cimorene

i either missed class this morning or skipped it. it's hard to tell which, because while most of the morning i was determinedly slogging through getting ready and putting up with the likes of Don't-Feed-Me-It's-Too-Early!Stomach, in the forty seconds or so before i fell back asleep i was thinking, 'what the fuck, i'm just going back to bed. no, i'm not, i promised myself i wouldn't skip, and it's early. i'm going. but can i get up? mmmmmmmh, bed good. no, i'll just stand up without closing my zzz.'

must email prof. with an abject apology, but class isn't even out yet. and starting next week i'm going to bed on rutting time. it's simply the only solution. i'll start with nine hours and if that doesn't do it upgrade to ten and a half. (in 90-min blocks only of course.) and i'll set my alarm for ten min over the goal to give my internal clock time to do it itself (which is far less painful).

daddy loves me so much that he sent in the mail not only his very own copy of eats, shoots and leaves; but also the aquarium-esque page up!(r) brand page-holdery-thing-for-typing with a clownfish in it (i raved about it to both parents. GAY FISH SEX dude. anything with clownfish makes me think nemo/gill... mmmmh nemo gill x.x).

have downloaded "quizás, quizás, quizás" (as heard in la mala educación, but in this instance not sung by our friendly neighborhood pocket venus gael) as well as the whole soundtrack of dirty dancing: havana nights. i have an incredibly fast t3 now, so if you have music to share or want a piece o dat, hit me up on aim, cimmmajesty. if i don't have your sn (ie if i don't appear online to you) hit me up via comment and i'll add you to the buddy list.