I just completely bombed a math exam. This sucks - I thought I was getting better. What the hell.
The exercises in the textbook make perfect sense to me. I can do a whole set of exercises, check the answers in the back of the book and find that they're all right. However, when they actually test me on this shit, the equations are worded in ways that cease to make sense and thus I am completely lost as to what to put down. I'm considering having a word with the coordinator about this - we should be tested on shit in the terms in which we learned it, not in terms that are completely out of left field. Oh, well. I'll just spend the night going over every section that was on the test. No big deal - even if I failed it, they drop the lowest score.
In other news, I have a Psych exam on Friday and a Judaism paper due on Sunday. Not particularly worried about either. However, I have all this shit to do, AND I need to clean/do laundry, which is sort of twisting my viscera.
In random news, I have the impression that Franz Kafka was a very cute person (in demeanor).
The rest of my furniture should be coming very soon. This is fabulous, as I have stacks of clothing all over the chairs :/
Commence Tea Time. Next, Laundry Time.
My sleep has been put off due to heat exhaustion. Yes, heat exhaustion. In my own house. I feel like I'm in some third world tropical country or something. Ugh. Well. I hopped in the shower to get myself completely wet, and came out without fully drying off. Perhaps now I'll be able to maintain a comfortable temperature for sleeping.
So, yeah. I'm a moron. 8D
Yesterday evening, my mom drove me to the Baltimore Greyhound Station. The car key to the car she was driving was attached to the keyring that held my apartment keys. Therefore, they were in Mom's hands. As I was getting out of the car, she forgot to give them to me/I forgot to ask her for them. I only realized this halfway home where I called her in a panic. I phoned my room-mates. They had all gone home for the week. I phoned my landlord, and all I got was a "NIHAO?! CAR BACK TOMOLLO. VURRY BUSY NAO!" before he hung up on me. Extremely upset by this set of affairs, I called Steve, who offered to put me up until I was able to get a set of keys.
So, I thought I'd be able to get them today? WRONG. I called my landlord upon waking up, and after a good 15 minutes of poor communication, he became quite clear that while he could open the front gate and the door to my floor, he didn't have an extra set of keys he could give me that would include my bedroom key, nor could he open my bedroom door. Apparently, my bedroom key is the only one in existence (well, not anymore as my mom just made a copy of it). What this means is, if I went home, I'd have to sleep on the kitchen floor, since I locked my bedroom door before I left. Sleeping on the kitchen floor was not a compromise I was willing to make, so I told him "Oh, well, if that's the case I can't come back today!" Steve is a fucking saint and is allowing me to stay here until my keys arrive at his address - my mom is shipping them overnight to his house, as if she were to ship them to my apartment, I wouldn't be able to get them, seeing as the mailbox opens with one of those keys that I don't have.
Mom just called and said the latest the keys will arrive is Saturday at 3 PM. Good. Hopefully, they'll come earlier than that, but good.
Steve is currently out taking his pharmacy law exam - the last exam he will need to take, ever (that is, if he passes; I think he will though). So I'm here on my own 'til about 4. Woo. I'm gonna go read or something.
Everything is interesting and beautiful and I don't believe in assholery.
Okay, that's a bit extreme but seriously I am fed the fuck up with being looked at and treated like an idiot because I don't always suspect the worst intentions in every action, because I can savor sensations without brooding over the "difficulty" in this and that and annoying details. I can't kill it. I've been through a good amount shit and that hasn't killed it. If something is beautiful to me, there is nothing that can soil that. Nothing. I don't know what WILL kill my "foolishness". I wish I could kill you all so I wouldn't have to feel like I should kill myself - no, not in the suicide sense, but in the destroy-an-integral-part-of-who-I-am sense.
Yeah, so maybe I'm soft. But remember - Soft things bounce back, hard things crack. Eventually.
I feel this general mindset of fear and unease and psychologically-imposed senses of "difficulty" that I combat stems from this pervasive human need to shut down and go against everything we really want - where does that come from? Let's set up the world in such a way that we are all falsifying our desires and identities and then stabilize that world so that we can convince ourselves that it's natural and the way things should be. And if you can see past the glorified structures we have erected of pure paranoia and fear of fulfilling what we truly want for ourselves and one another, you're a very silly person and you just need to wise (or wizen) up. At best. At worst you're a fucking lunatic and a crank. Why ARE we so scared of fulfilling what we really want? I suspect it's a fear of death - if we were fulfilled, that would be a reason to stop doing things. But to keep moving upward in a single place, without fulfilling anything aside from things your paranoia addled excuse for a conscience has deemed "okay" to fulfill, you're dead anyway, so what difference does it make?
Everything feels so backwards - War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength.
Orwell forgot something- Sickness is Health.
The greatest books are talking about this - why must everybody die to exist?
For those who don't understand Hardcore Engrish i.e. everybody xD (what I did was translate what I wanted to say into Japanese, then back to English, then to Korean, back to English, then Chinese, and back to English and I'd repeat this cycle until I felt that what I said couldn't possibly sound any stranger or more removed from what I meant), the basic gist of last night's post was that I am now in Maryland (but only 'til Wednesday), and have several complaints about Greyhound's customer service.
Nearly every single time I ride Greyhound, I have noticed the strange phenomenon of the employees at the ticketing booth making lengthy small talk with customers. It's okay for customers to talk to employees casually in some situations, and for short periods of time. It is COMPLETELY INAPPROPRIATE and UNFAIR to chat up a customer for TEN MINUTES when there are many customers behind them, and even more inappropriate when those customers are on a time schedule and have buses to catch. On one occasion, I would have actually missed my bus if the bus hadn't been late, because while I was trying to pick my ticket up from Will Call, the person at the register would not shut up with one of the customers - "Oh, you're going to ______? My family is from there and blah blah blah blah blah" for a good 15 minutes - no joke. There's obviously no time for this sort of banter when the system in the place you work is extremely busy at all times and operates on a (more or less) fixed schedule. It's absolutely infuriating how many times I've seen this happen, and in nearly every station I've been to (especially the Baltimore and Philly ones, but I've seen it happen in NYC a few times - not so much in less urbanized locations, oddly enough)
I'm coming back up Wednesday evening. I'm only here because I need the sealants on my teeth repaired, and I don't have a dentist in PA. Thursday I need to see Alex about the house again, and meet Bente as she's here from Norway for a bit and those days might be my only chance to see her as I'm going on vacation in the mountains next week. Thursday is also the day Steve takes his law test, so I anticipate some manner of celebration afterward. Of course.
My mom is cooking something that smells vaguely Italian.
ETA: You know how I tend to react REALLY badly to most allergy meds? Well, I found a solution! Children's Claritin. My nose woes are over! I should have figured this before. I have a very, very low drug metabolism. Thus, when I take any medication or chemical, I have to take extremely low doses for it to work and not agitate my body in some way. Well, my side reactions to most antihistamines and decongestants tend to be absolutely ungodly, so I had pretty much given up on them, thinking lowering the dose wouldn't do any good. But I needed something, so I scoured the medicine aisle for something low-dose that didn't contain ANY diphenhydramine, dextromethorphan, or pseudoephedrine. So I picked up the Children's Claritin and figured it sounded pretty tame, and it worked. Hooray. :D
I really cut loose shopping the past two days! (and today, I got a beautiful haircut! it's similar to what I got in April, but the layers are slightly more rounded rather than pointed.) I would show off all my loot and my new 'do, but unfortunately I don't have a working camera. :( It's a shame, too, because I coordinated the outfits really cutely. Finally I feel better about how I look - going through catalogs and magazines gave me a better idea of how to coordinate, as I felt my coordinations were a bit uninspired as of late.
Right now, I'm drinking some damiana-ginger-mint tea and feeling a bit sleepy, despite the fact that the stuff is supposed to make you want to fuck. I guess I'm glad it's not working seeing as no one's around.
At some point this week, I need to call Alex about the apartment, 'cause I honestly don't know if I'll be around on August 1st (lease signing deadline); there's a possibility I'll be in the Appalachians at the time.
Tomorrow I need to buy toilet paper and dish detergent.
This is quickly turning into a to-do list so I'm going to go try and write poetry or make jewelry or something a little more interesting.
That's it. That's frickin' it. I've once again reached the point where everything in my wardrobe feels dated and dingy. Thus, I need to go shopping once more, and I need a haircut, too. I'll probably wind up rinsing out my entire life (at least the physical aspects of it; re-arranging my dresser drawers etc.) in the process because -this always happens-. For some reason, every few months or so, every aspect of my physical life in terms of my physical image suddenly begins to feel catastrophically out of whack - like NOTHING is in place and like I must remedy it as soon as I possibly can or my entire world will fall apart - at least that's how it feels. I'm not sure exactly why this happens; why I get these random bursts of raging, animalistic shallowness. Bleh, it's like I have to renew everything in my physical world constantly so it matches up with/portrays my psychic world. Or some shit like that. Tomorrow I'm going to Ocean City so hopefully I can get some nice things there (and a new haircut, possibly) and then start organizing when I get back to my place (speaking of which I really can't wait to move into my new apartment - WHY MUST EVERYTHING BE NEW, NEW, NEW, GOOD LORD, PLEASE TELL ME WHY)
I don't have to deal with any evil Russians this weekend.
Only charming ones. :D
And believe me, I will deal with them.