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| I have an apartment.In other news, I hate errands.
Yesterday during the break in ASL I met Jon, who is deaf. Naturally, when I started talking to him I did the wrong thing, attempting to sign questions to him with my weak and inexperienced hands. Then he answered me plainly and I realized that he could read lips and hear enough to get by in conversation without my spelling out "m-a-j-o-r?" letter-by-letter in his face.
Luckily we chatted it up after class and he wasn't offended.
One of my biggest regrets to date is letting myself slide at this job. This is really something to be ashamed of. So wait... why am I still on xanga?
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| Tu m'laches, embrasse-moi, t'en va,I still live in someone's basement because my apartment for this year has not been purchased after all, the opposite of what I was told months ago. So this is always on my mind, where I'm going to live, how much it's going to cost, if I can afford it...and more bothersome, I guess, is what I was promised and what should have been happening already in contrast to what is happening instead.
I am thankful to have a place to live now but it's hard to live out of laundry baskets and not have a kitchen or my own bed. I already feel detached from campus, and now I'm indefinitely living two miles from it, trying to balance all of my homework.
And work, and the newspaper, and study abroad applications and deadlines.
I just want to relax and be happy. I usually can, but then it comes back and I get pissed off.
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| The Inter-University Consortiu...uh, forget it.Boredom is an interesting sensation. It is an indicator that something lacks. Your brain is telling you to find something that moves you.
Maybe it's a more complicated version of what our neurons screech at the moment we touch a red-hot stove top. "Get away!", they say, from which we can infer, "before you burn your skin!"
So do you think that my job must be melting my brain?
Here is a passage from a book where a man is awaiting his public execution by guillotine:
It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe.
Positivity, lettuce, ethics, love, God, hatred, colored pencils... what's the difference. Is there any? And is that even sad? Are we really supposed to just do what we want?
That's fine right?
Fine with who?
...what!?
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| Forget about what I said...Tomorrow will be a busy day. Pack, go to a follow-up appt. for my wisdom teeth, shop, return a late video, drive to Ann Arbor, drop off study abroad materials, work 4 hours, pick up friend's car, meet random woman at her home. That woman is Natalie Kellogg, my friend Isabel's uncle's coworker. And, for the next three weeks, Natalie's home... more specifically, her basement... will be my home.
I guess some broker problems have pushed our move-in date three weeks later, and two weeks after classes begin. Devoid of a kitchen and two miles from campus, this ghetto-ass arrangement is all we've got. And while I'm gratefully embracing the hilarity of it, I've got to admit it. This is some shit.
Speaking of classes, what do I want to take? Majoring in French, minoring in the environment...I could take another language, and I want to, but then I'm like, 'why? will you use it? will you learn enough for it to count for anything?'. Four more semesters... hmm.
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| Masochist?
I'll be going for a walk or chilling at work and realize that my head hurts. I think about it for a second and notice that I've been sitting with my eyebrows scrunched, and that I am frowning because I am worrying, and I don't even really know why.
Last night I laid in bed and thought about members of my family, one by one, and what they might worry about. And a couple of my friends, and their possible concerns, then I fell asleep and had a dream that I was being awarded a promotion at work while high on marijuana. In another dream I drove home from QD in town drinking a can of Miller Lite and got a DUI when a policeman saw my broken taillight. It happened to be Officer Gay, my D.A.R.E. teacher from ten years ago.
Every ten minutes my heart is fluttering over things that make no difference, and I think 'ignore it, you're fine,' and I really am. Keeping good faith, and it's all about your attitude. However today I want to bitch someone out, climb a mountain, break a window or anything to shock myself out of this emo wonderland that is wasting so many minutes of my life. God damn!
There is so much to be happy about. So what is this?!
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