January 16, 2003 :: 10:26 p.m.
super extra fantastic new and improved multiple orgasm pants
I would like to take a moment to inform you all that I am wearing the best pants ever. And when I say ever, you better believe that I mean EVER. There are no better pants. There have never been any better pants. And oh, there will never be any better pants. Because these, my friends, are truly the best pants to ever grace this lowly mortal realm with their divine presence. They're dark grey fleece pants from Old Navy, and I am forever indebted to Adam for getting them for me. Mmm, fleece pants. I don't think I'm ever going to take them off.
Well, actually, I will. It snowing as I type this, oh joy and unending rapture, so when I'm forced to venture out tomorrow for classes and such I'll have to change into other, less perfect pants. Because I refuse to get these all mucky and gross. They're like the holy grail of pants; it would be horrible blasphemy and desecration to drag them through the snow.
But anyway - snow. Ugh. Kill me. Adam's sister Meghan and her husband, Marty, got back from Hawaii yesterday (or today, I'm not quite sure), and they're all hung-ho about the snow. I, not having spent the last three months on a tropical island where 60-degrees is considered chilly, am not. I've seen quite enough of the white stuff for one winter, thanks. Snow kind of loses its appeal when it doesn't get you out of school. I mean, yeah, it's fun to play in and stuff, but stomping around in frozen fluff gets old pretty fast.
Can you tell I'm not much for the cold weather? I hate it. If I didn't abhor the southern region of the U.S. even more, I'd probably move there just to get away from the cold.
Ooh - my first stint as Dr. Pettice's assistant was this afternoon. I wrote up a bunch of quizzes for her editing class, and then I was forced to come face to face with the horrible, rumbling beast that lives in the basement of the Humanities building. And no, it's not Dr. Lyons and his infernal Statistics, though that was certainly beast-like in its own way. I'm referring to the gigantic, scarily intimidating copy machine that resides in the mail room. It's about as wide across as my dresser, and probably three or four feet across the top. It's controlled by a touch-screen thingy with many, many options and configurations. It's frightening. I'm seriously afraid to go near it. But alas, I'll have to. Today, though, was cake. And fun, too. After the Beast Machine demonstration, we went back up to her office and just sort of sat around and talked for almost two hours. Things discussed: Buffy, LotR, my classes, cats (she now wants a Savannah Cat as much as I do), dogs, children, 80's cartoons, Huggabunch (!), and many more topics that I can't seem to recall at the moment. It was interesting.
She told me that if I were coming back next year, which I am not, she would have referred me to the Writing Center tutoring program. As a tutor, not as a tutoree (is that a word?) - flattering, but weird. It just strikes me as odd that she asked a direction-less freshman who had her for one basic English class to be her assistant when she probably has a gaggle of upperclass English majors to choose from. Hrm. But as I said, it's very flattering. Especially the Writing Center thing, even though I told her that it wouldn't be the best thing for me: I don't generally play well with others, even one-on-one. And I have no patience for lazy or stupid teenagers, especially those of the college-student persuasion. Hypocritical? Perhaps. I'm lazy and stupid sometimes, yes, but I've got enough working brain cells to put together a correct sentence. And if you made it into college then you should at least have that. As it stands, my opinion of higher education hasn't just dropped - it dropped, and then it had the living shit kicked out of it while it was lying helpless and prone on the asphalt. And now it's broken and bleeding and oozing and it won't be out of Intensive Care for at least six months, possibly longer. Send it cookies and lots of money to pay back the overwhelming student loans that I've managed to amass in just one year at LVC.
Tracking numbers should be provided for all online purchases. I ordered a bunch of things that have supposedly shipped, but I can't tell where they are or when they're going to be here. Grr.
Anyhow, I'm going to go read happy Rottweiler stories and get all fuzzy inside with animal-loving joy. Cheers.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005