November 29, 2002 :: 2:07 a.m.
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Gizmo threw up on my bed. I am not pleased at all, because I want to go to sleep, and even though I thoroughly cleaned the area (about sixteen times, actually), the thought of laying on it isn't very appealing. Blah. Cleaning cat puke off of my bed at 2 a.m. isn't really my idea of a good time.
But anyway... Thanksgiving. This isn't exactly my favorite holiday, what with it being turkey-centric and stuff. The requisite family gathering was chaotic and sort of depressing. I felt very out of place, which I suppose isn't much of a surprise since I feel that way most of the time. This whole being at home thing is kind of uncomfortable and weird. I've only been living away from here for three months or so, but already this place doesn't feel much like home. A part of it is the badness going on between my parents, I'm sure, because negativity breeds negativity, but I don't know. It's good to see Amanda and Pat and my parents, but I'd rather be back in my little cinderblock cubicle, curled up in my non-puke-stained bed. Mer.
Tomorrow will be laundry and homework day. Disgusting. I've been avoiding my homework like the fucking plague, but I really do need to start in on it. After all of this shit is done, the semester will be over, and if all things continue as they have been (grade-wise), I'll leave my first semester of college with a 3.8 GPA. It's nice to know that even if the subject matter bored me to tears and the atmosphere makes me want to hang myself with an electrical cord, I can still pull off pretty good grades. The fact that I, unlike the vast majority of students at LVC, am not a complete moron helps a bit. It's good to not be stupid.
Grr. I'm being really incoherent tonight, because I'm tired as tired can be. I hung out with Adam after our respective Thanksgiving shindigs - we rented Murder by Numbers and made a failed attempt to go to the grocery store. They're all closed, dammit... I wanted soy dogs and soup and things. Adam managed to send me off with a can of lentil soup from his house, after much protestation on my part. Hmm. You know, "protestation" makes me thing of "prostitution," which is not similar at all but is slightly amusing. Actually, is "protestation" even a word? I have no idea, and I'm too lazy to look. Oh well. It wouldn't be the first time I've made up a word by accident.
I really do have more to say, but I seriously need to go to sleep. I'm so tired that it's painful. So off to bed I go, to likely dream of unpleasant things on my Eau De Puke scented mattress. Fun times, only... smelly and not. Le sigh.
'Night.
back & forth
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