I've been bad. Where I used to use this thing to procrastinate doing actual work, I've found myself doing even baser level activities to procrastinate writing in here, which is in turn a procrastination of doing real work. So I find myself on Monday, twenty pages of Livy staring me in the face, and after two hours of reading about Piers Anthony on Wikipedia and how to Roach King is upset that bedbugs are taking over the east coast, I finally sit down in front of the computer screen (or rather, click on the "New Post" tab) and decide to write here before challenging the Livy. But I hope you're as happy with this decision as I am.
It's been a pretty killer week. Found out I in fact do NOT have to give a presentation tomorrow (phew), bought a scratching post for my cat, did really well on my homework, umm, watched some good movies, and enjoyed some fine company. My sleep's still a bit fucked, but that's just fine. I tried to remedy this problem with Nyquil last week (as well as a cold I've been fostering) and ended up screwed the entire next day (when I had to take a Greek midterm and have a job interview, which leads me to another good thing, which is that I very well may have a job by the end of the week. I'll tell you about it if I actually get it-- it seems like a pretty good gig). The bottle remains in my medicine cabinet and I think it will sit there for quite some time more.
I have completely run out of money-- which for the time being is all right, I have lots of pasta in my cupboard and just found a whole 'nother cigarette hiding inside my pack-- but it gives me a good excuse to bitch at the university a bit more for their incompetence for getting my loan refund back to me. Seriously, it blows my mind. It's over half way through the semester and because of some strange technicality I have received enough money from them to cover my living expenses for about two weeks, pay two months rent, and for the first of my cat's vaccines. There are two more vaccines she needs, as well as the problem of her tubes remaining intact. This little bastard makes up about 80% of my eight hundred dollar credit card bill. Just another of the things to be paid once I get my four thousand dollars I'm waiting for (and Sally Mae is barking up my tree to get their twenty five dollars a month payment, what the fuck? They still haven't taken anything out of the bank). Looks like kitty is going to have to wait for those other vaccines, although hopefully not until the end of the semester.
I have also made good(ish) friends with some of the local wildlife in the area. During the Phillies series (fuck) I spent a good amount of time in the pizza place/bar around the corner from my place, and although these people are self-proclaimed bums, they have no shortage of intelligent and interesting things to talk about. This one fellow, for instance, Greg. Apparently he went to Berkeley for Political Science, then six years of a Ph.D program somewhere, until finally he dropped out for some reason I cannot recall at the moment. It could all be bullshit, but I've heard this guy tell the story probably four times to assorted company at the same table, and it's always remained consistent. And his friend, whose name I can't remember, who is probably fourty five and black and a REALLY smooth rapper. Just found that out the other night. Slick flow, I say.
Oh, and one other. But this one certainly isn't as friendly as the other two. Well, friendly isn't the right word. He can be just as friendly, but he's much more volatile. A Latin American chap who moved to Philadelphia I think some time ago, named in at least two bands' liner notes and even band names, usually wearing the old school, tacky, poofy red USA olympics caps and ALWAYS drunk as shit. And I'm talking really drunk, shouting something about the Lord Jesus being the Sun in the Night Sky just before he teeters over into my shoulders. And that I need protection, man, and then he hugs me. His name's Omar, by the way. You may have heard of him. I'm sure he's made the news before: the police just ignore him at this point.
Well I've drank my way through about a liter of water during this post and am starting to get a bit anxious about the Livy. Long, horrible night, here I come! I have one pot worth of Fourth Roast beans left and another pound in the mail (thanks pop). Here we go.
PS: you'll notice these silly little squares beneath each post. You don't even need to be logged in to tell me if I'm being an asshole. Take advantage of that shit!
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