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On my way to see my government adviser this afternoon, I ran into Dr. Sager in the elevator. I took all three of Dr. Sager's constitutional law classes and loved them. Even when I felt like not doing any of my other homework, this was the stuff I loved to do. I worked my ass off in his classes and really wanted him to think well of me. Unfortunately that never happened. Well, maybe he did think well of me, but I was never able to break into the Sager Circle. That always bugged me, but not enough for me to avoid him. I always learn something from Sager. I haven't enjoyed my other government classes nearly as much as I have enjoyed his.

Anyway, we said hello and then he said, "Haven't you graduated yet?!" He said the same thing to me last February when I saw him at a friend's wedding. I told him that I would be graduating in May and he said, "My, it's taking a long time, hmm?" GROWL No, stupid! It isn't! I took my first class with you in Spring of 1999! I will graduate a mere 3 years after that, you jerk! Argh! Yes, I am 24. Yes, all my friends from high school have graduated and have Real Lives. But I have only been going to school full time since Fall 1998. Eight semesters. Four years. Bite me, Sager. Oh, and by the way, I am enrolling in your Law of Politics class next spring. Think I could get a recommendation letter for law school? Argh.

So on to the meeting with the government advisor. I am so close to graduation I can almost taste it. Assuming I pass the italian class and the geology class, I will only need to take 2 government classes, a sociology class and the final italian class. That seems like a decent semester. A government class with Sager and one on the politics of the Supreme Court. Bitter (YCT chair) is going to take the Sager class with me, so I am doubly excited. As for sociology, there are tons of great classes being offered. I am hoping to get into the Deviance class. It shouldn't be a problem as I get to register early in the process. Of course italian will continue to kick my ass. I told my advisor that if I ever become rich I will only donate large sums of money to the University if they lower the language requirement to 2 semesters instead of 4. Italian has been the source of so much stress the past couple years. Ugh. And I will be broke for so long by the time I get to Italy I will have forgotten all those silly verbs and phrases! Bah to a liberal arts education.

I have decided to change my status to pass/fail in my government class. This means the class will only count as an elective and not contribute to my major. But that is fine because 1. to try for a grade would screw up my 3.5 in government, 2. the requirement it fulfilled can be easily replaced by the Supreme Court class. And, in case you didn't know already, I hate this class. A lot.

But the basic point is that there seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Now if I can just make it through without getting hit by the train.
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There is something strangely attractive about tossing the plan I have been working on and going the exact opposite way. Go off, get married, have tons of kids and drive them all to soccer practice in my SUV. Last night at the movies there was a family in the back row. They had a little boy who looked to be about 3 or 4, and a tiny little baby girl who couldnt have been older than 9 months. The little boy and I shared a little grin and a wave, and I just wanted to scoop him up and ask to hold the little girl too.

Ahhh, I hate the baby aches. Every once in a while I get this urge to be surrounded with little babies who smell like baby powder and curl their little fingers around your hands. The best feeling in the world is a sweet little baby sleeping on your chest.

Who is this typing? Where is Krissy Monchichi and what have you done to her?!
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Goddamn everything. And everyone. I am tired. But I am still awake. I laid in bed for awhile, I don't know for how long. But I am back here, and I am lonely. May could have something to do with VB and her shots. Of course I was only supposed to keep track, not participate. But whatever. I keep biting on my tongue because there is some cut on it that hurts. It hurts when I bite on it, but in a weird pleasurable way. Yeah, I'm a freak. Whatever. I wish I could bite the end of my tongue off. It hurts. And I hurt, and I wish I had something to show for that. Isn't it odd that people feel they need something to show for their pain? The pain isn't enough; they need something tangible. Like a bruise. Or a scar. Isn't it strange how the mind works in some of us? And isn't it strange that we should share that with virtual strangers?
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Hm. I have slipped from cooking my meals everyday to el cheapo frozen meals. I predict that by Friday I shall be surviving on whatever crackers or twizzlers are left in the apartment. Actually, I had better cook tomorrow. I bought meat at the grocery store yesterday, in a flash of optimism, and it would really kill me to have to toss it out. I already have to throw out some sausage that has been staring at me for a couple of weeks now. I would just toss it all in the freezer, but then I would never cook it. When I moved out of the old apartment I threw out about 10 bucks worth of chicken that I thought I would eventually cook. The sell by dates were from last September and November.

First day of school was today. I had italian, 1-2pm. I got to the bus stop at noon, right on schedule. I arrived at the classroom with plenty of time to spare, so I leafed through my notes from previous italian classes. I noticed people around me with the telltale purple italian book writing what looked to be essays. There were too many of them on the same page in the book for it to be coincidental, so I asked someone what the deal was. Turned out that the italian professors all gave a homework assignment to their ITL507 classes. I wasn't in ITL507 last semester. I was in the accelerated second year italian class. If I had passed it I would be done with this ridiculous language requirement.

I am all for well-rounded students. I think people should be aware of cultures besides their own. But I don't think I should have to take four semsters of a language when business and most of the science students don't. People should know foreign languages. But we should learn them in elementary school, while our brains are still mushy.

Ugh. It is killing my GPA. Of course, so are the science requirements. And the math. And the electives. Okay, I would rather just take all government classes. Would that be too much to ask?
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Checked the government grade today. The exams weren't posted, but the cumulative grades were. I got a B. A sucky, crappy, mediocre B. And please don't rush to comment that I should be proud of that B and that it is a good grade. I know that. It is a respectable grade. But not the one I needed/wanted. And certainly not what I was capable of. By now I can take a government class with my eyes closed and get a B. I am tired of it. I studied all week only to be undone by mind gremlins. I think I don't really want to graduate as much as I say I do.

I still haven't finished compiling the ratings. I have all the factual information, but I am having trouble writing the recommendation. I don't want to look dumb in front of the big bad YCTers.

I need a haircut. I went to get that done today, but they were booked, so I had to make an appointment for tomorrow. I was disappointed, because I really wanted it done today. Not only was I tired of looking at brown hair, I am tired of wearing the same ponytail/bun everyday. I just hope I can pull off shorter hair. Though I can barely pull off the longer hair, so it's really six of one, half dozen of the other. Something I am sure of though is that my mother will hate all of it. The only real variable is whether she'll hate the color or the cut more.

I can see where this is going so I will close here.
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I went to the pharmacy, and I went to the post office, and I put gas in the car, and I bought peanut butter m&ms. And I colored my hair. Sort of. I have been trying to grow the black out, so I have just been letting the natural brown come in. But I got tired of looking at the brown, so I decided on red. Bright purply red. And even though I knew it probably wouldn't turn out, I colored it anyway. And the part that was natural brown is now a cool red. But the black part is still black. Even though the box said it would color black hair. Of course they probably meant naturally black hair.

I have an irrational fear of Drano. I am always afraid I might accidentally drink it. Not that it might spill and get onto something like my toothbrush, or that it might splash into my glass. No. I am worried that if it is left out on a counter I might accidentally walk over to it, open it, and chug the bottle down. All by accident! And by the time I realize what I am doing it would be too late!

In the same vein, today when I was drying my hair, I turned the water on to re-wet my bangs. While the water was on, I tightened my grip on the hair dryer because I thought I would drop it (because I might forget I was holding it) and electrocute myself.

Today was the first day of the second summer school session. I am taking a geography class on weather and climate. The instructor is a weatherman for the Austin CBS affiliate. He is funny and laid back, and his lecture style seems like it will be easy to follow. The classroom is wonderful. I know that sounds silly, but after having classes in some of the oldest, most uncomfortable rooms on campus, this room is a dream. Soft, movie theater style seats, with a large desk and lots of legroom. Yay. There are 4 tests scheduled (ack!), but none of them are comprehensive. And one of them will be dropped. And one of those counts as the final.

A few goals:
1. perfect attendance this week (normally I would say perfect attendance all session long, but I have to work on smaller more immediate goals)
2. an hour of reading a day- there are only a couple of chapters assigned for each day, so I should be able to complete them in an hour's time
3. finish the reading by 3pm

I think that's enough for this week. I already feel like I won't accomplish any of them (though before I wrote them down I felt like they were reasonably achievable).

Okay, I am taking my silly pink head to bed now.

JoeyHemlock, if you are out there, I miss you! Get your butt back into the LJ groove, you hear?

And quix, just so I can increase my chances of getting a comment from you...mullet.
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There was a fire at an apartment complex right across the street from me last night, but I didn't hear a thing! I had no idea how oblivious I could be.

Have you ever told someone a lie while hoping they would call you on it? Have you ever had someone who always knew when you were lying and you were glad?

I wonder what kind of shakeup would occur if the parents actually knew the state of my life lately. They know I am a little wacked out, and certainly unbalanced, but they think (as usual) that everything is under control. When it is not. So very, very not. But they only think that because I have become very skilled at the use of the word "fine" and the cheery little chirpy voice. And if I sense they don't quite buy what I am selling, I will allow that I have been a little scattered, but it "isn't anything I can't handle. Really." So if they aren't pushing the issue, it is noone's fault but my own. What the hell is so fucking hard about asking for help?

Per esempio, the emergency room bill. How I thought I could pay it by myself I will never know. But did I ask for help? Nooooooo. They offered to pay the deposit on the new insurance policy and asked me to remind them to write a check, but did I remind them? Nooooooo. (sad little sidenote: I had to count the 'o's in the last two "no"s to make sure they were equal)

News event for the day. Yet another mother left her 8 month old daughter in a car. She forgot to drop her off at the babysitter's home, went on to work, and did not discover that her daughter was still in the fucking van until late afternoon, when she went to pick up her son at day care. Her attorney's argument? She is a CEO and that morning was especially busy. Plus, her husband usually took the baby to the sitter. Basically, she just had too much on her plate and didn't know the routine.

Unacceptable. How do you forget your baby is in the car? I know that at that age the carseat is turned around, but babies aren't silent little creatures who can be overlooked. This poor child was cooked to death. The van temperature was an estimated 140 degrees.

No, there may not have been malicious intent, but this is a serious case of negligent behavior. This mother probably feels terribly, but just because you are upset does not mean you are absolved. I hope she is prosecuted.

[stepping down off soapbox]
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Yeah. I should be asleep. But getting up so late yesterday messed me up for today, so I am not tired yet. But I am sure that by the time 8 or 9:30 rolls around I will be dying.

I've been watching alot of NewsRadio lately. T and I used to watch it all the time, it was my "contribution." We belong together like H and 2O. Good times, good times.

While I was reading yesterday, I zoned out for a little bit and had a very vivid daydream about T. We were hanging out in his apartment and then we went grocery shopping. It was eerily comforting. I felt like we had really been together. Spooky.

Oh man. They are interviewing the parents of the Houston woman who drowned her children. They have nothing to add to the story. This is sensationalism at its worst. Why must we be informed of every intricacy of this woman's past and the lurid details of her imprisonment? And why do journalists ask questions that they know the family won't answer? Like her mother is going to indict her son-in-law and blame their oppressive religious beliefs. Unbelieveable. Diane Sawyer is asking the grandmother about retrieving her grandson's butterfly collection when a butterfly landed on her shoulder. This is what passes for journalism? Ugh. Those poor people. What made them accept this interview?

Children die everyday. Some at the hands of their parents. A month or so ago, a father in Dallas shot and killed his two daughters- why aren't his parents on GMA?

I just balanced my checkbook, and I am woefully, pitifully broke. That emergency room bill is going to kill me, and there's no telling what the follow-up clinic is going to cost. Add to that the $250 I have to send to the new insurance company and I won't be able to even eat ramen! Hmm. My prescription runs out in a couple of weeks too, which means another $120. I wonder how many times a month you can donate plasma....

I should just get a job, but I start work study in August, and I would feel pretty badly about starting work somewhere just to walk out on them in a month and a half. Though if it comes down to eating or screwing over some minimum wage job, I'll take eating.

Hmm. Now they are interviewing a 13 year old lightning strike victim and his family. Riveting. I guess I should be thankful it is such a slow news day. Though I suspect there is actually plenty going on. Which reminds me, I must remember to buy the NYT when I get to school. I should probably write it on my hand.


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