last night, i did my federal tax return. this is the first time i ever did it before march. the reason: i wanted to do my fafsa, which i did last night also. it’s nice having an incentive to not be lazy.

i still have to do state tax, but i’m probably going to be lazy since i can’t do it online for free. what’s a $25 refund worth if i have to pay $12.95 just to file it?

i don’t like that they take my money all the time, but i wish they would just take it and not make me file returns that remind me i’m being screwed.

here’s something i found amusing while doing my federal return:

The taxable portion of your 2005 state income tax refund is $0.

if i’m reading that correctly, would that mean a portion of my 2005 state income tax refund would be taxable if it had been larger? so this money i gave the government over and above my required tax, which they held for me for a given period of time, and then returned to me as a refund could be subject to more taxation? of course, because it would be considered income for that year, right?

i think i’m gonna go back to making $8,000/year or less. they will get none of my money and i will be the poorest s.o.b. on the planet.

why can’t i be like that guy?

i went to circuit city to see if there were any wiis, but there weren’t. the worker bees said they get them on fridays but hold them over until sundays when their new ad comes out. they give out vouchers to the people outside standing in line. i don’t want to stand in line at 6 in the morning for a wii. i want it in my hands now.

wouldn’t it make more sense to mass produce these things and have them available when they are popular, then cut off the supply as the interest/demand dwindles? or does the company not want to make as much money?

now, i don’t want to buy one ever, because i don’t think nintendo deserves my money. they clearly don’t want it.

i’m gonna go do my homework.

what i’m about to tell you is not for the faint of heart. nevertheless, i dreamt it and you’re going to read it.

there was mentally handicapped guy. he seemed sort of albino, but not totally. just very pale and pretty old, too. he had green eyes. green like the emerald of emerald city. i wish i could draw a picture, because description doesn’t do this guy justice.

for some reason, don’t ask me why, i was sleeping over at his house. he stilled lived with his parents, even though he was in his 40s. i started to get the feeling that i was his only friend.

it seemed like his sibling(s) were having parties and enjoying their normal lives. they were coming and going, or mostly going. we weren’t really doing much of anything that i could remember.

it came time for bed and this presented a dilemma. there were no extra beds, so i ended up sleeping with this guy. but just sleeping, though. don’t get any funny ideas. this was so not one of those dreams.

i was trying to sleep, possibly dozing a bit, but not fully comfortable enough to let myself descend into the waiting arms of slumber. i have nothing against mentally handicapped people, but anything can happen. anything.

some time passed and i found myself just staring at the ceiling. the guy seemed to be sound asleep, but turning occasionally. every time he turned in my direction, i was showered with about a handful of marble cheddar shredded cheese. this scared me quite a bit.

when i looked around it seemed as though i was laying in the remnants of a bread and cheese feast. there were crumbs and shreddings everywhere. i was pretty disgusted.

i got up and as i did, i noticed the guy wasn’t wearing any pants. so not only was i sleeping in the aftermath of a feeding frenzy, i was also next to a half-naked man. it was beyond my ability to comprehend.

i said, “i gotta go.”

“why? what’s wrong?” he asked.

“oh, nothing. i just have to do some stuff.”

he opened the front door to let me out (magically wearing pants) and i noticed a tear in his eye.

“hey, no, don’t cry.” i said. “we’re still friends. we can hang out. i can’t do stuff with you every day, but, you know, once a week or a couple times a month would be alright.”

his dad or grandpa came randomly walking by and said, “that doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

the guy seemed happier and let me leave.

i hope i never go back there, in dreams or otherwise.

i don’t know anything about adoption. i don’t know how it works or what is involved. i guess that makes me unable to have an opinion about anything adoption-related. except, when it comes to my blog, i can write whatever i want without question. and you have to believe it.

so i was thinking, if i were a foreign baby, would i want to be whisked away from a terrible orphanage only to be rejected for a second time six months later? no, i think that would be lousy. i think i would probably be scarred and hate the world forever. i might even grab a gun and do some damage. thank god i would be in america where guns are readily available.

now, if i were the adopter and certain predicaments presented themselves, i would work through them. i would treat the child as a member of my family, of whom i could never leave, discard, or abandon. but that’s just me. i would never sign adoption papers without convincing myself that there’s no going back.

if you can’t find it in yourself to love an adopted child as your own, then you have no business adopting kids. get a dog.

imagine the most awkward feeling in the most awkward of situations and you are half way to what i felt like tonight. ladyfriend dragged me to a housewarming shindig out in the boonies.

my first clue that it was going to be a disaster of epic proportions was the invitation that said “mass at 5:30.” now, i don’t begrudge anyone their religions, but having mass is not my idea of a party. i’m just crazy like that. ladyfriend was like “oh, they just bless the house. it won’t be much more than that.” it was a full mass with the wafers and everything. since it’s not something i’ve ever witnessed firsthand, i rather liked it.

mostly, the three hours there were spent sitting in a chair trying not to be noticed. luckily, no one tried to talk to me. who would want to talk to the tallest, whitest guy there? not me, and i am me.

after we finally broke free, we made our way to the casino to win big, but instead got jinxed by a former co-worker and lost everything ($40).

i just want to curl up in bed and suck my thumb. can i do that, please?