October 10, 2002 :: 12:44 a.m.
Voici quelques mots fran�ais.
I shouldn't still be up, but hey. My plan for tomorrow morning is to roll out of bed at 9, go to breakfast with Adam, and then come back to my room and crawl right back into bed. It's not often that I get to sleep in on weekdays - I may as well take advantage of it, right? Right.
So my paper is done. Too bad it sucks. I hate the topic, I hate way it's written. I hate paper assignments that leave me absolutely no room for creativity or descriptive writing, because facts and harsh and dry and boring, and writing five pages of them makes me want to swear off writing forever. Geh. But in any case, it is done, done it is. I just need to print it out before my conference and then I will be able to scratch one more item off of the "things to do until break" list. My French test is over and done with, which is nice except for the fact that I wasn't nearly as prepared as I should have been. And I missed the 5 point bonus question! I was thisclose to getting it, too, dammit. She asked how old she was, in French. We were to answer, in French (duh). My reply: "Tu as 42 ans." The correct reply: "Vous avez 43 ans." Informal and formal speech needs to catch a speeding cab to hell. I told her that she should give me a few points anyway, for making her younger than she is. Heh.
All that's really left now is to type us my Statistics and study for Anthro. Hardcore studying is required, especially since my professor thought it would be really funny to put stuff on the test that we just learned this week. Thanks for the 1 DAY to digest this shite, Dr. Simpkins. <--- Isn't that a funny name? I never really noticed until now. Hmm. Anyway. Statistics was more evil than usual this time. I actually broke down and cried because I couldn't get it. I was trying my very hardest... I could read the words perfectly well, but the material just would not sink in or even make the slightest bit of sense. Statistics makes me feel very, very stupid. It would probably make me feel less stupid if Dr. Lyons would actually, I don't know, TEACH us? Yeah, that might help. Grr.
I talked to Joe for a while tonight, which was fun. I told him that I'm not sure if I even want to go to the Rufus concert, and he was cool with it. I almost can't believe that I'm sitting here saying that I don't want to go to a Rufus concert. Because I do. Under normal circumstances I would sell a kidney to have the chance to see him live. Hell, Joe and I trekked all the way to New York to see him play two songs. I drove in New York to experience Rufus. And now that I'm talking about it, I really do want to go. But god, I'm just... the thought of all the crap that goes into attending a concert is very much a turn off right now. Like driving, and getting lost (because I am incapable of driving someplace unfamiliar without getting at least a little lost, no matter how exact my directions are), and crowds of people. But I mean, it's Rufus. I'm having a serious internal struggle here. Bah.
I'm going to email Adam and then get to bed, because I'm a very, very tired girl. 'Night.
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