Things seem to be kicking off back home in several arenas, and I'm increasingly anxious to be back. Which is good.

I'm trying to be less worried and more "bite me, world." Frequently, it's no use. But sometimes I succeed.

I wonder if I have a heiligenschein this morning?

It's 11:10 Am and I'm sitting in the library, counting the minutes until I hand in my final final, a take-home exam, at 11:30Am. In twenty-four hours I may not even be on campus anymore. I had a hideous eight o'clock exam this morning and now my energy levels are crashing, though I tried to finish my cornflakes with my roommate and the Finland girl ( Read more... )

Gagging-Banana Reflex: Check

Defective Web-Browsers: Check

Bruises From Being Hit Over The Head Repeatedly With My Own Social Ineptitute: Check

Distracting Chicago (The Musical) Songs: Check

"So I took the shotgun off the wall . . ."Unfinished Research Paper/s: Check ( Read more... )

"I have to eat myself some food."

More Later . . . Tomorrow

Our drama productions (and that's the royal "our" as I've had nought to do with either) require that one takes everything one previously thought they (one?) knew about American conservativism, and moreover, southern conservativism, and chuck everything, all, the whole caboodle, out the window ( Read more... )

I just heard an ad on my suitemate's telly playing the "Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini" song, and was suddenly transported backwards to age seven, sitting at the kitchen counter with a boy friend (necessary seperation previous two words) at my babysitter's (his mother) on the next street over from my house. As we sat on the counter- ( Read more... )

I have a stomachache, possibly from eating too many carbohydrates, and possibly in stressful anticipation of the sheer amounts of schoolwork awaiting me in the next week-and-a-half. But as I wrote to my mother in an e-mail this afternoon, we did not return dormwise to the feared smell of rotting meat, and the bathroom appears to be functioning as ( Read more... )

Have you ever sat in the back of a white pickup covered in a plethora of pirate paraphenalia and thought, what the ---- am I doing here?

I have.

Happy Homecoming Y'All . . .

"Hell yeah, we represent."

"It's all a rich tapestry of crap." - Gwen On The Intricacies Of Anti-Suffragism ( Read more... )