my watch when I asked Angel out. One month, three days, fifteen hours, ten minutes. That’s the time to beat. Well, give or take three minutes. Whenever I banged my watch against those painted white brick walls in the High School, I’d be paranoid about scratches. Oh, my watch is scratched. But, with the help of a little Glass Plus, I can still clearly tell what time it is.

(I’m eating some honey mustard chicken right now. Damn good.)

My watch was with me two summers ago when I met Miami. Or rather, ventured to meet her. Before our actual meeting in a McDonalds, I traveled to Minneapolis on the busses to meet her somewhere. Uh. She left like ten minutes before I got there? *smirks* But, thanks to my watch, I was fully conscious of… what time it was. (I don’t have a superwatch that can launch nuclear missiles.)

For the money I paid for the metal wristband and battery, I could have gotten a new watch. A shitty new watch, but a new watch. And for precisely that reason, I decided to keep my old watch. I’m sentimental. This is only it’s second battery, I know it’s going to last me a long time. It’s been through two wristbands before this. The original was.. some sort of leather/fabric hybrid. Don’t know what else to call it. I remember it. Fell apart. My second one was a sexy all-leather one. That disintegrated. Thus my motivation to get METAL. So glad I don’t have a hairy body. I have it at the tightest setting, and there’s still a tiny bit of slack. But, that’s okay, I wouldn’t want it tight tight anyway.

My dad doesn’t like metal, apparently. I remember him telling me to GOTO WalMart to get a new strap and battery. When will he learn that I’m anti-WalMart? I’m sure that the place I went to in the mall wasn’t dying of cash, but I would much rather support a small (physically, not the number of locations) store than a giant like WalMart. That is, I’d rather have a lot of specialty stores than one big giant store that sells everything. He also doesn’t seem to understand my affection for my Fedora. He rides me about my hair, telling me to get a more “manageable” haircut. Manage my ass. You want manageable? Let’s all run around naked with shaved heads. Well, maybe we’ll tie down some loose bit of flesh, but other than that…

Kids usually rebel against their parents. It would be so fitting if I had a son that wanted to get himself circumcised. Of course, I would fully give him that right once he was of age and understood just what he was doing. Only in America is male infantile genital mutilation routine and accepted. I was reading something online that pointed out that circumcision should already be illegal, since FGM is already illegal. I’m not saying circumcision is nearly as bad as FGM, but hear me out. Under the 14th amendment (I think it is), laws have to be equal for both sexes. I don’t know what the law-stated definition of FGM is, but if FGM is illegal, then some form of MGM should be illegal, whatever MGM may be. (I believe the female equivalent of circumcision would be cutting off the clitoral hood.) I don’t think it’s necessary to completely criminalize circumcision. I believe people have the right to fuck up their own bodies, whether it be by putting a few holes in their flesh, some ink, cutting off a digit, or even slicing off part of their genitalia. (Float around the Eunuch Archives, believe me, people want to do some strange things.) My only assertion is that infantile circumcision is wrong.

Wow, I started talking about my watch and ended up in a anti-circ rant. I thought I was going to save that little bit for when I announced my intention to restore.