hhhhgod.
re: clubbing -- i think im getting too old for this shit. and i think skeezy guys grind up behind you even when you're spacing out stock-still bc they think you're high and hope to leverage that.
re: first exam for 'seminar in clinical psychology' -- fucking monstrous! apparently the teacher designs his tests with a 15% curve (1.5 letter grades) in mind bc otherwise his grade average would be way too low. that felt awful, i'm so glad it's over.
re: 'architecture of the imagination' english lit class -- there is this beautiful blond boy who ignores me completely. i think i am in love.
re: spring break -- my mom's set my calendar so i see my grandparents after summer vacation instead, so i have nowhere to go and only 2 weeks to plan. my housemate has invited me to argentina. all i remember from argentina is from the books about horses from my childhood. cowboys who had bowie knives as their only dining equipment. dust. whole lot of sky. cigarettes. not exactly my scene, but that wasn't buenos aires (sp?) so i'm considering...
when i blank out i like to think about all the answers i've gotten, in the past, to that one question: what's it like to be in love? sometimes, it feels like everyone in my social circle has an answer that smacks of certainty except for me.
1280 x 800
my favorite bad retort in months: 'fuck you and the high horse you rode in on.'
&another i like:
undistort/resize here
re: first exam for 'seminar in clinical psychology' -- fucking monstrous! apparently the teacher designs his tests with a 15% curve (1.5 letter grades) in mind bc otherwise his grade average would be way too low. that felt awful, i'm so glad it's over.
re: 'architecture of the imagination' english lit class -- there is this beautiful blond boy who ignores me completely. i think i am in love.
re: spring break -- my mom's set my calendar so i see my grandparents after summer vacation instead, so i have nowhere to go and only 2 weeks to plan. my housemate has invited me to argentina. all i remember from argentina is from the books about horses from my childhood. cowboys who had bowie knives as their only dining equipment. dust. whole lot of sky. cigarettes. not exactly my scene, but that wasn't buenos aires (sp?) so i'm considering...
when i blank out i like to think about all the answers i've gotten, in the past, to that one question: what's it like to be in love? sometimes, it feels like everyone in my social circle has an answer that smacks of certainty except for me.
1280 x 800
my favorite bad retort in months: 'fuck you and the high horse you rode in on.'
&another i like:
undistort/resize here