a little fed up...

-I have to write a response paper, but the prof didn't explicate which set of readings I'm supposed to respond to.
-I agree with the spirit but not the letter of the articles I'm currently reading. The changes in thinking modalities the authors are arguing for do not seem substantially different from present modalities to warrant a paradigm shift. Therefore I am having a hard time caring about the concepts proposed in these papers.
-I am afraid that this makes me jaded and a bad person.
-I am hungry.
-I am breaking out in really nasty acne.
-I feel a little lost.

Notes from my Little Black Book.

...So, I'm one of Those People who carry around a mini-Molskine journal and constantly jot in it. Mostly I make lists, but it also where I make note of random encounters with the world and gem-like thoughts. It matters not to me that my gems are more like rhinestones and less like diamonds; I'm going to save them for posterity anyway. And now I'm going to share them with you.

Awesome things seen on or around campus during 1st "week" of school:
-dude riding to class on unicycle.
-dudes flying a plastic Sesame Street kite on The Hill.
-stocky, bearded dude wearing actual revolutionary war-style tricorn hat made out of actual leather, walking down street.

Don't make me choke on my own snark:
- young undergrad dude walking past me, talking on cell phone ON TUESDAY: "... yeah, it's been a long week... thank god we've got a friday coming up soon..."

First World Problem of The Week:
I bought a (semi-costly) new refill for my (fancy, imported from Germany) refillable ball-point pen. The ink in the refill doesn't flow AT ALL. I realize that in the grand scheme of all social injustice everywhere, this is meaningless, but it's an important problem. to me. right now.

Best Conversation Ever:
Me: mmmmm... garlic and bacon sauteed together... it's too bad I missed the bacon train on liking bacon.
Him: huh?
Me: remember? The New Yorker said that bacon isn't the cool food to like any more.
Him: Oh yeah. Bacon totally sucks. Wonder what the next cool food to like is going to be?
Me: I dunno.
Him: Me either.
Me: Maybe little hamburgers?
Him: heh. sliders. yeah, they're kind of everywhere these days.
Me: I'm anti-little hamburger.
Him: ... well, I'm not pro-them.
Me: ... I mean, I wouldn't shiv one if I met it in the dark or anything... I just think they're dumb.
Him: I might eat one.

Also, I didn't hear what Kanye West did to make the world think that he is a dumbass, or to make President Obama say that he (Kanye West, not Obama) is an asshole, but I'm mad at him (Kanye West, not Obama) anyway, because I'm sick of being exposed to the media fallout about How Kanye West may or may not be a dumbass or an asshole.

The Morning After...

It's not that I'm having regret about my decision, exactly, it's more that I don't really know what to do with myself and can feel the depression and inertia gnawing at the cracks of my being. So I slept in until 9, picked a passive-aggressive fight with J about how he has The Disgusting Sniffles And Is Not Taking Care Of Them And Now I Am Getting Sick And It's His Fault because I am really just that kind of winner (read: terrible) person and spouse. It's true though, that after only 2 contact days with the kiddoes I've got a hoarse throat and sinus issues and I am not pleased. Time to break out the Neti Pot and the Airborne. And to stop picking on J for not liking to take medicine for his allergies, I begrudgingly concede, but in all honesty, is there any sound less sonorous and soothing than the ssnnnoourrrrrwwaaakkk!!!!! snorking of snot from the sinuses to the glottal chamber of the upper esophagus? ew.

Also, the milk I poured into my coffee this morning curdled, and the heel end of the loaf of home-made bread is nasty and stale.

The energy that filled me as I made this decision was fire; scary and freeing, like skydiving (which I know I still have to write about), like getting on the night train to travel solo to Prague when you are 20 and don't know a single word of Czech. That energy is sapped now. I seem to have used up my quota of brave. Can I borrow some of yours?

Or will you at least come and sit with me and hold my hand while I figure out who I am behind the looking glass?