...the party didn't make it here...
!!!
a writing exercise. a window. a handshake, an embrace. wide glimpse of the small moments.
I can't even describe to what extent this has been a horrible day. The inefficiencies of my university have reached an all-time high and their bureaucratic fuckups (the ones which slated me as third year and not fourth) have had an unexpected consequence that makes me wince: apparently I received my scholarship allowance for third year last year when I *was* in third year, but this year I don't yet qualify for fourth year until January and am now in some kind of limbo year. Since they can't give me my third year amount again, and can't give me my fourth year payment at all until I am in fourth year, this year I get nothing. *Next* year I can get my fourth year payments, but next year I will be taking a credit and a half so they will pay me something like $800 for those credits. This years credits? On me.
HFTS and Phil Booth: "Something lovely is happening in the sky and it has direct relevance to you and your future. You are being freed from a trap into which you have inadvertently fallen. A solution that has eluded you will come to your attention."
Mint chip cone in hand, I was walking down Unionville Main in a brown linen dress and Hepburn shades when I heard him call my name. Greg was sitting with his mother outside the Arms, she had a cappucino. He said in an excited tone what I was thinking with dull incredulity: "I haven't seen you since high school!". In my head, I qualified that to: "I haven't seen you since prom" followed by "I can't believe I went with you to prom".
In my excessive melodrama I forgot to mention that I was able to enrol for every lecture I wanted for this year, including not one but TWO courses with Danesi. My academic hormones are starting to fly high, and I'm feeling the urge to buy copious amounts of sparkly notebooks and flowy blue pens.
There were several birthday greeting waiting for me today on my facebook wall, among them a message from a girl named Brin who says she misses me, that it's been too long since we've seen each other, and we have to have baklava again soon. Now, I am fairly certain I don't know this girl and I am absolutely certain we have never had baklava together. The reason I am certain of this is that I hate baklava. This isn't the first time she has messaged me though, with messages that you wouldn't send to a stranger, and she has been on my friends list for several months which naturally leaves me confused. Who does she think she is speaking to? Does she really think she knows me? Do I have a body and *name* double running around the city interacting with people who think it is me? I don't know what could account for all this.
In brief, due to exhaustion:
This is going to be a lousy day. Some things I can just feel. You may have noticed it's a little after 6am and may be wondering what wakes me at this hour. Well I attempted to enrol in courses today, satisfied that my 6am start time would ensure my entrance into any of the courses that set my academic heart a blazin. I signed on only to be met at every attempt with Error 6708 deadline reached. Panicking I tried to figure out what this means, landed back on the View Start Time page and noticed that the date stamped next to my time wasn't July 11, 2006 but July 17, 2006.
Oh fucking eh.
It was such a gorgeous compliment, better than any of the others, because it was about something that matters. But maybe I wish it hadn't been said; or that I could remember exactly the wording in which it *was* said; or that I was just in another place completely mentally and physically because this one is getting so tight. I'm the one in the corner.
A lady sat next to me on a bench in the streetcar alcove with her grocery bags at her feet. We sat for several minutes in silence, each of us watching the rain that poured in sheets outside. A moment later she began singing softly under her breath, raising her voice so slightly as she finished the phrase. My first inclination would be to think her crazy but then I remembered all the times I have been so filled with a song it rocked me inside, and I have to sing to let it out. I knew from the way that last note shook that she must be one of those.
Something I've always wondered, but wonder again rather desperately this week. Sepi, how do you get your hair as gorgeous as you do?
I'm having a tough time keeping my blood sugar on the level this week; I'm just all over the place. Today was a low day and nothing I did brought me up to *stay* up - I ended up sluggish, with a migraine, and nearing tears because I was so frustrated. Everyone wants to go out tomorrow night, get some drinks. I feel like when people start getting older and say "man, I'm too old for this". That's how I feel. Except I'm not too old for this!
My skin felt tight to bursting last night, so frustrated and hyper. We the People went to the G, I drank too much but not enough.