Straight No Chaser

Zoinks

yesterday i: trundled off to bed at five in the morning, stressed and unhappy about term papers and marcus, respectively. arose at nine-thirty, slaved away at said term papers until the witching hour (two o'clock; passions). finished the second paper just in time to get in half an hour of studying for my six o'clock final. received a phone call that effectively ruined my evening (nothing tragic or serious, just disappointing). was late to class but not as late as dr. calloway, who seemed to realize i was in a hurry and kept us waiting for an absolutely ungodly nine-minute stretch of time. zoomed through the world's easiest final in just under seven minutes, averaging twenty seconds per multiple choice question. rushed across the street to fulfill my next engagement; signed myself in at marcus's dorm and sat in the lobby to wait for him. waited. waited. waited.

waited.

walked back to campus. got another, equally disappointing phone call when i was approximately seven paces from my own dorm. angry! angry angry angry till midnight, when i became angry and sleepy, fell asleep scowling and miserable with jamiroquai playing in the background. received another phone call at one...one-thirty? endured a little more confusion but ultimately wound up where i belonged, was duly rewarded for my patience and demonstrated my forgiveness as best i knew how. played a few deeply satisfying rounds of the "if we were married game." decided i'm impetuous and oversubmissive, and realized with some alarm that marcus has totally stripped away my ability to hold a grudge.

and not just with him. i can't stay mad at anybody anymore, and that's one of the few social things i was actually good at once.

my mother came to visit this weekend. we had a good time, which we generally do when my dad and brother aren't present. i'm really proud of her for being so personable and vivacious at almost-fifty, not that that's a rarity, just, i don't know. some women her age suck their teeth at loud music and damn everything that moves faster than a golf cart, and she'd rather just be part of it. i'm the crochety old woman who complains and is constantly on the lookout for a sitting place, and she's the pretty, well-dressed one who draws stares from men half her age. which is a little depressing, but what can we do.

i also saw the amityville horror. i've been thinking, based not so much on the movie itself but on the series of formulaic previews that preceded it, that when future generations look back on contemporary culture from this nameless decade, they're going to scoff or at least chuckle at our ability to squeeze the life out of EVERY cinematic convention we can get our hands on.

boring entry. i guess i need to get back to the group forum and scour it backwards for a prompt.