Norweigan bark

Om Namah Shivaya

:)

:o

:I

:(

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LOEDLAW

Today was such a giftful day! My L&T teacher gave us several gifts:  First, even though we have to go to a mandatory open mic reading, she arranged it to be in the art building and is chipping in to buy us ice cream!  Second, she gave me something I'd wished for:  an extension on the 10-page paper!  I've only written three pages and it was going to be due tomorrow, but she's letting us turn in the revision on Monday!!! Third--and this is the topper--we get the morning off, so we can SLEEP IN!  And when we do come to class, we're going to read MLK, Jr.'s "Letter from a Burmingham Jail."

Monday's devoted to talking about "Docile Bodies" (boring) and meeting about essays.  So from here on, it should be fine!  I'm sooooooo relieved.  I woke up feeling angry for repeated sleep deprivation and current menstruation.

I just got another gift.  I had walked back home from class in the heat, wearing boots.  My friend Annie wanted to meet me at the computer lab, but I couldn't face another long walk.  Instead of trudging, I thought, "Why don't I bike there?"  I asked Kat if I could use her bike.  She said yes.  I couldn't find Annie at either of the computer labs, but that gave me an excuse to ride to the north reaches of campus.  I haven't ridden a bike in a month.  The movement in my lungs and the breeze in my face, the speed of going down hills--all of that was fucking blissful.  :)

My first tears of college have to be over a paper.  Of course.
NO
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I just remembered the feeling of loving him.  Something deep is still there.  Like a pod. A seed.  A bean.  Not even tangible..even though we weren't working on a friendship level or committing level, I got something from him no one else has ever given me.  It's insane.

I miss him.  That's all there is to it.

College

Rolling around and wrinkling my brow to indecision, indecision, indecision.  Moral scales, practical hangups.


There's the cost and risk.  The brand-new fundraising deadline.  The fate I'd have if I didn't go to school as planned.   (Many possible scenarios could be dreampt up.  I don't know how many I'd enjoy.)  


I await advice from someone who doesn't know me.  Someone who broadcasts their opinion to the general public.   I'm counting on a verbal sign. 

Huh?

"What’s a Face To Do" by Tina Turner N. Hooch
The hint of crabbleberries being juiced always turns the nose.
Wash away my plumbing sins, use Moses as your hose.
Go to market with our yield, steaming still in buckets.
I used to ride the mule but then it died so I say fuck it.
Rasin Bran.