2004-10-06 Studies in vertigo-orange
So I've been making these flash cards for the past hour or so, right, when I realize that oh! There's all these electronic flash cards I could be using. I don't have to make any at all!
Fuck.
I finished making them anyway, just because I'd already spent all that time and effort.
I'm just one big stressball, and have been since classes started. I really would like to get home here sometime soon, but my mom's busy doing her ren. faire thing on the weekends and I don't want to interfere with that. It's over in a couple weeks, anyway. I think I could wait a couple weeks.
I have a stupid girly crush but I always do. Part of me wants to talk about it, but the rest of me knows that it's not that interesting to anybody else. Short story: Met a kid at the end of the semester (Luke), great guy, hung out with him and chittered at eachother for awhile, been spending more time together lately, been finding out he's a really great guy. I'm sure I'll find out something really terribly wrong that I won't be able to get over and forget about him in a few weeks. It's just what happens.
Or, maybe not. Let's be optimistic for a moment and say that maybe, perhaps, I'll actually stay interested for awhile. And prove to everyone that I don't have the attention span of a cricket.
I've already found out some odds and ends that I'm really not at liberty to discuss that would make most other people pretty heartily disinterested, and they intead made me more interested. Ruth decided that I'm just really curious to see what will happen next. I think she's right.
I want candy. The machine of snacking-vending looks tempting right now.
Hmm. I kind of do need my mommy. I'll have to call her tomorrow. I tried calling her Monday and she was out or something, and never called me back. I called Ruth instead. I managed to start a small fire in my oven (pizza fell on the heating element -- luckily and mysteriously didn't burn onto it, the entire thing just lifted right off), which filled my apartment with black, sticky, disgusting smoke. And I found a huge fucking spider in my backpack. Things which kind of alot suck on their own, but were exactly what I didn't need, and didn't need within 5 minutes of eachother.
Nic emailed me again. Apparently he still misses me. Even though I haven't talked to him for a year. Strikes me that someone needs to. Hm. Move on with his life.
It's creepy to me, is all. Really creepy.
I need to study more.
10.52pm
