(no subject)
So I block scheduled again. Class from 10-10 on Tuesdays, 10-6 on Thursdays. Two hour break from 2-4 both days. Advanced Studio Recording should be awesome--I have Owen again--but it's also intimidating, as everyone else is a senior and has way more experience/knowledge than me.
I am attempting to not be a workaholic this semester. And, yes, this is surprisingly difficult. I don't know what to do with myself when I don't have large amounts of work to constantly do. This means that, in fact, I will no longer be able to make excuses to myself about art, music, and re-learning French, because I will actually have some time for said activities.
I have decided that I should make a documentary about Waterbury for my Honors senior thesis. Leaning toward audio documentary, of course, but Waterbury is hard to grasp without the visuals (maybe I could have a photo supplemental?). I've been making a mental list of people to attempt interviewing.
While I was getting lunch at Subway today, I saw something interesting. I sat down facing the window, and noticed that a guy sitting near me was not even eating anymore, but staring out the window. At a guy being frisked against his car by a copy. Two hysterical (and cracked out) women were with him. Over the course of my meal, more and more cops showed up outside the window, and the women were frisked as well. One of them had her purse emptied to display various drug paraphernalia, including syringes. I left while the police were still speaking with them, so I never found out if they were charged with anything. However, when I was putting out shipment at Newbury tonight, I was startled to see the very same woman with the syringe-filled purse--she had a very distinctive jacket, jeans, and dye job, plus, you know, I saw her getting shook down by the cops for half-an-hour while I ate earlier, so, believe me, same exact woman--asking me where she could find a mirror to look at herself in a hat. I directed her to the next room, then scrambled to tell one of my co-workers and a manager to watch her like fucking hawks. My manager told me later that she was, indeed, acting somewhat shifty, but she was intimidated by both of them hovering on either side of her. Therefore, she put a shitload of stuff on hold, claiming she'd be back later in the night, and hurried off--she, of course, did not come back. I'm glad she didn't take anything, because, well, I work for a company I actually like and care about now, because the company trusts me and treats me very well. A guy set off the gates on Sunday night while I was ringing in the CD room, made like he was coming back, and took off down the street. I wanted to roll over the counter, jump on him, and break his nose. We didn't catch him, so I comfort myself with the thought that whatever CD or DVD he took will somehow manage to set his media player, and, shortly thereafter, his dwelling, on fire through some bizarre malfunction (let me have this one).
I am attempting to not be a workaholic this semester. And, yes, this is surprisingly difficult. I don't know what to do with myself when I don't have large amounts of work to constantly do. This means that, in fact, I will no longer be able to make excuses to myself about art, music, and re-learning French, because I will actually have some time for said activities.
I have decided that I should make a documentary about Waterbury for my Honors senior thesis. Leaning toward audio documentary, of course, but Waterbury is hard to grasp without the visuals (maybe I could have a photo supplemental?). I've been making a mental list of people to attempt interviewing.
While I was getting lunch at Subway today, I saw something interesting. I sat down facing the window, and noticed that a guy sitting near me was not even eating anymore, but staring out the window. At a guy being frisked against his car by a copy. Two hysterical (and cracked out) women were with him. Over the course of my meal, more and more cops showed up outside the window, and the women were frisked as well. One of them had her purse emptied to display various drug paraphernalia, including syringes. I left while the police were still speaking with them, so I never found out if they were charged with anything. However, when I was putting out shipment at Newbury tonight, I was startled to see the very same woman with the syringe-filled purse--she had a very distinctive jacket, jeans, and dye job, plus, you know, I saw her getting shook down by the cops for half-an-hour while I ate earlier, so, believe me, same exact woman--asking me where she could find a mirror to look at herself in a hat. I directed her to the next room, then scrambled to tell one of my co-workers and a manager to watch her like fucking hawks. My manager told me later that she was, indeed, acting somewhat shifty, but she was intimidated by both of them hovering on either side of her. Therefore, she put a shitload of stuff on hold, claiming she'd be back later in the night, and hurried off--she, of course, did not come back. I'm glad she didn't take anything, because, well, I work for a company I actually like and care about now, because the company trusts me and treats me very well. A guy set off the gates on Sunday night while I was ringing in the CD room, made like he was coming back, and took off down the street. I wanted to roll over the counter, jump on him, and break his nose. We didn't catch him, so I comfort myself with the thought that whatever CD or DVD he took will somehow manage to set his media player, and, shortly thereafter, his dwelling, on fire through some bizarre malfunction (let me have this one).