February 14, 2003 :: 12:26 p.m.
french fries are definitely not an aphrodisiac
Ah, Valentine's Day. Flowers and chocolate and lots of sex. Or, in my case, sweet cards and a giant Grumpy Bear and, unfortunately, probably no sex. Stupid roommate. I used to hate Valentine's Day fiercely, because I was always alone. And it sucked. But for the last three Valentine's Days, I've been something other than alone - yeah, together. It's nice to know that someone wants to be with you during all the chocolate-coated, balloon-filled festivities. It's reassuring, and flattering, and all kinds of warm and fuzzy. Some things never change, though - in a few days, I'll still go out and buy myself a cheap, after-Valentine's-sale box of chocolates. It's a yummy tradition, but also a necessity because no one ever gets me chocolates. I think my dad used to, actually, but he stopped a few years ago. I guess I'm too old now or something. Not that I could blame anyone for choosing to forgo the chocolates. It's not like I'm in incredible need of the extra calories here, after all.
Anyway, to move away from the subject of being a fat yet happily coupled person on this most commercial of holidays - thank every god/goddess in existence that it's Friday. Finally. No waking up early, no classes, no homework. Well, actually, I do have homework, but chances are that I won't do it until Monday anyway. Because I'm very bad that way. My Visual Arts professor went over all the stuff that we need to know for the test on Monday, and I'm pretty much unprepared. Damn.
Generally my brain is very good at absorbing information while I do other things, like draw or stare into space and contemplate the universal significance of making waffles with no grid pattern. It's a useful skill to have, as evidenced by the fact that I came through my first semester with a 3.666 (a 3.7 if you round up) without doing a whole lot of anything. And my Visual Arts class is pretty much a review of stuff that I already know, so in theory I shouldn't have any problems. But. Thing is, the questions are of the sort that I don't enjoy. Short essays and such. I'm better with straight, one or two word answers, because I have no desire to prattle on for paragraphs at a time about the various binders in paint. It's boring and, as usual, I don't care. No matter. I'll do fine, I think. I can usually make with the convincing bullshit even if I'm not entirely sure what I'm talking about.
Yet another useful skill.
Gah. Emily is making the room smell like french fries. Now, I love french fries. However, I do not love having my room and my hair and everything I own smell like them. It's gross. If I wanted to smell like fries, I'd get a job at McDonald's and get paid in the process of becoming permanently perfumed with Eau de Grease. God, I think I'm going to gag. This is disgusting. You don't realize how strongly french fries smell until you're trapped in a tiny room with a container of them.
I need to escape this nastiness. Happy Valentine's Day and such. Eat lots of chocolate for me.
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