rants and rejoicing
So, the weekend.
Saturday. Latin class in the morning. The crazy guy who sits in the back corner has now attained to that level of annoying that only four people before in my life have reached. The level where I cannot, simply cannot look at them. With two of those people I have actually screamed upon seeing them and then walked away very, very quickly. I have not done that with David yet, and really in a classroom setting it would be even less appropriate than in a cafeteria or on the street, so I will hope I don't lose it. I'm probably already rolling my eyes enough whenever he speaks that I look half as nuts as he. But the other students have been giving me sympathetic looks rather than the wary ones they give him, so I have a grace period in which I can try to calm down and not be alienating.
But, seriously, this guy. He shouts EVERYTHING he says (louder than I do) so that it resounds within the tiny little classroom. And he has this thing which is not a stammer but a tendency to repeat whole phrases. And he always wants to talk about skiing and real estate and how much everything costs. That is, when he's not talking about how the text book is so awful that he had to go out and buy five more just to clarify it, and how he has to do that everytime he studies a language (and apparently all he does is study languages). Dude, if you can afford six books per not-free and not-for-useful-credit class that that you take, you have no need to obsess over money to the point that you ask your classmates and professor what all their belongings cost. And, GODS, he would not let up on the declension and usage of iste, ista, istud for OVER AN HOUR until I started snapping explanations at him when I really should have left it to the professor. Annoying people bring out the annoying snot in me rather too easily. This had to be said. As does this: DAVID, IF YOU FUCKING MONOPOLIZE ANOTHER CLASS BY HARPING ON A POINT OF GRAMMAR WHICH COMPRISES ONE-TENTH OF ONE CHAPTER, I WILL REMOVE YOUR EPIDERMIS IN TINY, SPHERICAL SEGMENTS BY STABBING YOU ENDLESSLY WITH DRINKING STRAWS!!!!!!!!!
OK, that's better now. Class was otherwise quite nice. Not as great as previous sessions because I hadn't realized we'd passed the dividing line between intro chapters which can be successfuly crammed during a subway ride and stuff which cannot quite, but now I know.
The rest of Saturday involved my going to the gym, realizing it was not interesting enough what with my forgetting to bring music, and opting instead to walk from NYU to Ruth Ann's apartment through the lovely, lovely spring.
Incidentally, a poll question: If I were to take advantage of the NYU gym memebership to take a class on a neat, sporty skill, what would be the coolest thing for me to learn to do?
Options are:
A) Stunts and Tumbling
B) Capoeira
C) Rock Climbing
D) Hip Hop Dance
Do vote. All input will be judiciously weighed.
Resupmtion of weekend recap: Arrived at Ruth Ann's where my Aunt Cindy and her amusing, goat-breeding boyfriend Fred were helping Ruth Ann pack the apartment for yet another fucking move. I helped pack. We took Fred out to dinner for his birthday. I discovered one of the best drinks I have ever, ever had in my life. Mango mojitos. They're right up there with that crazy peach thing from the Galapagos. There will be a party just for them. Or not. They're green, and Friday is St. Pat's...
Sunday was intended to be wildly productive. It ended up being moderately productive, which was still so novel for me as to be inspiring. I have decided to go into seclusion until I have ACCOMPLISHED THINGS. Which is to say that things had better get done before Thursday.
Sunday evening was Esbat with the SOS Moon peeps. Good hang-out time, and a small, happy ritual. I called North. Me. North. WTF? But when you've got group of four with two Leos and an Aries, the Aries has no leverage for claiming South. I'm coming to the conclusion that fire signs make up a disproportionately large percentage of the pagan community. But North went OK; was just weird. Also it seems that SOS Moon is being transformed to Mud 'n' Honey, which will be a smaller, still non-coveny group with FIELD TRIPS!
And lastly weekend news that just didn't fit anywhere else. Mom called Friday to say that my grandmother was very ill and hallucinating and stuff. Called Saturday to say she was much worse. Called Sunday to say that some drug they had given her had amazingly fixed everything and she was perfectly normal. They just still don't know what was wrong in the first place. So it's bad, good, and ???? Need to call both her and Grandpa today to get updates and keep Grandpa from getting too down. Lisa and Sara, if you read this, call Grandpa.
Saturday. Latin class in the morning. The crazy guy who sits in the back corner has now attained to that level of annoying that only four people before in my life have reached. The level where I cannot, simply cannot look at them. With two of those people I have actually screamed upon seeing them and then walked away very, very quickly. I have not done that with David yet, and really in a classroom setting it would be even less appropriate than in a cafeteria or on the street, so I will hope I don't lose it. I'm probably already rolling my eyes enough whenever he speaks that I look half as nuts as he. But the other students have been giving me sympathetic looks rather than the wary ones they give him, so I have a grace period in which I can try to calm down and not be alienating.
But, seriously, this guy. He shouts EVERYTHING he says (louder than I do) so that it resounds within the tiny little classroom. And he has this thing which is not a stammer but a tendency to repeat whole phrases. And he always wants to talk about skiing and real estate and how much everything costs. That is, when he's not talking about how the text book is so awful that he had to go out and buy five more just to clarify it, and how he has to do that everytime he studies a language (and apparently all he does is study languages). Dude, if you can afford six books per not-free and not-for-useful-credit class that that you take, you have no need to obsess over money to the point that you ask your classmates and professor what all their belongings cost. And, GODS, he would not let up on the declension and usage of iste, ista, istud for OVER AN HOUR until I started snapping explanations at him when I really should have left it to the professor. Annoying people bring out the annoying snot in me rather too easily. This had to be said. As does this: DAVID, IF YOU FUCKING MONOPOLIZE ANOTHER CLASS BY HARPING ON A POINT OF GRAMMAR WHICH COMPRISES ONE-TENTH OF ONE CHAPTER, I WILL REMOVE YOUR EPIDERMIS IN TINY, SPHERICAL SEGMENTS BY STABBING YOU ENDLESSLY WITH DRINKING STRAWS!!!!!!!!!
OK, that's better now. Class was otherwise quite nice. Not as great as previous sessions because I hadn't realized we'd passed the dividing line between intro chapters which can be successfuly crammed during a subway ride and stuff which cannot quite, but now I know.
The rest of Saturday involved my going to the gym, realizing it was not interesting enough what with my forgetting to bring music, and opting instead to walk from NYU to Ruth Ann's apartment through the lovely, lovely spring.
Incidentally, a poll question: If I were to take advantage of the NYU gym memebership to take a class on a neat, sporty skill, what would be the coolest thing for me to learn to do?
Options are:
A) Stunts and Tumbling
B) Capoeira
C) Rock Climbing
D) Hip Hop Dance
Do vote. All input will be judiciously weighed.
Resupmtion of weekend recap: Arrived at Ruth Ann's where my Aunt Cindy and her amusing, goat-breeding boyfriend Fred were helping Ruth Ann pack the apartment for yet another fucking move. I helped pack. We took Fred out to dinner for his birthday. I discovered one of the best drinks I have ever, ever had in my life. Mango mojitos. They're right up there with that crazy peach thing from the Galapagos. There will be a party just for them. Or not. They're green, and Friday is St. Pat's...
Sunday was intended to be wildly productive. It ended up being moderately productive, which was still so novel for me as to be inspiring. I have decided to go into seclusion until I have ACCOMPLISHED THINGS. Which is to say that things had better get done before Thursday.
Sunday evening was Esbat with the SOS Moon peeps. Good hang-out time, and a small, happy ritual. I called North. Me. North. WTF? But when you've got group of four with two Leos and an Aries, the Aries has no leverage for claiming South. I'm coming to the conclusion that fire signs make up a disproportionately large percentage of the pagan community. But North went OK; was just weird. Also it seems that SOS Moon is being transformed to Mud 'n' Honey, which will be a smaller, still non-coveny group with FIELD TRIPS!
And lastly weekend news that just didn't fit anywhere else. Mom called Friday to say that my grandmother was very ill and hallucinating and stuff. Called Saturday to say she was much worse. Called Sunday to say that some drug they had given her had amazingly fixed everything and she was perfectly normal. They just still don't know what was wrong in the first place. So it's bad, good, and ???? Need to call both her and Grandpa today to get updates and keep Grandpa from getting too down. Lisa and Sara, if you read this, call Grandpa.