young (wo)man blues
05.14.05 @ 8:56 p.m.
I am basically feeling mildly bad most of the time. I'm not quite sure why. There have also been days of being damn happy, but I guess that I've felt like crap this weekend and so I'm operating from this "the world sucks" viewpoint.
My eyes hurt. I think to some degree it's the computer's fault; I spent a lot of time playing Escape Velocity yesterday. For the first time ever, I am getting kick ass missions, though I'm too cowardly to carry out assassinations like the Rebellion would have me do. But the other half is trying to get so much reading done in a small amount of time. I finally finished Raymond Chandler's The Long Goodbye and cannot figure out why a 370 page novel could take SO DAMN LONG to read. I really liked it, but it went puzzlingly slow. And I spent a bunch of time trying to figure out how Marlowe knew who Paul Marsten really was for a long time until I remembered that it had been mentioned early on. And it's frustrating to know that Boren seems to want us to remember characters and names carrying over between books. Not easy. And Linda Loring at the end of TLG: What the fuck, Linda Loring. Why would anyone act like that? It makes no sense. But then, Chandler is utterly terrible at love scenes.
I saw Glenn again on Thursday, which was nice in a bizarre way. I quite like Glenn, and I didn't realize he was so likeable in high school. I think I wrote him off as "jock, boyfriend of Krista, not too bad." I just never thought about him, but he's a cool guy. He, too, is staying for summer, and seems more excited about it than I. Mostly I'm ridiculously anxious about my one week super-duper intense course.
Who wouldn't be anxious about this: 8:30am - 4:20pm MUWHF Jun 13, 2005 - Jun 17, 2005? Four credits in five days. And all damn day, too. It's FLR 410 Magic, Myth & Religion. The Kesey class sounds pretty neat, too, but I will have to buy a new copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, because I need some kind of critical edition. My scruffy little paperback copy with Jack Nicholson will not do.
And ooh, I'll finally have a class in Fenton hall. I've never even been INSIDE Fenton hall, and that's where I'll be in my LAST TERM EVER at U of O, unless I get a Master's here or something. Or heaven help me, a Ph. D. I haven't decided how far I want to go with school, really. Or what I want to continue to do.
I'm a bit sad about school ending, and a bit sad about moving home, though I have to say that a very small part of my objections are remedied by my parents putting in a new shower head. It's the toilet that is fucked up beyond remedy. And the sewer/septic needs to be redug. It's all a big mess. My dad has bought a riding lawn mower which he insists on calling a tractor and which he hopes will help keep the blackberries at bay. Before that, he's going to hire some people with some kind of insane large piece of machinery.
There is shouting outside, of the "WOOO" variety. It is unexpected, I don't normally hear that around here, but it isn't normally a bit sultry out. I've lived here since December and the weather has been unreliable. It's still unreliable.
And now I am suffering, but in a stupid, unimportant sort of way. I have an exam for Detective fiction which requires my reading The Big Sleep and Farewell, My Lovely in quick order. I will be putting an hour and a half into TBS when "My Hero" (a terrible Britcom which I love because of Ardal O'Hanlan) is over, and then I will return for Will Ferrell on SNL. I've kind of... stopped watching that in favor of "Mystery!". I just don't feel great about anything. Bored, restless.
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
