filling in the blanks
05.02.04 @ 9:29 p.m.
I guess I should follow up on a couple of things.
My final Folklore paper: I've been juggling Mod vs. Dog show to the point where I didn't actually write the proposal that was due on Wednesday. I talked to the professor and he can see how I would have a hard time coming up with a relevant focus for the paper AND sources. Oh, how sorely tempted I am to write Mods as an oppositional subculture, focusing on how their music was oppositional to youth culture. (They eschewed Merseybeat in favor of American R&B and British groups assimilating R&B and blues.) There are bound to be a lot of books and such on it.
I just sent an email to Danae asking if she is interested (or knows people who might be interested) in living here next year, as I have to find one (preferably two) people to live in this house or find an apartment and fall into a horrible chasm of social hermatage.
Fucking hell.
I think that's probably what has me stressed to the point of eyelid twitches. I hate them so much.
I think this weekend was a nice little bit of release for that, even if hosting guests is a touch of stress in itself. Amy came over yesterday in the early afternoon. Earlier, I had been in the shower when someone, probably a petition gatherer, rung the doorbell. I thought it was Amy arriving way early, and so I got out of the shower all soapy. By the time I got wrapped in a towel and was able to look down the hall and through the screen door, they were gone. Aagh. Sucks to be home alone. Anyway, I was playing Discworld MUD (bad things, that sucked away so much of my life one summer to produce my kick-ass thief character) when she showed up and nearly gave me a heart attack when she just suddenly yelled "HEY!" to annouce her presence. I jumped and said "JESUS!" which she thought was funny. Blasphemy makes for nice profanity. I'm fond of "Jesus fuck!" (Apologies for offence caused, but it's the rebellious ex-Catholic in me. We're fucked up, us ex-Catholics. Hopefully I'm less warped by my 17 years of forced church attendence than most.) We intended to go see Mean Girls but I assumed Amy checked the show times, which she didn't. So we didn't, because there were no convenient times. We wandered Gateway Mall until just after four, called Moni, and went to meet her at her apartment.
Then we all went to the other mall. So stereotypically girl. But we had to go to Hot Topic to buy the bottle of blue dye and I was hell bent on Cinnabon. Hurr. I feel so fat right now that it's ten and I haven't eaten dinner yet, nor am I inclined. (I ate lunch after four and then a bunch of chocolates.) Since Amy's birthday was the day before yesterday, we decided to take her out to dinner, by which I mean we got takeout from the Olive Garden. I didn't even know you could GET takeout from the Olive Garden. We split two meals between the three of us at my house.
So hippy-Eugenean, we sat out on my front lawn, which is on a busy street, to bleach my hair. By the time I washed the bleach out, it was getting dark, so we put the blue in in the living room. I made Moni and Amy watch My Hero, a really absurdly bad British sitcom that I love for Ardal O'Hanlon. They were probably confused by it. I had to explain the whole "Alien superhero" and "alien superhero baby" thing. I feel slightly bad about that, because they were probably bored.
Amy stayed the night, and we watched SNL together. She left this morning.
I'm watching the cheesy NBC-TV movie 10.5, which is spurring my natural paranoia a little. I know that there's "supposed to be" a 9+ earthquake in the PacNW in the next 20 years, which scares me as I am not inclined to leave Oregon. It just now occured to me that I should somehow include that in "Traveler" since it takes place mostly in the post-apocalyptic PacNW. I suppose that could explain why I've had the NW be more wild, a place where a violent tribe like the early villains couls settle, because the cities were destroyed by the quake sometime after the somewhat absurd Plague plot I wrote.
Puppy tails are falling off, I'm told, though Mom says they never found the first one and (ew) suspect my dog ate it. I wanted to go home next weekend, but my mom suspects it wouldn't be good since my dad will be gone. She said the week after, but Dad said that's the Grants Pass weekend he'd like me to go on. Choices! Anyway. Our conversation was cut short by the Simpsons coming on.
Erf, I feel sick. Too much bad-for-me food. Earthquake movie and short Italian composition, here I come.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
