We had a campus lockdown tonight.
So tomorrow is Fall semester registration...and I don't have a clue what I intend to take yet. I went in and met with my adviser yesterday and mumbled something about psychology and ethnic studies and fiction workshops and then let him tell me all about the new academic planning online system that the psych department is testing and how exciting and fun computers are.
I think I just screwed myself over on a midterm.
I revised and revised and made fancy notecards and revised...and then was foiled by Human Memory of all things.
I can't seem to keep names and experimenters straight.
And the possible test coverage is so freaking broad that I can't even safely narrow down what to study, I have to go over everything and hope for the best.
But it's a queer dystopia that I'm creating....
I had my critique with my advanced fiction workshop today.
Like a rug that has been woven too tight, my piece is beginning to crack, but the shellac that it has been coated with (apparently) should protect it.
I'm so over you.
No more German Poetry and music analysis--please, no more.
I really don't want to sit through my creative writing critique tomorrow, can't I just...not show up?
Chiong, I love you, hey, you're all into dogs and old people and lady health...but these homework assignments that end up being ten pages long and only worth three points are killing me.
1. Gave a reading
2. Had a long and fascinating conversation about The Cockettes
3. Had awkward conversations with drunkards
4. Fell in love with a woman old enough to be my mother
So...I told my mom that my brother couldn't stay with me tonight.
I feel kind of shitty about it, like I'm rejecting him or something, but the reality of it is that I don't feel comfortable spending an entire night with him by myself--and, my dorm room is not only trashed by cramped and not exactly guest friendly.
Spiders and tiny frogs in my suite's bathroom, hoorah!
Spring break and I'm still at school.
Yes, I'm one of those people...one of the lonely bitches that gets stuck on campus while everyone else runs off to Puerto Rico and Fresno and Portland.
This morning I smashed my left index finger in a chair.
It hurts and it's all swollen and angry.
I also killed a spider. Now my room smells like Raid and my Betta fish is probably working on growing a third head.
I don't want to go to work, apparently I'm too lazy to want to sit in an office and call teenagers and lure them into the lesbo-trap that is Mills.
So, last Thursday we had Sexual Health Educators come to my Women's Health Issues class and ramble on about boring things like pap smears and butt plugs, etc.
Throughout the lecture my professor repeatedly told us to pick up the homework on our way out.
I made a mental note to myself to pick up the homework.
She reminded us again.
My college is a harbor for criminals--an isolated safe haven in the foothills of Oakland.
Dealing with them.
Am very displeased.
Apparently I can't watch KRON 4 anymore.
Damn San Francisco.
I'm not into it.
I want a new dorm.
So, I took a biology midterm this morning, after I woke up feeling like shit and had to meet with some people about a group presentation I'm not even close to prepared for. But, I think I did pretty well, certainly better than the first midterm, and I even studied.
And on to the drama.