Random Rememberance.
Today's class was amusing, simply because I ended up directing us into a discussion about love hotels in my Japanese literature class, where someone asked about pricing and my professor jokingly questioning whether or not this was an inquiry about, "Whether or not I have experience in these matters?" It was funny as hell and I'm not doing it justice, but basically, I keep randomly grinning over the matter, which is a bit idiotic, but such as it is. The class was terribly funny in that sense.
I've been in a really good mood today, maybe Lily's contagious. It's even more impressive given the fact that I got sent to deliver a package, something that should have taken five minutes, but ended up taking 45 because I was told to go "Around the corner to the two metal doors," only to discover that there were about seven sets of double metal doors on that one street alone and I had to have someone, bless his soul, key me into the building in order to drop off the fucking package. But I got free Starbucks out of it and a relatively painless experience at work. Although my boss was a bit odd today, continually telling me how cute I looked today, and making countless references to the fact that I find older men, particularly professors, to be of interest. He kept saying shit about how, well this guy came into the office today, and I later commented that he had nice eyes. I was informed that I wasn't allowed to hit on his friends, "But that shouldn't be an issue with you since I'm not friends with any professors," type lines. It was all very odd. Plus he told me I seemed different, as if "Spring had sprung," something which was a reference to me and sexing the men. Defending your hormones to your boss is an odd thing, I've discovered.
My ankle, not happy with my wanderings, is really fucked up now. I wish I knew what the hell I did to piss it off. I broke one of the clips on my ace bandage while I was asleep, so I'll just have to suck it up until I get back to Jersey because I'm too cheap to buy another one of these damn things at seven bucks just for one clip. Bah. But hey, at least I get to have lunch with my dad tomorrow. Even though I'm going home this weekend and will be there for the next week and extra days, I'm still kind of excited about it. It's kind of cool, really.
And I've just done a shitload of reading; I did all of my film readings for tomorrow (which was an absurd amount, let me tell you) and my stuff for Thursday which was also a lot. Needless to say, my neck hurts and I'm beat. I have to get up early tomorrow, too, which sucks all the more. I'd cut the class, but he might say something about the essay and I don't want to miss the last day before spring break. I realised Monday that I actually missed the class while he was gone for a week. It also occured to me during my reading that my relationship with film goes back further than I originally imagined. I mean, yeah, I've always liked movies, but I started thinking about it, once the thought flashed to me, about how it was my dad who would take me to the movie. We always went as a family, but my dad would always take off one day during summer and we would go to the movies usually. He took me to my first R-rated movie which made my mother shit a brick. But it's not so much that association as what my father always did afterwards. We would always talk about them when we got in the car, and it always went beyond the, "Did you like it, sweetie?" questions. He always tried to get me to analyze beyond the surface level and I looked forward to that almost more than the movie itself, because even if the movie sucked, I knew that the discussion would be fun. I just remember sitting in the backseat, we had just gone to a late night showing of A Time to Kill (because that's a movie appropriate for eleven year old girls, let me tell you) at the Last Chance Theatre where they would show movies after they were no longer in regular movie theatres, but still not released on video yet, and I can't recall what was said now, but I remember it being a particularly engaging converstaion, so much so that I didn't pick up a book to read on the trip home, something that was impressive all the more because it was a "long" trip back home. I think I made a point that was genuinely appreciated and it made me feel really satisfied. Such a random little flash that popped up while I was reading about Hong Kong cinema, but there you go. I just wonder if my father ever realised that.
But I have got to get some sleep because anything else I would have mentioned here, I'm too tired to remember or give a damn about, so off to bed with me.
I've been in a really good mood today, maybe Lily's contagious. It's even more impressive given the fact that I got sent to deliver a package, something that should have taken five minutes, but ended up taking 45 because I was told to go "Around the corner to the two metal doors," only to discover that there were about seven sets of double metal doors on that one street alone and I had to have someone, bless his soul, key me into the building in order to drop off the fucking package. But I got free Starbucks out of it and a relatively painless experience at work. Although my boss was a bit odd today, continually telling me how cute I looked today, and making countless references to the fact that I find older men, particularly professors, to be of interest. He kept saying shit about how, well this guy came into the office today, and I later commented that he had nice eyes. I was informed that I wasn't allowed to hit on his friends, "But that shouldn't be an issue with you since I'm not friends with any professors," type lines. It was all very odd. Plus he told me I seemed different, as if "Spring had sprung," something which was a reference to me and sexing the men. Defending your hormones to your boss is an odd thing, I've discovered.
My ankle, not happy with my wanderings, is really fucked up now. I wish I knew what the hell I did to piss it off. I broke one of the clips on my ace bandage while I was asleep, so I'll just have to suck it up until I get back to Jersey because I'm too cheap to buy another one of these damn things at seven bucks just for one clip. Bah. But hey, at least I get to have lunch with my dad tomorrow. Even though I'm going home this weekend and will be there for the next week and extra days, I'm still kind of excited about it. It's kind of cool, really.
And I've just done a shitload of reading; I did all of my film readings for tomorrow (which was an absurd amount, let me tell you) and my stuff for Thursday which was also a lot. Needless to say, my neck hurts and I'm beat. I have to get up early tomorrow, too, which sucks all the more. I'd cut the class, but he might say something about the essay and I don't want to miss the last day before spring break. I realised Monday that I actually missed the class while he was gone for a week. It also occured to me during my reading that my relationship with film goes back further than I originally imagined. I mean, yeah, I've always liked movies, but I started thinking about it, once the thought flashed to me, about how it was my dad who would take me to the movie. We always went as a family, but my dad would always take off one day during summer and we would go to the movies usually. He took me to my first R-rated movie which made my mother shit a brick. But it's not so much that association as what my father always did afterwards. We would always talk about them when we got in the car, and it always went beyond the, "Did you like it, sweetie?" questions. He always tried to get me to analyze beyond the surface level and I looked forward to that almost more than the movie itself, because even if the movie sucked, I knew that the discussion would be fun. I just remember sitting in the backseat, we had just gone to a late night showing of A Time to Kill (because that's a movie appropriate for eleven year old girls, let me tell you) at the Last Chance Theatre where they would show movies after they were no longer in regular movie theatres, but still not released on video yet, and I can't recall what was said now, but I remember it being a particularly engaging converstaion, so much so that I didn't pick up a book to read on the trip home, something that was impressive all the more because it was a "long" trip back home. I think I made a point that was genuinely appreciated and it made me feel really satisfied. Such a random little flash that popped up while I was reading about Hong Kong cinema, but there you go. I just wonder if my father ever realised that.
But I have got to get some sleep because anything else I would have mentioned here, I'm too tired to remember or give a damn about, so off to bed with me.