um yeah i'm actually going crazy
Sam Belok wrote a song about me, to be performed with his band when I return home for Thanksgiving. Haha. I certainly look forward to that.
I've been having a bad couple of days... but last night Jonathan Bayard came to visit so that helped. This weekend was alright. I had a lot of fun on Thursday night. Jay invited me and Melissa to go to this Beta pledge event thing... a "classy affair" of sorts. I wore my formal dress from senior year (um... and sophomore year) and Jay was all decked out in a blazer and tie. We drank wine and listened to jazz music and then as people started to get trashed it regressed into a usual frat party. In cocktail dress. It was fun.
The weather sucks. I have no warm clothes. As such I have developed something of a sore throat, but it's gotten better since yesterday when Yanna gave me this crazy Russian antibiotic.
I love Melissa and Anisha. Love. We are trying to think of some awesome halloween costume. As of right now Anisha and I are planning on being pirates; Melissa is our wench. Haha. There was some brainstorming last night on Carman 7 but it amounted to very little. Hmm.
I've quite literally stopped doing my reading for Sociology and Urban Politics. So I guess that's bad. But this school is reinforcing my horrible work ethic. It rewards me for not doing the reading (99 on my psych midterm?!). I'm sure it'll all catch up to me soon, and when I get that first "B" I'll regret not having done any of my work but for now... it just feels goooood. Concord was so much harder. SO MUCH. I guess I can thank Concord Academy for that, then. Columbia is maaad easy after Mike Wirtz (damn you, Mike Wirtz... damn you).
I really want to live in East Campus senior year. Ohhhh. East Campus. Ohhhh.
I still have all these coupons from my NSOP booklet that I haven't used... better get to it. I have something like 3 free coffees from various establishments on Broadway. And 15% off anything at Ivy League Stationers. I wish I had waited to buy my Filofax. I could have saved some. Oh, my Filofax. Love my Filofax.
My mother is making me go to this retarded stress therapist, which is funny, because I'm so clearly not stressed. She said I should just go a few times to check it out. I went once and the conversation went as follows:
Retarded Stress Therapist: So, Adriana, what are you stressed about?
Me: Um... nothing.
RST: Really--there must be something stressing you out!
Me: Uh... it's been raining a lot. I guess that's kind of stressful.
RST: Yes, yes. Let's talk about that.
The funny thing is that the only thing really stressing me out right now is this stupid therapist and the fact that I have nothing to say when I get there. And that I have to take the train down to 79th Street, and it's very likely that I then have to walk six blocks in the pouring rain and well, I don't have an umbrella. Last week I headed down there on Friday for a 1PM appointment, trudged through the rain, literally fell into a puddle, and finally arrived in the waiting room, disgruntled, wet, and depressed. Finally I had something to talk about. Then I pulled out my trusty Filofax to figure out my day. And it says: 1PM, Psych appointment. And then I realized that "Psych appointment" doesn't mean STRESS THERAPIST but rather my mandatory experiment for my intro psych class. It's 12:55, so I think, hmm, maybe, just maybe, if I catch a cab, I can make it back up to Morningside in time. So I hail a cab, thinking it'll be a five dollar ride, or something. Thirty blocks, right?
This is why I never take cabs. It cost thirteen dollars--thirteen dollars--to get to 116th street. By that time it was 1:15 and I thought maybe, maybe if I ran I could still join the experiment. So I got out of the cab and sprinted across Broadway in the rain and then...
...
...
...
My pants fell down.
In the middle of Broadway.
Four taxis came to a screeching halt to avoid hitting me, this crazy pant-less fanatic.
I mean... how does that happen? HOW? These pants really aren't too big for me. I don't think any of my pants have ever fallen down. Why now? WHY NOW?!
So yeah. It's been a bad week. I missed my psych experiment and if I miss one more my grade for the semester goes down by a third of a letter. I still have four more to do. Mother fucker.
Um and then this weekend I needed to go to Jackson Heights for a paper I have to write, so I get on the R, yes? Yes? No. I got on the wrong R. And I was halfway through Brooklyn before I realized I wasn't in Queens. So Anisha and I just went a few stops further and got off at Sunset Park, which was beautiful as always, but not what I needed for my paper. It's a comparative paper about two ethnic neighborhoods. I now have two predominately Puerto Rican/Mexican neighborhoods. Fuck. I wanted Indians. INDIANS. I WANTED TO EAT SAAG PANEER IN JACKSON HEIGHTS. Oh god I haven't had saag in so long... like a week... shit shit shit I'm going to get some TONIGHT.
So obviously I'm a little insane by this point. Wish me luck.
I've been having a bad couple of days... but last night Jonathan Bayard came to visit so that helped. This weekend was alright. I had a lot of fun on Thursday night. Jay invited me and Melissa to go to this Beta pledge event thing... a "classy affair" of sorts. I wore my formal dress from senior year (um... and sophomore year) and Jay was all decked out in a blazer and tie. We drank wine and listened to jazz music and then as people started to get trashed it regressed into a usual frat party. In cocktail dress. It was fun.
The weather sucks. I have no warm clothes. As such I have developed something of a sore throat, but it's gotten better since yesterday when Yanna gave me this crazy Russian antibiotic.
I love Melissa and Anisha. Love. We are trying to think of some awesome halloween costume. As of right now Anisha and I are planning on being pirates; Melissa is our wench. Haha. There was some brainstorming last night on Carman 7 but it amounted to very little. Hmm.
I've quite literally stopped doing my reading for Sociology and Urban Politics. So I guess that's bad. But this school is reinforcing my horrible work ethic. It rewards me for not doing the reading (99 on my psych midterm?!). I'm sure it'll all catch up to me soon, and when I get that first "B" I'll regret not having done any of my work but for now... it just feels goooood. Concord was so much harder. SO MUCH. I guess I can thank Concord Academy for that, then. Columbia is maaad easy after Mike Wirtz (damn you, Mike Wirtz... damn you).
I really want to live in East Campus senior year. Ohhhh. East Campus. Ohhhh.
I still have all these coupons from my NSOP booklet that I haven't used... better get to it. I have something like 3 free coffees from various establishments on Broadway. And 15% off anything at Ivy League Stationers. I wish I had waited to buy my Filofax. I could have saved some. Oh, my Filofax. Love my Filofax.
My mother is making me go to this retarded stress therapist, which is funny, because I'm so clearly not stressed. She said I should just go a few times to check it out. I went once and the conversation went as follows:
Retarded Stress Therapist: So, Adriana, what are you stressed about?
Me: Um... nothing.
RST: Really--there must be something stressing you out!
Me: Uh... it's been raining a lot. I guess that's kind of stressful.
RST: Yes, yes. Let's talk about that.
The funny thing is that the only thing really stressing me out right now is this stupid therapist and the fact that I have nothing to say when I get there. And that I have to take the train down to 79th Street, and it's very likely that I then have to walk six blocks in the pouring rain and well, I don't have an umbrella. Last week I headed down there on Friday for a 1PM appointment, trudged through the rain, literally fell into a puddle, and finally arrived in the waiting room, disgruntled, wet, and depressed. Finally I had something to talk about. Then I pulled out my trusty Filofax to figure out my day. And it says: 1PM, Psych appointment. And then I realized that "Psych appointment" doesn't mean STRESS THERAPIST but rather my mandatory experiment for my intro psych class. It's 12:55, so I think, hmm, maybe, just maybe, if I catch a cab, I can make it back up to Morningside in time. So I hail a cab, thinking it'll be a five dollar ride, or something. Thirty blocks, right?
This is why I never take cabs. It cost thirteen dollars--thirteen dollars--to get to 116th street. By that time it was 1:15 and I thought maybe, maybe if I ran I could still join the experiment. So I got out of the cab and sprinted across Broadway in the rain and then...
...
...
...
My pants fell down.
In the middle of Broadway.
Four taxis came to a screeching halt to avoid hitting me, this crazy pant-less fanatic.
I mean... how does that happen? HOW? These pants really aren't too big for me. I don't think any of my pants have ever fallen down. Why now? WHY NOW?!
So yeah. It's been a bad week. I missed my psych experiment and if I miss one more my grade for the semester goes down by a third of a letter. I still have four more to do. Mother fucker.
Um and then this weekend I needed to go to Jackson Heights for a paper I have to write, so I get on the R, yes? Yes? No. I got on the wrong R. And I was halfway through Brooklyn before I realized I wasn't in Queens. So Anisha and I just went a few stops further and got off at Sunset Park, which was beautiful as always, but not what I needed for my paper. It's a comparative paper about two ethnic neighborhoods. I now have two predominately Puerto Rican/Mexican neighborhoods. Fuck. I wanted Indians. INDIANS. I WANTED TO EAT SAAG PANEER IN JACKSON HEIGHTS. Oh god I haven't had saag in so long... like a week... shit shit shit I'm going to get some TONIGHT.
So obviously I'm a little insane by this point. Wish me luck.