Day 21

this is long overdue

Hey. Can't tell how confused I was to get about six e-mails from Ben just now. Till I realized that I had forwarded them from your room. I think I owe you something like 16 e-mails, but that's a ludicrous number, so I'll ignore it. Hey, you're gonna just die when you hear this one. I haven't done my papers yet. That's right, neither one of them. Reason? I'd like to blame it on the rain, but Milli Vanilli already did that. I'd also like to say it's because they are both asinine and pointless, but I think that can be applied to almost anything we do here, so it's overdone. Maybe the fact that I spent 28 hours in bed by Sunday made it harder, I'm not sure. Actually, Sat. night I thought I had the flu and went to bed early. Sun. morning I asked Naomi if she thought I had mono. She just looked at me and said that if I didn't have any work and I was still tired, then maybe she'd buy the mono thing, but as it was... I agree. She's wise, that one. Anyway, my English teacher seems not to care. Makes a hell of a lot easier for me not to care, too, except I've been living the past five days or so in a purgatory made for procrastinators, where I spend half my time sleeping and the other half is divided between eating cookies and convincing myself that it's OK not to do my papers. It's not OK. I feel so shitty I could die. But I stared at my computer for 10 hours yesterday and could not even begin to formulate any ideas on either paper topic. That is ridiculous. Thinking about is making me hyperventillate. I'm feeling flushed, I have to breathe, hold on.... OK. A little better. My mom told me to take vitamins. I thought that was silly, but what the hell? I took one. This giant yellow horsepill -- one of the ones my Mom sent me in a sandwich bag at the beginning of the year. So far, nothing to report.

It cost 56,500 units of Icelandic cash for two people to sail roundtrip from Iceland to Norway in the summer. Unless Icelandic monetary units are 1,000 per US $, that's not a happening deal. Oh well. Faroe Islands -- will you wait for me?

"Could it be that there is no word tender enough to be your name?" Or a nearby equivalent. That is James Joyce, from THE DEAD. I thought it was exquisite. I might have stopped breathing while mister doodyhead read it aloud on the lawn of the maingreen. I at least forgot for one measly second that I was sitting next to bead-boy. He's a trite little fop, but really, I must stop pinning all my woes on him. He might break. And toys are only fun until they're broken. Besides, it's the whole class that irks me, not just him. Even the professor, the afore-mentioned doodyhead, is a contributer to the overall conspiracy to make me hate my concentration. (An aside: Do you know that he has worn the same pair of corduroy pants every single day since class began?) Although, and I find this extremely fascinating, I do feel the need to earn this guy's respect. Maybe it has something to do with not having any stiff competition, you know, I want to be validated because if I'm not, I must really be bad? That's why it bothers me so much when he looks at me like I'm regurgitating raw spinach whenever I ask him questions. Maybe that's why I don't do his papers on time. Ah shit, there I go again with that flawed logic.

Anyway, I'm a veritable bore to be with of late. I'm preocupied and lazy and self-absorbed and irritable. I'm also retaining water. Have you ever tried to sit for an extended period of time in jeans that are already too tight for you when you are holding 2-5 lbs. of water in your abdominal tissues? Probably not. I can't help but think it's not good for me, considering I may want to have children some day. The guy next to me has one of those huge disk holders and about 30 disks in it which he keeps switching around. I find that odd. But who am I to judge? I'm wearing argyle socks with holes in them. I would love to see you tonight, provided we meet at a public setting and don't leave it. Otherwise, temptation is too strong. Maybe coffee? Call me or something. Then, I will give you ample opportunity to talk, because I want to hear about you. Did you have a test today? Was it in Sayles? I looked for you as I peered around the room where all the little science bodies were huddling in these pointy, crippling rows. It looked agonizing. But, of course, maybe it wasn't you. I also saw Ben. More than once. He's a darling. We're getting married on Tues. Please try and come, it would mean so much to him. I cut my hair. It's too short. I look like a twelve year old. I also severely injured myself while I was snipping away. I made a cut in my forefinger and cut away two sides of a perfect little flesh triangle, right in the bend of the finger. I showed it to Naomi, and she said it looked like a little mouth that was saying hello to her and she hoped I wouldn't start feeding it at the Ratty. I said I wouldn't.

These papers are still so ridiculously looming. I can't seem to get started. It is 7:40 right now, so hopefully by midnight I can have one done. Hah! As if. Have you filed your concentration forms? I picked mine up. I don't want to come back here next year. But I might end up doing that. Do you want to both take a year off and leave together for Australia? We could rent a house or an apartment or something and bake in the sun till we got skin cancer and had to come home. We could have a hammock.

I'm doing nothing Spring Weekend but cursing the Natty Light guzzlers all around me. As soon as I pull all their eyeballs out with a toothpick, I'm all yours.

"There once was a nice little sausage named Balric. And he lived happily ever after."

If only it were that simple, Sebastian! But I think someone made me a veggie burger, and do you know how hard it is to go through life as a veggie burger? Our chances for living happily ever after aren't nearly as high.