Martin Hall blows my frigging mind.
I know I've been slacking about updating, and I apologize for that. Often I get the feeling that, living up here in this sort of little vacuum, that I've let some of my other friends fall to the wayside. For this I am also sorry, but I can't really do all that much about it. In fact, I can't seem to find the time to hang out with many of my friends up here. It's primarily the same group every day for lunch and dinner meetings. The rest of the time I'm usually in my room or at a Quick Recall practice or some honors panel thing (we're doing one on Chomsky for those interested). At any rate, I'm busy; I don't particularly want to go all emo and bitch about it for about five pages.
A really cool thing happened yesterday, though. I got to hang out with Heather Steele at her apartment over by Pizza Hut as I have coaxed her into doing quick recall team with me. Practice was cancelled, due to a lack of keys situation, and Heather and I just went to her place. She's got a nice place set up, and it really brings out her OCD which is cute on her for whatever reason. She's always been a little out there, but she seems much happier now. She shared love stories of trysts with an ophthalmologist and whispers of future trips to the Caribbean as well as tidbits over what's going on. Small talk felt good for a change. She and I will get to spend more time together, more like we did in high school only we're not immature bitches now, because she's in Phi Sigma Pi (which I am joining) and doing quick recall (just like olden days).
Class is going well, I suppose. I had a quiz in NAT 172 the other day that kicked my ass, and I was totally lost doing the lab in the lab portion of the same class. Sean and science certainly don't get along. Hopefully I will redeem myself with the essay I have to turn in for ENG 301 on Tuesday. It's no big deal, just a two or three page traditional five part essay over my writing habits. For those of you unfamiliar, the five part essay is something that was made up by people who can't write in a futile attempt to find a formulated way to arrive at something readable and coherent. It serves those purposes well, but it's bland and boring. Ah well, I am sure we'll explore around and do a bit more of the exotic farther into the semester. I love my Honors classes, they're both uber interesting and I know that makes me a hardcore nerd, but that's ok.
One thing is a little odd, however. Martin Hall is apparently some sort of supernatural magnet that attracts all of the idiocy that isn't dragged into community colleges. We have some of the dumbest, and strangest, people living in this dorm that I have ever met. Having lived to Florida, that's saying something rather significant. There had been, until the janitors painted over it, a raging debate about the Civil War on the bathroom stall next to the window in the bathroom that I frequent. Such enlightened musings as 'The south wasent right, but I hate them ni**ers' and 'Ni**ers smell bad when they get wet' were among the banter on the wall. Eventually someone got tired of the bickering, after the wall had accumulated thirty or forty messages, and wrote in six inch tall black letters with a permanent marker 'Can't we just shit? Gosh!' Shortly thereafter they painted the wall.
Now, another odd thing I need to tell you about. Shower etiquette is lost on these folks. Take, for instance, just a few days ago I was enjoying my routine 8:30 AM shower. The water was on, the curtain was closed, and my things were sitting directly outside of the stall, in front of the curtain. Suddenly this fellow, who looked to be from somewhere about or around Wooton, opened the curtain and then stared blankly for a minute before nonchalantly saying 'Oh....sorry.' He then proceeded to the stall next to mine without incident. I was still rather embarrassed, as when he had opened the curtain my gut reaction was to cover my nipples and man breasts rather than my twig and berries. Note: Sean lacks proper instincts.
Well, tonight a similar yet more bothersome incident took place. I was in the shower and had heard someone else come into the showers. It was no problem, though, as he went to a separate shower. It became a problem, though, when I stepped out of my shower (having dried off and put clothes on already...I'm NEVER naked in public view) my eyes were dealt a nearly blinding blow. This young man, who I would have to guestimate as being about 6'2'' and 290 pounds, was naked and showering. He, for whatever reason, had opted not to make use of the provided shower curtain. Strange fellow.
Of course, I had my own bad shower experience. A few weeks ago, I got in bed at around 3:30 AM. For no apparent reason, I woke up at 5:15. As no one is in the showers at this time, and I try to avoid showering with anyone else in the stalls (I'm weird like that) I decided that it would be a great time to go ahead and shower and get ready for my 10:10 AM class (SPA 102). So, I'm in the shower and things are going fine. The next thing I know is that its daylight, I'm in a fetal position on the floor, and I'm still naked with the water still running. At the time I woke up, a young fellow was poking me with a stick. I suppose I had fallen and passed out in the shower (my head felt REALLY funny the next day). When I came to, he ran off like a f***ing gazelle and I've not seen him since.
So, I'm going to be in Corbin this weekend. If you want to hang out, you should have my numbers. If not, tattoo them onto your eyelids. My cell is 606.215.9359 and the house phone is 606.523.1263. Now when I'm in Richmond, my dorm number is 859.622.4661 and if you ever want to visit, I'm in room 103. Hopefully I will begin updating much more frequently. Good day, pets.
A really cool thing happened yesterday, though. I got to hang out with Heather Steele at her apartment over by Pizza Hut as I have coaxed her into doing quick recall team with me. Practice was cancelled, due to a lack of keys situation, and Heather and I just went to her place. She's got a nice place set up, and it really brings out her OCD which is cute on her for whatever reason. She's always been a little out there, but she seems much happier now. She shared love stories of trysts with an ophthalmologist and whispers of future trips to the Caribbean as well as tidbits over what's going on. Small talk felt good for a change. She and I will get to spend more time together, more like we did in high school only we're not immature bitches now, because she's in Phi Sigma Pi (which I am joining) and doing quick recall (just like olden days).
Class is going well, I suppose. I had a quiz in NAT 172 the other day that kicked my ass, and I was totally lost doing the lab in the lab portion of the same class. Sean and science certainly don't get along. Hopefully I will redeem myself with the essay I have to turn in for ENG 301 on Tuesday. It's no big deal, just a two or three page traditional five part essay over my writing habits. For those of you unfamiliar, the five part essay is something that was made up by people who can't write in a futile attempt to find a formulated way to arrive at something readable and coherent. It serves those purposes well, but it's bland and boring. Ah well, I am sure we'll explore around and do a bit more of the exotic farther into the semester. I love my Honors classes, they're both uber interesting and I know that makes me a hardcore nerd, but that's ok.
One thing is a little odd, however. Martin Hall is apparently some sort of supernatural magnet that attracts all of the idiocy that isn't dragged into community colleges. We have some of the dumbest, and strangest, people living in this dorm that I have ever met. Having lived to Florida, that's saying something rather significant. There had been, until the janitors painted over it, a raging debate about the Civil War on the bathroom stall next to the window in the bathroom that I frequent. Such enlightened musings as 'The south wasent right, but I hate them ni**ers' and 'Ni**ers smell bad when they get wet' were among the banter on the wall. Eventually someone got tired of the bickering, after the wall had accumulated thirty or forty messages, and wrote in six inch tall black letters with a permanent marker 'Can't we just shit? Gosh!' Shortly thereafter they painted the wall.
Now, another odd thing I need to tell you about. Shower etiquette is lost on these folks. Take, for instance, just a few days ago I was enjoying my routine 8:30 AM shower. The water was on, the curtain was closed, and my things were sitting directly outside of the stall, in front of the curtain. Suddenly this fellow, who looked to be from somewhere about or around Wooton, opened the curtain and then stared blankly for a minute before nonchalantly saying 'Oh....sorry.' He then proceeded to the stall next to mine without incident. I was still rather embarrassed, as when he had opened the curtain my gut reaction was to cover my nipples and man breasts rather than my twig and berries. Note: Sean lacks proper instincts.
Well, tonight a similar yet more bothersome incident took place. I was in the shower and had heard someone else come into the showers. It was no problem, though, as he went to a separate shower. It became a problem, though, when I stepped out of my shower (having dried off and put clothes on already...I'm NEVER naked in public view) my eyes were dealt a nearly blinding blow. This young man, who I would have to guestimate as being about 6'2'' and 290 pounds, was naked and showering. He, for whatever reason, had opted not to make use of the provided shower curtain. Strange fellow.
Of course, I had my own bad shower experience. A few weeks ago, I got in bed at around 3:30 AM. For no apparent reason, I woke up at 5:15. As no one is in the showers at this time, and I try to avoid showering with anyone else in the stalls (I'm weird like that) I decided that it would be a great time to go ahead and shower and get ready for my 10:10 AM class (SPA 102). So, I'm in the shower and things are going fine. The next thing I know is that its daylight, I'm in a fetal position on the floor, and I'm still naked with the water still running. At the time I woke up, a young fellow was poking me with a stick. I suppose I had fallen and passed out in the shower (my head felt REALLY funny the next day). When I came to, he ran off like a f***ing gazelle and I've not seen him since.
So, I'm going to be in Corbin this weekend. If you want to hang out, you should have my numbers. If not, tattoo them onto your eyelids. My cell is 606.215.9359 and the house phone is 606.523.1263. Now when I'm in Richmond, my dorm number is 859.622.4661 and if you ever want to visit, I'm in room 103. Hopefully I will begin updating much more frequently. Good day, pets.