Ho ho ho

I love my dear Dustro. It's unfortunate that the photo is of such grainy quality. I did, however, work up an advertisement for Dustro to get him some booty.

Too early

What kind of crazy fucknut sets her fucking alarm to go off at 10 in the fucking morning on a Sunday?!* It started going off, and I thought the ceiling was coming crashing down on me. I peek through my sleep mask at my own alarm — not even 10 a.m. [my clock is five minutes fast]. I seriously wanted to beat puppies. And then when I got up to go to the bathroom and get away from the heinous noise, I glanced over to her bed — her head is less than twelve inches from her alarm. Seriously incensed by then, I stalked off to the bathroom and brushed my teeth rather violently.

I wish I could tell her that most of the things she does piss me off, but frankly, I don't know if I could be tactful about it. And I'm not good with confrontations. I suck.

She also has a test at 8 a.m. tomorrow — Monday. I'm sleeping elsewhere.

* I'm thinking this in all caps in a very large font like Impact, but I decided to spare your eyes for the time being. Apologies also on the frequency of the F-bomb.

Wax Bush and sex toys

I discovered a bit of amusement today when I was catching up on Neil's journal. It's an article from CNN about Madame Tussaud's Nativity display, which depicts Kylie Minogue as the angel and George W. Bush as one of the wisemen, among other amusing celebrities. [You can flip through a few pictures there.] I found it to be a nice commentary, especially Bush's oxymoronic role. An official from the Vatican said that "it was sometimes acceptable to use modern figures in the supporting roles because it can help make Christmas contemporary — but not the central characters."

-- brief pause --

I got distracted just now and I have to rant. I am sitting the the "LarLar" computer room, screwing around online and stuff. My roommate comes in to check her email, back from Wal-Mart [where, by the by, she goes more than any person I've ever met], and she tells me this long-ass story about how she locked herself out of the room and how the RA let her in. And then [wait for it — the kicker's coming] she told me that she went to an "adult toy party" and that she had bought "an adult toy" [I don't know why she didn't just say "sex toy" like the rest of the world.] and that she had to go buy "some of that liquid stuff" [I'm thinking ... lube.] and that it would be here either next week or during J-term and frankly I just don't want to know things like that about her at all. I think I might scream. I, like Franzie, feel the need to throw a tantrum*.

I hate the feeling that I want to kill puppies, but really ... I can't think of any other descriptor. Maybe rip my eyes out with the antenna on my cell phone or something. But seriously, people. I should take up kick boxing. I am seriously needing some de-stress time and frankly, I'm wondering why I'm more stressed by my roommate than homework. Oh, wait. She's crazy.

*Usually this is when I get back to my room and my roommate is sleeping in the middle of the day, but sometimes you just need to make an exception.

Good news

A small list of the good things right now.

(1) I am 95% certain that I will have the job that I want next semester — production manager. That means I get to design a whole new layout for the paper. I'm pumped.

(2) I just got my Buddhism paper back, which I wrote on my zazen meditation experience. I got a B+ [10/12 points], which is wonderful, considering the fact that I've been testing at C-level [sea level] on all of my tests. My grade might go up a little before I bring it crashing down on the final!

(3) I am ahead on my short papers for paideia, and even though I'm down a field trip, I think it will be fine. There are two more left to write — one for tomorrow, and one for the final. And by the by, our final, I believe, will consist of turning in our final papers and having a potluck. That means I'm going to be making green bean casserole for the second time this semester. Yummy.

(4) I am finished serving on the PRIDE council during my college career. Not that this was ever necessarily a bad thing, but sometimes enough is enough. I'm glad to let other people have a chance, like my biddy Sam. She's in one of the co-chair positions for next semester, along with my co-chair from last semester, Sumnah.

(5) I walked by the back door of Marty's at just the right time today. I saw Drea out there, smoking a cigarette [ewe] and talking on the phone. But who was she talking to? Sumnah! I was so happy to get to talk to her for a couple of minutes. She told me that she's having a good time, and I can't wait for her to come back. I think she have some good stories and probably more ideas. And she'll bring the lesbian population back up.

(6) It's rainy/misty today, and I love this weather. I could just eat it.

(7) Tomorrow is Friday, and I am thismuchcloser to going to Greece and Turkey in January. I am beyond pumped. I've talked to a couple of people that are in the same class, and they are getting more and more exicted daily, just like me. [I just told one of them that if I don't see her before we leave for break, I'd see her at the airport. I'm just that excited. Woo! J-term!

This, too

It's days like today when you wonder just how much trouble you'll get into for bludgeoning your roommate with her alarm clock. It's Wednesday, which means that I get to bed late and have lots of time to sleep in - or at least that's how it's supposed to work. But today, like many other days, I was woken up by an alarm clock that I do not own and that goes off for what seems like hours. Sometimes I have to tell my roommate to wake up. How could she not hear that stupid thing? It's loud enough to wake the dead. [I'm sure Gertrude, our resident ghost, hates it as well.] Also, the phone decided to ring this morning [it's never for me in the mornings], before my alarm started going off. What did my roommate do? Barely move through the first two rings, and on the third, she sat up and tried to turn off her alarm clock. So of course I got out of bed like I always do when the phone rings in the morning, answer it, and hand it to my roommate. It was her mother. Reminding her to do her homework, I later come to find out.

This, too, shall pass.

Later ...

I went back to my room to get my books for my classes. I'm walking down the hall, and I hear the tinkling of ... an alarm clock. As I approach my room, it gets louder. I walk into my room and witness the inevitable - she is still sleeping. This was at about 1:05 in the afternoon. This is bad times, I tell you.

And it was warm and damp in there, to boot. Gag me.

Isn't it ironic?

Don't you think?

So I decided that, after work, I ought to get a little reading done in Food for Life: Spirituality and the Ethics of Eating, the last Paideia book of the semester. I also had the munchies, so I finished off a mostly empty bag of cracked pepper chips. Of course, the chapter I was to read was titled, "God and Eating Disorders," which acknowledged that obesity falls into the category of eating disorder, generally assumed to be only anorexia and bulemia. The chapter talked about how people aren't really hungry, and mentioned the "hungry ghosts" from the Tibetan Book of the Dead.

I succumbed to the ghosts - I polished off the chips.