Shaving...a Pillow...Standard Fun...Letter
So today was a good day in general. Thermo was cancelled!! And I read this awesome blog from Breakup Babe that's funny and witty and fun to read as anything I have read. So I had some thoughts today. Like, when I was shaving...why hasn't anyone had the great idea and crazy gusto to shave just one side of their beard? I was watching, not to my satisfaction (I was reading about Halo2 and too lazy to move, even too lazy to close the window I was freezing next to), a show about celebrities's worst red-carpet ideas/appearances. They had things such as shredded clothing, 80's styles, princess crowns, Camo, skirts over sweatpants and things of that nature, and the comedians would put their twist on it to create a scenario of how that actress had to fight off three navy seals and a guy with a switchblade before arriving on the red-carpet, but what would they have to say about some guy who shaved half of his face and left the other side fully haired-up? Like a candid shot of nelly's attributable bandaid, this man would forever be wrought into the fame of eternal fameness for his decision to just not shave the other side of his face. Seems like a small price for glory if you ask me. I mean, if you can become famous for bad singing (American Idol), looking bad has to be far easier. Best of all, if he approaches it with a sense of humor, girls will forgive him for his one-day shenanigan and perhaps his life will be convenienced with more girls as they approach him asking if he was that guy who shaved one side of his beard. Hell, if girls approached me, it'd be no problem, no problem at all to get things ticking from there...Ha. But at least he wouldn't have to do all the approaching after that. This reminds me of a story about Tim my suitemate mark wrote about in the chronicles of Tim involving embarrassing encounters he has on his website which is quite funny. Nick also has a funny website. I'll spot them when I can recall them.
So, last night, my roommate josh lent me his spare pillow and blanket as I began to turn in for the night, and it was comfortable. Today, I check the pillow, pondering, "why is this pillow spare?" and find a peculiar stain drizzled upon one corner of it. Then I recall the day he had this friend Kerrie over and he had his way with her as I went down to McLane for some hours, Mark and Bob went to Drunkville, USA, and who knows where nick wandered to? So I'm not so appreciable if this stain has anything to do with Josh's loins anymore, or any wayward female friends of his, regardless of whether he forgot or not.
Another case-in-point referring to why friends ruin weekends occurred today. As I sat reading Brian's Halo2 magazine, Mark and Nick come in and Bob gets ready and dressed to go. Nobody says anything to me. Curious. "So I guess you guys are going somewhere without me again? Don't worry, I'll just be here then," I offer not to precariously. "It's a small car," replies the Nick I never seem be able to get mad at. Yup yup. It's no secret around here I'm the least favorite suitemate. And yet I have to interact with these people day in and day out, every stinkin'' day at breakfast, classes, lunch, and every hour in between. But like the sly cat I am, I always manage to keep my language geared at them in an appropriate manner (video games aside), despite what my mind's desire conjectures. Anyway, I'm getting used to leaving for dinner without them, and though I can't break the habit of asking them if they want to go with me, I get the feeling I get when I check my mailbox: the certain truth that I knew in the first place they won't go with me, and "my mail" is a term that I can't say exists.
Anyway, Keith and I made it to Walmart after the worst dinner ever. *Sidenote, this eating thing, when it occurs at Ade, is no longer desirable in the least. It is the worst food ever as a result of mass-producing food at cheap prices, a steady supply of consumers regardless of how bad the food is, and the day-after-day redundancy serving the same food each day brings. Walmart is a fun place to be and wander around in, for those of you who don't know this, and I wish I could have wandered a bit more, but keith caught the cold I had on saturday from driving me to alfred, which sucks for him, and he was tired I believe. But we found the 50ft cable I was looking for so I can play Halo2 without interrupting Brian's or Bob's internet access, and handed over the 31 bucks to pay for it, and Keith got his Nyquil, so it was a trip well served. So Keith gets in the car and decides he doesn't want to drive so I tried. Apparently, driving standard is very different car-to-car. I drove it like my civic and stalled it instantly. His clutch has to be floored at all times and you can't let it up without giving it more gas, but after some terrible car joltings reminiscent of bad first-time standard drivers, I figured it out more or less and I had fun, and Keith's car is fine. We'll see if I get asked to drive again though. Hehe.
I have a mere two classes tomorrow but one has the unfortunate circumstance of being at 920 in the AM so I should probably get my eyes closed, not to mention my typing is audible across the 5ft distance to a sleep-striving boy. He was sleeping today though from 3 until 6 though so I don't know what his deal is. It was kind of annoying since I came back and wanted to play(blast) some music and my headphones continue to be recoverable only in my memory and nowhere in the material world.
And before I sign off, I recall one more thing that bugs the hell outta my innards/me. While I was at dinner, everyone in our suite got delivered a letter saying we had to make it to a meeting. This letter, I'll have you know, is the most ambiguous piece of shit ever. The actual wording says, "Staff has expressed some concerns with me about some issues in your suite..." and she wants to speak with us as a group about "these concerns." Well, nobody in our suite has any clue what concerns she speaks of, and the absolute vagueness it brings leaves me pissed-off and curious. Now normally, if you were to ask me to list feelings that went along with pissed-off, I wouldn't name curious, but in this situation that's how I feel, leaning far more towards angry, however. What did we do? What did we do that separates us from every other suite and now we have to go to a meeting to talk about this something that we don't know. This is fucking unfair as we're told to march into a meeting with no idea what we've done, just that something we don't know about is bad and somebody else has to talk to us about us because they care so very fucking much. Frankly, I'm not so sure I like they're grand idea to give us a letter telling us to be at a meeting without telling us what it is about. Aren't we allowed to be enlightened as to what this great issue with our suite is? Or must they spring it upon us as we sit, bewildered, in the office of Residence Life's chairs? I'm not one for surprises and hidden information when it comes to accusing us of some wrong-doing we know nothing about. Our RD, the one that gave us the letter, says she likes us and seems to, based on our last encounter with her due to a stupid noise violation, so approaching her about this mysterious "concern" might be within my capabilities, provided I can find her. And if, for some reason, I ask her and she continues to dance around us without telling the reason of meeting, I'm going to protest the meeting by means of not going. "Fuck that I'm not going to your stupid gay-ass meeting: I don't know anything about that."
And once more before I sign off: does it bother anybody else besides me when somebody, BOB!, channel surfs? A little bit I can understand, I mean, you're searching for a channel to watch. But this fuck0 flipped through the 50 something channels SIX times without stopping! What the FUCK!! And he kept passing up good things to watch! Now maybe, you might say, it's that he wasn't going to stop on a station I wanted to see, that bugs me. But no! Fuck no! I mean yes, sure I'd like to watch something I enjoy, but I certainly don't enjoy individual frames of channels for a second before it's gone. My brain just gets pissed off. Stay on a fucking channel. I don't care if it's golf or one of those stupid infomercials Bob loves to watch, but jesus: six times? Can't you realize after two times through that there's nothing that you want to watch? Turn the damn thing off and do something else you fat couch potato. Point to mention, I don't say these things at bob's face (though somebody not involved in daily interactions with him should), but he does it all the time, this...channel surfing! I can easily leave the room, though nothing else is going on at 10pm, but there I remain watching the channels flip by hundreds of times without pause, and I keep thinking he's going to stop at this very second, because I can't imagine how somebody can keep this up for so long. So I reach the point of breaking and quietly leave the room because now I'm just too god damn pissed off to watch TV in there anymore and I'd rather go sit in silence by myself, or cut myself with razor blades. I guess the moral of the story is that too much channel surfing causes me great anger and from now on, if I break and flip out at Bob I will add "channel-surfer" to the list of things I will call him. Well, I started typing at least by 12 and now it's 2 so I'm gunna let my anger I built up talking about such things dissipate into my dreams, and maybe I'll get to kill some people I don't like in them! Oh boy! I love dreaming. Peace
So, last night, my roommate josh lent me his spare pillow and blanket as I began to turn in for the night, and it was comfortable. Today, I check the pillow, pondering, "why is this pillow spare?" and find a peculiar stain drizzled upon one corner of it. Then I recall the day he had this friend Kerrie over and he had his way with her as I went down to McLane for some hours, Mark and Bob went to Drunkville, USA, and who knows where nick wandered to? So I'm not so appreciable if this stain has anything to do with Josh's loins anymore, or any wayward female friends of his, regardless of whether he forgot or not.
Another case-in-point referring to why friends ruin weekends occurred today. As I sat reading Brian's Halo2 magazine, Mark and Nick come in and Bob gets ready and dressed to go. Nobody says anything to me. Curious. "So I guess you guys are going somewhere without me again? Don't worry, I'll just be here then," I offer not to precariously. "It's a small car," replies the Nick I never seem be able to get mad at. Yup yup. It's no secret around here I'm the least favorite suitemate. And yet I have to interact with these people day in and day out, every stinkin'' day at breakfast, classes, lunch, and every hour in between. But like the sly cat I am, I always manage to keep my language geared at them in an appropriate manner (video games aside), despite what my mind's desire conjectures. Anyway, I'm getting used to leaving for dinner without them, and though I can't break the habit of asking them if they want to go with me, I get the feeling I get when I check my mailbox: the certain truth that I knew in the first place they won't go with me, and "my mail" is a term that I can't say exists.
Anyway, Keith and I made it to Walmart after the worst dinner ever. *Sidenote, this eating thing, when it occurs at Ade, is no longer desirable in the least. It is the worst food ever as a result of mass-producing food at cheap prices, a steady supply of consumers regardless of how bad the food is, and the day-after-day redundancy serving the same food each day brings. Walmart is a fun place to be and wander around in, for those of you who don't know this, and I wish I could have wandered a bit more, but keith caught the cold I had on saturday from driving me to alfred, which sucks for him, and he was tired I believe. But we found the 50ft cable I was looking for so I can play Halo2 without interrupting Brian's or Bob's internet access, and handed over the 31 bucks to pay for it, and Keith got his Nyquil, so it was a trip well served. So Keith gets in the car and decides he doesn't want to drive so I tried. Apparently, driving standard is very different car-to-car. I drove it like my civic and stalled it instantly. His clutch has to be floored at all times and you can't let it up without giving it more gas, but after some terrible car joltings reminiscent of bad first-time standard drivers, I figured it out more or less and I had fun, and Keith's car is fine. We'll see if I get asked to drive again though. Hehe.
I have a mere two classes tomorrow but one has the unfortunate circumstance of being at 920 in the AM so I should probably get my eyes closed, not to mention my typing is audible across the 5ft distance to a sleep-striving boy. He was sleeping today though from 3 until 6 though so I don't know what his deal is. It was kind of annoying since I came back and wanted to play(blast) some music and my headphones continue to be recoverable only in my memory and nowhere in the material world.
And before I sign off, I recall one more thing that bugs the hell outta my innards/me. While I was at dinner, everyone in our suite got delivered a letter saying we had to make it to a meeting. This letter, I'll have you know, is the most ambiguous piece of shit ever. The actual wording says, "Staff has expressed some concerns with me about some issues in your suite..." and she wants to speak with us as a group about "these concerns." Well, nobody in our suite has any clue what concerns she speaks of, and the absolute vagueness it brings leaves me pissed-off and curious. Now normally, if you were to ask me to list feelings that went along with pissed-off, I wouldn't name curious, but in this situation that's how I feel, leaning far more towards angry, however. What did we do? What did we do that separates us from every other suite and now we have to go to a meeting to talk about this something that we don't know. This is fucking unfair as we're told to march into a meeting with no idea what we've done, just that something we don't know about is bad and somebody else has to talk to us about us because they care so very fucking much. Frankly, I'm not so sure I like they're grand idea to give us a letter telling us to be at a meeting without telling us what it is about. Aren't we allowed to be enlightened as to what this great issue with our suite is? Or must they spring it upon us as we sit, bewildered, in the office of Residence Life's chairs? I'm not one for surprises and hidden information when it comes to accusing us of some wrong-doing we know nothing about. Our RD, the one that gave us the letter, says she likes us and seems to, based on our last encounter with her due to a stupid noise violation, so approaching her about this mysterious "concern" might be within my capabilities, provided I can find her. And if, for some reason, I ask her and she continues to dance around us without telling the reason of meeting, I'm going to protest the meeting by means of not going. "Fuck that I'm not going to your stupid gay-ass meeting: I don't know anything about that."
And once more before I sign off: does it bother anybody else besides me when somebody, BOB!, channel surfs? A little bit I can understand, I mean, you're searching for a channel to watch. But this fuck0 flipped through the 50 something channels SIX times without stopping! What the FUCK!! And he kept passing up good things to watch! Now maybe, you might say, it's that he wasn't going to stop on a station I wanted to see, that bugs me. But no! Fuck no! I mean yes, sure I'd like to watch something I enjoy, but I certainly don't enjoy individual frames of channels for a second before it's gone. My brain just gets pissed off. Stay on a fucking channel. I don't care if it's golf or one of those stupid infomercials Bob loves to watch, but jesus: six times? Can't you realize after two times through that there's nothing that you want to watch? Turn the damn thing off and do something else you fat couch potato. Point to mention, I don't say these things at bob's face (though somebody not involved in daily interactions with him should), but he does it all the time, this...channel surfing! I can easily leave the room, though nothing else is going on at 10pm, but there I remain watching the channels flip by hundreds of times without pause, and I keep thinking he's going to stop at this very second, because I can't imagine how somebody can keep this up for so long. So I reach the point of breaking and quietly leave the room because now I'm just too god damn pissed off to watch TV in there anymore and I'd rather go sit in silence by myself, or cut myself with razor blades. I guess the moral of the story is that too much channel surfing causes me great anger and from now on, if I break and flip out at Bob I will add "channel-surfer" to the list of things I will call him. Well, I started typing at least by 12 and now it's 2 so I'm gunna let my anger I built up talking about such things dissipate into my dreams, and maybe I'll get to kill some people I don't like in them! Oh boy! I love dreaming. Peace
posted by Casey at 5:00 AM
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