| 28 September 2002 |
| [Shoot me now.] |
| On my way home from running some miscellaneous errands this afternoon, I found my self in traffic behind a jeep with two very college-type girls in the front seats and one one guy in the back. While blasting some Spice Girls *hit* (I -am- ashamed that I know the song was, indeed, from the now extinct group of former british strippers), the two uppity girls sang along, bobbing their heads to the beat, their sloppy pony tails shaking all around. I wonder what the guy in the back seat was thinking. And I also wonder if everyone from Findley College (that being the place of post-secondary education represented via back-window sticker) is just that idiotic. |
| 26 September 2002 |
| [Phone Rings to Bleed My Ears] |
| I'm so thrilled that Sheryl Crowe's voice felt it was neccessary to wake me from my nap via ringing telephone and automated message to remind me to vote, as I am a "young person," and "young people" tend not to vote. |
| 25 September 2002 |
| [Twelve-Hour Medication: Yeah Right] |
| Being a poor, stressed, cranky graduate student has
finally paid off. For the first time ever, I have received nothing
but respect in an academic environment where I'm in charge. All those
times I thought about backing down by getting a teaching certificate
and being miserable in a high school classroom are in the past. I
actually think I'm happy. In other news, I think I'm allergic to my apartment. My sinuses were doing okay until I came home. A couple shots of NyQuil are in my future. |
| 24 September 2002 |
| [Launder my Karma] |
| Armed with a box of generic prescription strength chlorpeniramine maleate, I will not let this year's pollen and ragweed ruin my fall. |
| 19 September 2002 |
| [I Like Traffic Lights] |
| I was cruisin' Jim Cissell's Website to see what kind of trouble acquaintances of mine have gotten into. And I found out that an ex (not really an ex, more of a person I, well, you know)was convicted for sexual assault a few years before we hooked up. I think I'm going to be ill. |
| 15 September 2002 |
| [Is that burning flesh I smell?] |
| I just noticed that I have a cigarette burn on the right side of my forehead, on my hairline. Why, exactly, I didn't notice it earlier, I don't know . . . I couldn't have been that wasted. To quote my friend Mike, as he makes a toast to his dead friend: Eric, my body might be here on Earth, but my liver's in heaven with you. |
| 14 September 2002 |
| [Holy Shit!] |
| Fragx is back! |
| 13 September 2002 |
| [Jane Says, I'm Done with Sergio] |
| My pal Joe swears by reading in the bathtub, claiming
it's the only place he can really read -- where he's not bothered
by the world and its distractions. I've tried this several times,
this reading while partially submerged in a hot bath. It does not
work! I took some "light reading" into the bathtub, thinking I could
handle that. I have several books I need to get through this weekend
so that I can make up my courses syllabi for the three classes I'm
teaching this fall. And I thought the bathtub approach would work.
Nope. I emerged half an hour after entering the bath. Pruned fingers and toes. Smeared eyeliner. I smell good, but my books are still sitting on the tiled floor, a mechanical pencil resting besides them. Oh well, I think I'm going to pack up and head to a coffee shop or something -- get good and caffeinated and plow through these texts. |
| 12 September 2002 |
| [ich ich] |
| Clowns to the left of me. Jokers to the right. Here I am, stuck in the middle with you. |
| 12 September 2002 |
| [If I've killed one man, I've killed two] |
| I hurried to Express Payroll Advance after work today, because a check deposited in my account bounced and I didn't have enough to cover my rent -- which has yet to clear. Why Larry hasn't deposited my September rent is beyond me. So, I'm off to collect my mother fucking cash, Compton style. |
| 11 September 2002 |
| [Clear vowels rise like balloons] |
| Clowns to the left of me. Jokers to the right. Here I am, stuck in the middle with you. |
| 11 September 2002 |
| [A man in black with a Meinkampf look] |
| And a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I
do, I do. I am so ready for some Conan O'Brien after today. Jeesh. |
| 10 September 2002 |
| [The Well Wrought Urn Rots] |
| The head of UC's English composition department on
main campus called me. She's interested in hiring me. Oh, how I wish
I received that phone call two weeks ago, before I made a commitment
to UC's Blue Ash Campus. Shit, there's nothing I can do about it now.
In other news, I have officially decided to put off my exam -- November is looking a bit too complicated as it is. Martha Stewart is an alien. An alien from one of those bad planets -- not where I'm from. Duh. And Dilbert is detoxing quite nicely, though I fear that the penguin wont drop the charges against him. |
| 06 September 2002 |
| [I took this from the Billy Graham website . . .] |
| "God ordained marriage to be a "threesome"--God, you, and your life partner." Do you think Mr. Graham has any idea of what a "threesome" is in the real world? |
| 05 September 2002 |
| [Into My Pretty Web] |
| While a second load of laundry spun like mad in the
wash, I opened the dryer filled with a load of whites -- mostly socks
and tank-tops -- to find that the dryer's heat was on vacation or
strike or something. I emptied the cool dryer of t-shirts -- they
could be hung in the bathroom -- but left the socks to tumble in the
no-heat setting along with the second load of darks. The no-heat setting
was useless, and rather than waste yet another dollar to spin my clothes
for an another hour, I started to hang everything -- panties, socks,
pants, towels -- in my bathroom. But before resorting to hanging underwear
in the kitchen and living-room (I could just imagine my cats having
a field day, watching my socks hang precariously from the television
antennae), I got everything together -- all three loads -- and threw
them in my laundry bag. Tom and I drove to the "Laundry and Tanning"
on Jefferson. Twenty minutes and twenty-five cents later -- thanks
to the ultra high heat setting on the jumbo dryers -- all three loads
of laundry were hot, dry, and crispy. Sure, my jeans are a bit too
tight today, feeling more like a size two than a size four . . . In other, perhaps more interesting news, I *do* have a job this fall. I'll be teaching three classes. I won't be making as much money as I did last year at the high school, but, then again, I'll only be working three days a week. I'll find a few web design jobs to make some extra cash -- after all, I'll have the extra time. |
| 03 September 2002 |
| [The Charm Dissolves Apace] |
| I received my shirt from T-shirt Hell today; it needs
to be thrown in a hot wash and dry cycle. It's a bit too big. My order from Barnes & Nobles is on its way. I downloaded some criticism on Beckett and Spenser, and I still need to get my hands on a copy of the Arnold poem. Buying it is out the question. BN.com and Amazon are selling it for ninety-eight bucks. Screw out of print literature. I want nothing of it and its desire to suck my wallets dry. In other news, I need to read over the English Composition Curriculum Guide before my interview Thursday. My goal is to wake up at a reasonable morning hour tomorrow -- to prep myself for my morning meeting with the English Department Chair. Reverting to a normal sleep schedule will be a necessary evil. I think next week will be my last week at my summer job. I need time to prep for the Fall quarter and to study for my MA Exam. Today, I started to have doubts about taking the exam this November, and considered waiting until April. But I can't put it off. It needs to be done and over with. |
| 02 September 2002 |
| [Oh Crap] |
| I just lost an entire post. But it's probably for the better. I was rambling on about how bummed I am by people getting married and how I just want a semi-stable life. |
| 02 September 2002 |
| [Postmaster: Please Deliver by August 20, 2002] |
| Again, I craved an icy treat, and decided to brave
the Sunday-night Corryville madness, the BP on Jefferson and Corry
being the only place nearby this time of night to get a Slush Puppie.
Though my convo with "anonymous" made me drool at the thought of the
awfully tasty Misty slushes at the Dairy Queen on Vine in St. Bernard,
I settled for the red Slush Puppie, which, as I type this, is doing
it's job in spiking my blood sugar and painting my tongue. I typically loathe Sundays. Night can't come fast enough. There's something unsettling about Sunday daylight; I can't pinpoint what it is. Today was alright, however. I talked with a former co-worker via the phone and msn messenger, and even chatted a bit with a former student, who started college this year. I'm tickled at the mere thought of no work tomorrow, but bothered by the fact that I have a job interview thursday at a college that wants me (the feeling isn't all that mutual). I haven't heard from my first choice campuses of potential fall employment. And I don't want to accept a position, only to get a phone message the next day from one of the other English departments concerning fall work. If I do accept the job (most likely) offered to me thursday, getting a new car will be necessary. My current vehicle won't be up for the commute. To do this week: Go car hunting; Go grocery shopping (purchase butter); Do laundry; Read Emerson. |