stress, stress, stress. to which i'm always vulnerable early in the morning, i suppose.

i realized that i'm not even absolutely certain what this quiz is on. and i didn't sleep at all well. i'm tempted to ask the professor if i can make up the quiz later, but she'll be pissed if i don't go to class. and it really is my own fault with the essay, even if i didn't realize in advance that i was going to render myself incapable of going to class.

i can't seem to hold my eyes open. and i have a LOT of reading to do for linguistics...

o with a little cross in it isn't really the same as o, is it?

Which LOTR Woman are you?

and i have kickass hair, too. but don't think this makes me happy, oh no.

(no subject)

got email fwd from cousin about how the world is going to hell because we told god to back out of schools and he did. just to oblige us, no doubt. *bangs head on desk* please allow me to respect my cousins again tomorrow?

edit, 8:20 am: have just rediscovered that it doesn't really matter. yay, off to happily fail greek quiz. and if the professor is annoyed... oh well. i have too high an opinion of myself to doubt whether i made the right decision by not studying. (and maybe that's a bad thing, but. oh well.)

...

the professor was good and sympathetic, but i took the quiz. predict a c. we discussed the advantages of writing essays while drunk. she advocated wine for gothics in general, but agreed with me that tea is preferable for brontë. maybe will try wine for dracula. problem being lack of wine and lack of experience being drunk. i hear hangovers don't run in the family, but my bribri is a v/ silly drunk. i have a few errands to run today and a test at one. must eat lunch early, i s'pose, right after i read 150 pp (read=skim) of the woman in white, which is actually v/ entertaining.

summer clothing

there are an astonishing wealth of persons dressed in an astonishing variety of astonishingly unflattering clothing. i think summer is just the season of ugliness, apparently. don't they have eyes? i notice shoes the most--there's no variety of shoe so much given to being ugly and awkward as sandals. but then, there are ridiculously bad shirts, utterly off-putting skirts and shorts, and the most bizarre belts imaginable. and in the strangest combinations. i wish i could reconstruct their thought processes while dressing. "mustard yellow must go with everything, because it's really just dark khaki, and blue is always a good color, no matter the bizarreness of the print or the silliness of the cut. and i think i'll top all of this off with... a silver chain-link belt!" we're not even going into the shoes in that instance. i spend way too much time wincing in warm weather.

(no subject)

ohmigod. it's SO HOT. i'm going to wilt when i go home to alabama, i swear. it's the eighties, and i'm prostrate. of course--here, unlike in the civilized world, there's a marked lack of airconditioning.

classes done for the day. professors ingratiated one and all.

went to drugstore and they were out of razor refills--wtf? am a slave to consumer culture; bought another razor AND refills for it.

went to college bookstore. were out of white tshirts in kids' sizes; it was between gray and purple. i got purple. yay me.

(no subject)

light which seeps from me while you're sleeping says:
yeah, it's my fault he is now obsessed with me
el beso que inventas cada día says:
oh he is? what did you do?
light which seeps from me while you're sleeping says:
gave him a blow job
light which seeps from me while you're sleeping says:
and stuff
el beso que inventas cada día says:
i just have this image...
boy: but you're so good at blowjobs!
kk: uh... thanks, well...
boy: don't you loooove me?
light which seeps from me while you're sleeping says:
yeah yeah that's exactly it!
el beso que inventas cada día says:
kk: how shall i say this.
boy: while you're thinking about it, could i have another blowjob?
kk: uhm, see, the thing is.
boy: if you do, maybe i won't bug you about whether you love me. you have pretty eyes. maybe, if i'm not getting a blowjob, i could write you poetry.
kk: blowjob it is!