sleeeep....

Too much sleep today, and yet I'm still tired. It's pretty bad when you sleep in and miss your one-thirty class. My body needed it, though; yesterday I spent about seven hours, not in DC, but waiting to secure a place to live for next year. Luckily I got the place I wanted, right out from underneath another girl, who had a higher number in the line than I did. Survival of the fittest, I guess. Or in this case, survival of those who don't sleep and show up at the PRT station at five-thirty in the morning.

So I slept, nicely, in a room that is empty of all things that are not mine. Roomate's gone, and I feel fine. She didn't say goodbye to her friends down the hall, and they were pissed. Eh. Hell with her.

No D&D tonight, but instead hanging out with our new potential paladin and other folks, eating processed steak and cheese sandwiches. Much smoking, and listening to John's new boyfriend prattle on about all the urban legends around Fairmont State that he "swears are true." The both of them seem rather alike in the fact that they're both pretty dumb when it comes to certain things. Listened to Crystal bitch, and talked tp Brandy about how the Social Justice department is very concerned about where the pre-op transsexual sociology professor on campus goes to pee. He told us that apparently the rule is that you have to have an "attached penis" to use the men's room. Just so you know. Ha.

Bunnyman is stressed the hell out and depressed about money matters, and the girls in the hall are very loudly directing other drunks to our building. Not that we need any more up here; we've got a good share already. I wonder how they'll get them in through the window...on the sixth floor. Hmm.

I do feel very comfortable in Morgantown, though. It's nice, thinking back, about all the people I've met here who are genuinely good and intelligent; friends whom I met on my own, who are mine. I always used to be the tagalong: someone brings me into their circle of friends, and my acceptance in that circle depends on that someone. It's not like that anymore. Maybe, slowly, I'm starting to be a normally social person. I say this as I hide out alone in my room, but everyone needs some time to recharge.

Back home, our dryer's broken and kiddo's lying to Bunnyman again. We're getting ready to see if our neighbors will screw us out of the house, and seeing if we can get Bunnyman a new job. Not that I'd trade that world for this one, if I could only have one. Not for anything in the world.

Now some linky-dinkys:

Prison Funnies: sometimes sad, sometimes funny, always twisted.

Dubya...drunk off his ass.

new Weebl and Bob: Aah, Vikings!!

huh.

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

so much to do

Things are beginning to get interesting, and it's only the second week of the semester. I'm just beginning to realize exactly how much shit I really have to do in order to pull off even mediocre grades this semester. I should have my nose stuck in a book every waking non-class minute. Obviously, that's not happening, but that's how it should be.

Tomorrow I may be going to DC to protest the inauguration. If I can get everything done that needs done, that is. If I can go, it should be amazing.

I love a good protest.

On a not so light note, collection notices keep pouring in at home. Money sucks and I wish I could pay bills with goods and services. I can make pretty good paper cranes, and I've been told I'm a pretty good vegeterian cook. I'm also available for light housework. I can grow vegetables. Damn collections companies and their non chili lentil sprout soup-acepting ways!

However, my roomate's leaving. By the end of this week, I shall be warm and IM noise free, running unhindered on my own schedule again. With lights, even! This makes me very happy when I look beyond the fact that she completely totalled her car. I know I'm going to need that extra bit of relaxation when shit slowly hits the fan. 'Cause it will.

But I'll be ready this time.

freaks

I've never been the most socially adjusted person. Socializing, for me, has been a learned thing. I've gotten relatively good at it, but every once in a while I get the creeping feeling that I'm not exactly saying the right things in the right company. Too much information, sometimes, or sometimes off-topic. Or sometimes something completely tasteless.

When I was 15, I was in a play in Ireland. The whole thing involved a king's Asian concubines who were shut up in his tomb when he died, along with the builders of the tomb and all that. They danced around, ate the king's body to survive and generally talked about things that didn't make much sense. It wasn't the most well-written play.

The concubines ranged in age from six to sixty. After I flew back that December to New Jersey and stayed at my aunt's house, I was trying to explain this to her. She didn't understand what the king would have wanted with a six year old concubine. I told her:

"Well, they've all got holes."

Of course, the room went quiet. It slowly dawned on me what I'd said, and I walked around red-faced and jet-lagged the rest of the day.

Excuse me if I'm not always the best person to talk to. I try hard, and I listen really well. Honest.

Here're some more freaks:

Funny Flaps

Willy Wonky

Those crack me up every time I watch 'em....

me too. yep.

This is your 5:30 wake-up call.

Wake up!

So I can get some sleep.

It's tough taking night watch shifts when you're waiting for the world to end.

Goddamn, it's cold here.

dear lord...

I have so much reading to do, and so little time to do it in. Unfortunately, it's only the first week of classes. Things can only go downhill from here. Especially when I get to the 600-page book I'll have to read in just a little over ten days later on in the semester. Hesse. Once, I liked Hesse. Something tells me I might not have the same opinion of him in a few weeks.

I guess I won't get any time to play this, either. Damn. No hos for me... Just metaphysics, morality, and WWI fighter jets. I wonder what a brothel would be like made up entirely of prostitute/existential philosophers....?

"I really want you do do it harder."

"That depends on what you mean by 'harder.' This could be hard to me, and my reality is determined by my perception of things. So technically, I am doing it to you harder. You just have to adapt your vision of truth. That'll be $250, please. "

Heh. I read now.

torturing students...one room number at a time

The housing people suck. They tried their best to defeat me, but I showed them. Ha! But now I get no sleep. Damn. Maybe this was their nefarious goal all along...

Bastards.

That's all I have to say about that. Now off to a three-hour long class....

Linky-poos

Santa won't listen to you and you know it. Why not write letters to Christopher Walken instead?

Beautiful Flash, great song, and it's got bunnies: Everyone Has Had More Sex Than Me

No nakie-time in Tabasco..... (gotta love that quote 4th paragraph from the end.)

Roomate from hell.

hoo-boy....

I finally have a computer that's capable of doing internet things again. So after, sheesh, five years? six? I have a website again. Not that this is anything special. Damn progression of technology anyway. (Shh... No-one has to know that I used to handcode everything and now I have a blogger template site.)

So I've spent all day downloading weird music and trying to forget how tired I am. It's like a good, free Christmas when you find random songs you've never heard of that are actually good.

Bands you must listen to or else:
The Harvey Girls
Tuco
Bagman
Angelspit
Eastern Youth

There were a bunch of others I can't seem to recall in my oft-sleep addled state. Eh.

I wish I had the answers to all these problems. I don't, though. Nor does anyone else, for that matter. I know I can ride out the wave, 'cos I'm resilient like that. But I'm also here in my collegiate bubble. He's not. I hope he keeps a foothold....