every day i get in the queue to get on the bus that takes me to you...
03.06.05 @ 11:18 p.m.
God fucking damn fucking bus strike. I'm all for unions and fair labor practices, which really means that I end up wracked with guilt for resenting the necessity of a strike.
Sympathy for my fellow man and all the morals of a strong union upbringing do not make it easier for me to get to school. Tomorrow I'm going to experiment with the shuttle service offered by by the hospital a few blocks from the university. For that, though, I need to get up super early so I can get back here at least in time to walk to school or something. (Why why why did I let my dad take my bike away? I can get by until next week and maybe con him into bringing it down during the Albany shows.)
No matter what, though, I'm pretty screwed as far as getting around goes. Damn lucky Ryan living on campus. Almost makes me wish I had accepted the soul sucking proximity to the frats and the ridiculously tiny studio apartment within view of the Knight Library. But no. I had to opt for space and pleasure in lovely South Eugene, at least a half hour (more like 40 minutes or more, I'm sure) walk from campus. Uphill, too. Of course, everyone will be riding their bikes, so there'll be no bike parking, unless I can find an obscure bike rack.
NO BIKE. MOOT POINT.
Other things:
Sometimes I play human guinea pig and try out products in a sense of whimsy and also curiosity as to why some people take some options over others. So, basically, I bought a can of Veet, wondering if chemical hair removal is somehow superior to shaving.
In my experience, no. I got better results shaving, without the risk of OMGWTF CHEMICAL BURN being a risk. I really don't know why I waste my time.
Similarly, I think this whenever I cut myself shaving: Who is the bigger fool, Skintimate for marketing a citrus shaving cream or me for buying it?
I have heard before the comment on how silly it is for grocery bags on TV or in illustrations to always have a baguette sticking out the top, since that never happens. well today, I bore out that cliche in order to have exactly the kind of bread I wanted for the FANTASTIC french dip sandwiches I had for dinner. I'm seriously considering going back to the grocery store in the next couple of days for another half-pound of roast beef. I <3 specialty breads. I also bought a surprisingly delicious organic fancy-pants spinach pizza on Friday. I am loving the hippie grocery store more and more with each passing day.
Wish me luck with that whole shuttle thing, I guess. And all my finals, of course. I got very little done this weekend apart from a little bit of Thomas More research. Eurgh. I can't make myself not be a last-minuter even when I try.
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
