Remember the time that Chanukah, like, totally sucked ass?
So my trip to "Pet Memorial Park" was absolutely god-awful. First, even though I woke up at 8, I still ended up having to run down the hill to Kennedy Plaza to catch the bus to Boston Foxboro. Then I got there and ended up taking an uber-sketchy taxi to the cemetery. So I poked around for a bit. SO anti-climactic. It was basically a field with the occasional marker here and there, like someone had purposely designed it to mock the people who came all the way from Providence. "What did you expect, ass? We're dead." Right. The owner was not very helpful; when I asked her questions she glared at me and stroked her cat. Seriously, she was nibbling on that thing's ear. No wonder why she had four cars buried in front of the office. They probably died of bitter ear infections.
I realized that I didn't have enough money for the return taxi fare (it was seriously over-priced). No problem, I thought, I'm young, I'm strong (well, not really, but give me some liberties here), I can walk a few miles. Seriously, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
And then I found myself walking in the rain along the side of a small highway in Massachusetts at 11:15 AM. What, pray tell, was I doing? Why was I soaking wet, clutching the wet, crumpled remains of what had once been a folding map of Foxboro, and why was my wallet once again empty? Where was my other glove, why was I bending over to pick up batteries, and where did all of these condoms on the side of the road come from (do people really have that much sex on the side of Route 106? There were several in many different placeas along the road... ugh, and then water from the street was soaking through my pants and shoes so I probably have STDs on my feet now)... the 33ºF temperature and bitter wind certainly didn't help matters either. Oh and what I thought was at most two or three miles turned out to be five.
So eventually I got back to the bus terminal. Miraculously, I still had half an hour before the bus (there are few buses that leave from Foxboro; I also spent less time than expected at the pet cemetary, even with my hour walk back), so I decided to celebrate by treating myself to some Chinese food. It was surprisingly good (far better than anything Providence has) and cheap enough that I could afford it. Now I am officially a broke college student (I didn't start out with much, and retarded trips like these have depleted my bank account). That's alright. As long as my parents either pick me up or pay for my way home.
Anyway. So I have to miss Noam Chomsky because I have only three pages of slop written. (And it's in dire need of editing and adding and... yeah. I will make ten pages of work my goal for today and then add the remaining five tomorrow, and work on my German essasy tomorrow and the day after... sigh...) And no one's celebrating Chanukah, as far as I know. All I've received so far (not that I have to receive anything, but this an anti-present) has been a phone call from my grandmother (not Her Majesty, whom I like to talk to, my father's mother). She told me all about how much she hates her new apartment in Florida and how she's looking for another one. Um, she's moved five times in the past three years. Then she prattled on about some things she bought that were "good values" and expressed an interest in coming to see me at school, because she hears there's a nice mall in Providence... Oh god no. Luckily the airfare is on my side; she won't come unless my dad buys her a ticket. And he certainly won't submit us to the inanity.
Sometime, perhaps this weekend, we are going to party it up like it's the motherfuckin' 25th (or 26th, or 27th or...) of Kislev, biznatch. Hott dreydl spinning action and everything. You know it.
I realized that I didn't have enough money for the return taxi fare (it was seriously over-priced). No problem, I thought, I'm young, I'm strong (well, not really, but give me some liberties here), I can walk a few miles. Seriously, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
And then I found myself walking in the rain along the side of a small highway in Massachusetts at 11:15 AM. What, pray tell, was I doing? Why was I soaking wet, clutching the wet, crumpled remains of what had once been a folding map of Foxboro, and why was my wallet once again empty? Where was my other glove, why was I bending over to pick up batteries, and where did all of these condoms on the side of the road come from (do people really have that much sex on the side of Route 106? There were several in many different placeas along the road... ugh, and then water from the street was soaking through my pants and shoes so I probably have STDs on my feet now)... the 33ºF temperature and bitter wind certainly didn't help matters either. Oh and what I thought was at most two or three miles turned out to be five.
So eventually I got back to the bus terminal. Miraculously, I still had half an hour before the bus (there are few buses that leave from Foxboro; I also spent less time than expected at the pet cemetary, even with my hour walk back), so I decided to celebrate by treating myself to some Chinese food. It was surprisingly good (far better than anything Providence has) and cheap enough that I could afford it. Now I am officially a broke college student (I didn't start out with much, and retarded trips like these have depleted my bank account). That's alright. As long as my parents either pick me up or pay for my way home.
Anyway. So I have to miss Noam Chomsky because I have only three pages of slop written. (And it's in dire need of editing and adding and... yeah. I will make ten pages of work my goal for today and then add the remaining five tomorrow, and work on my German essasy tomorrow and the day after... sigh...) And no one's celebrating Chanukah, as far as I know. All I've received so far (not that I have to receive anything, but this an anti-present) has been a phone call from my grandmother (not Her Majesty, whom I like to talk to, my father's mother). She told me all about how much she hates her new apartment in Florida and how she's looking for another one. Um, she's moved five times in the past three years. Then she prattled on about some things she bought that were "good values" and expressed an interest in coming to see me at school, because she hears there's a nice mall in Providence... Oh god no. Luckily the airfare is on my side; she won't come unless my dad buys her a ticket. And he certainly won't submit us to the inanity.
Sometime, perhaps this weekend, we are going to party it up like it's the motherfuckin' 25th (or 26th, or 27th or...) of Kislev, biznatch. Hott dreydl spinning action and everything. You know it.