reprimander
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7:21p |
So Right
So, here we are again. The clouds are low tonight over stately Gonzo Manor, which needs a bad mowing, and there isn't much of a view that some serious medication could take clear up.
A decision has been made. As you should all know by now, I'm going to major in English and Literary Theory when I go on for my B.A. My minor was going to Computer Science. I figured that since I like technology so much, this would be a good route for me. I might even learn how to code, but then a very grim, meathook reality set in; the idea of being possibly stuck in a cube farm, with occasional prairie dogging for exercise, REALLY turned me off. I think Art as my minor is a better choice for me.
In school news, something very odd happened. No, no women have shown an interest, though I'm interested in that Krista in my Human Biology class. This was something academic. Yesterday, in my math class, I scored a 94.4 on my test. I almost had an orgasm, but given how my professor is British, I didn't think she'd go for it. I also have to school on Sunday. That's right. FUCKING Sunday. The Regional College Fair will be from 12-3, and I have to get there to talk to reps from Rider University, and Trenton State. Yes, I know it's the College of New Jeresey (sic,) but I'm SO used to calling it Trenton State, it's now habit. What a hassle this is for me, and God knows whoever else. People attend that school that live in Wantage, and even New York state and Pennsylvania. I'm also wondering about my space at MySpace. Colleges look at that, but I don't think they'll find me. I hope not, anyway.
Last Saturday saw me in Lambertville and New Hope again. This time it was for the New Hope Arts Festival. That rain cast a serious gloom over everything, but I did get to see some REALLY nice work. I had a nice lunch at Lulu's on North Main Street, and my copy of the original "Velveteen Rabbit" came in. Butter the cat came to see me. I gave him treats, and he was so happy that he drooled and meowed for me. I stood up, and in the corner was a boxed set that I've been craving; the Lenny Bruce boxed set. I asked how much it was, and then had to change my underwear. With tax, it came nine dollars and change. I parked over on the Lambertville side, and wandered into a gallery that had the most beautiful art I have ever seen in Lambertville. This place is the Colette Sexton Gallery, and her work is, easily, the most beautiful in all of Lambertville. The realism and value in her work is stunning, and she perfectly captures the air of the area. I was even lucky enough to meet her, and talk with her. Again, I was ashamed to hang anything else on my walls. I walked back up to where the car was, on Delaware and North Union, and fell in love with the neighborhood. It's a very historic area with the houses, many now converted to apartments, dating back to the 1700s. It was so beautifully quiet there that I think my decision has been made to where I will move.
In the Biblio File, I'm currently reading Hunter S. Thompson's "The Proud Highway," my 49th for the year. On Sunday, I was dragged kicking and screaming to another book sa;e. It was bad. I walked out of there with two shopping bags full.
Correction: Obama didn't take that money from Lehman Brothers. It was Frannie May, and it's amazing how the Dems are blaming Bush when the Repubs have been warning them since '99 that this would happen. If anyone is to blame, go talk to Barney Frank, Dem, head of the House Financial Services Committee. Ron Paul said that everyone in America should get 454,000.00, or so I heard on the news today. If he did his math, he'd see that this socialistic 700,000,000,000 bailout plan works out to be closer to be 3,500.00 per person, but I'll still take it. Still, I wonder where the funding for this bailout will come from. Obama, who now has children singing his praises much Chairman Mao used to, is oddly silent, other than attacking McCain, and he has better stop attacking McCain, too. McCain might throw a full Depends at him. As long as I'm getting political here, some young, stupid 20 something, obviously the voice of his generation as so many of them think they are, had to get in a shot at Palin...in my Human Biology class. I raised my hand and asked if I was in the right class, and that I thought that poly sci was down the hall. This kid insisted on calling her "...retarded," yet, had no way to back this up. To be fair, that shit she did by leaving her work stuff on a Yahoo account should get her some medication. Who the hell... Anyway, I answered the kid by saying "Says the guy who will vote for someone who will campaign in all 57 states." I guess he knew of the gaffe, as did the class. I got a nice round of laughter out of that one, and went back to my note taking.
The war has been won! Yes! I have won the war with my evil neighbor, John. He died two weeks ago. I'm not kidding. He croaked in St. Claire's, and it seems like it was complications from diabetes. You know, in a weird way, I'm going to miss him. He was fixture for so many years here. I always knew where he was, and when it was sundown in the summer because I could hear him and his wife, Miriam, out on the deck complaining about how loud MY air conditioner is. For all those years he was there, like a pus-oozing sore, and now he, too, has grown small in my life's rearview mirror. I was walking out to Lot 9 today thinking about this, noticing how there are more and more splashes of color filling in on the trees, and I had the realization that this be the last time I ever get to see that. My campus is so nice to see at this time of year, and I'm making it a point to just look and remember as much as I can. I can't go home again, and I'm trying to get in as many photos as I can.
I've been very melancholy of late. The Family is spreading out, and some of us have been in a very dark place mentally. We've been suffering depression, and this shouldn't be. I love the Family dearly, and when they hurt, I hurt. We shouldn't have to go through this, but at least we're going through it together. So, for them, them in the winter of their discontent, them who look into the long nights that lay ahead, I will end this journal with a quote in the hope that I will get to see you all again, and we will all celebrate the fact that we're all still here, packets in one row, and heading to where we should be.
"So we shall let the reader answer this question for himself: Who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived, or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed?" - Hunter S. Thompson
P.S. Can anyone spot me on Friday night?
P.P.S. Does anyone have 65.00?
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