wut.

May. 27th, 2010 09:20 pm
nirix5: (sephiroth- get the party started)
It's been a long day. Got up at 6:30, went to the new apartment at 7:30 and started cleaning. The boys that were in there left the place a mess. The landlord is giving us $50 off the rent to move their old furniture out and clean, and another $100 off to paint, but that won't be for a little while.

I spent half an hour trying to clean the stove before I realized that I didn't need bleach and a sponge, I needed a de-greaser and a brillo pad. Then I came home, packed a bunch of books, loaded them into the truck, and went to work. Worked til seven, took the books to the apartment, unpacked them, and saved the boxes to pack more stuff.

Let me tell you, eljay, five boxes of books up three stories in eighty degree heat and humidity is making a kindle look REAL good.

Now I'm braindead and watching Cops.

Cause, you know, that's my poison of choice when I'm braindead.

*zonk*

.

Ugh.

Oct. 12th, 2005 09:02 am
nirix5: (smirk (sara))
I'm really fucking tired. Got up at 4:45 yesterday to catch the bus to work, where I hot glued boxes from 7 AM to 4:30 PM. As a result, I can barely move my hands or hold on to things. Christie and Quinn picked me up, and after a while and a game of Magic in which I got my ass beat severe, we went over to Marcellus to get Quinn's stuff.

Six boxes, one giant TV, three people, and a lightsaber. In a Jetta. In the rain. I'm not entirely sure how we did it, but we did. It all went pretty smoothly, except when the giant box Christie and I were carrying bottomed out, dropping video games and Yugioh cards all over the parking lot.

Then we got food and watched some really bad hentai. Slave Doll is really kind of ridiculous, but it's really funny to watch. All this chick does is give blowjobs- there's no actual sex until the end, when she magically grows a penis and fucks another android-girl.

Well, yay for porn, at any rate. And lots of lovely warm blankets. And yay for Christie, who gets up earlier than she has to to get us to class on time. Lovely lovely Christie- I already promised to be her sex slave; I don't know what else I can do for her except to make her cookies or something.

Also got into a fight over whose property I am; Christie's or Quinn's. 'Twas very amusing and fun and Quinn showed everyone the biting thing he does that's beyond belief insane.

Homicide class was all cutting and stabbing wounds today.

I need to track down some food or I'm gonna die.
nirix5: (mere?)
OMG, though- Quinn gave me a present the other night, and I didn't stop squeeing until, like, just now, that is to say, page 457 of HP: Half Blood Prince.

Heart him to just little pieces. Not that I didn't before, but... you know. It's HBP, dude. Now I don't have to wait for 184 other people on the library wait list to finish it first. Thank you to Manda for planning to let me borrow it, though.

So, this weekend:

~ Hanging out with Daniel= cool
~ Manda's baby shower= cool
~ Quinn= squeeing= video games= Denny's= cool

~ Charlie and the Chocolate Factory= OMGWTFBBQ!?!?!?!? + startling revelations as to Quinn's demeanor + weird giggle laugh= holy shit. I am dating Willy Wonka. Just without the stupid haircut and flamboyant clothes (at this point, anyway.)

*headdesk*

Why does the guy I fall for have one of the strangest, most disturbing characters from one of my most hated movies as a father figure/role model?

'Tis quite creepy at times. Oh, if you want to see what I mean, go watch that movie with him. OMG.

*head* Why *desk* God *head* why *desk* do *head* I *desk* love *head* him *desk* so *head* damn *desk* much?

Cause you know, I really can't help myself. If God is laughing at me, then I'm going to track him down and smack him. They say that God is in everything. Even mailboxes and such. I think I'll go beat up a mailbox.


...

So Dad says that if I don't move out, he'll get me a car, pay for insurance/gas/blah blah, and buy me a building as a graduation present. Businesses on the first floor, apartments on the second, and My Very Own Loft on the top. Tempting, so very tempting, but probably unlikely.

I think I should hold out for three or four kimono from Ichiroya instead. With accessories. Muah ha ha.

Seriously, though, I don't know where I am with this whole apartment thing. This is the pits.

I should probably go get dressed and make my lunch now or something.

.
nirix5: (mere?)
OMG, though- Quinn gave me a present the other night, and I didn't stop squeeing until, like, just now, that is to say, page 457 of HP: Half Blood Prince.

Heart him to just little pieces. Not that I didn't before, but... you know. It's HBP, dude. Now I don't have to wait for 184 other people on the library wait list to finish it first. Thank you to Manda for planning to let me borrow it, though.

So, this weekend:

~ Hanging out with Daniel= cool
~ Manda's baby shower= cool
~ Quinn= squeeing= video games= Denny's= cool

~ Charlie and the Chocolate Factory= OMGWTFBBQ!?!?!?!? + startling revelations as to Quinn's demeanor + weird giggle laugh= holy shit. I am dating Willy Wonka. Just without the stupid haircut and flamboyant clothes (at this point, anyway.)

*headdesk*

Why does the guy I fall for have one of the strangest, most disturbing characters from one of my most hated movies as a father figure/role model?

'Tis quite creepy at times. Oh, if you want to see what I mean, go watch that movie with him. OMG.

*head* Why *desk* God *head* why *desk* do *head* I *desk* love *head* him *desk* so *head* damn *desk* much?

Cause you know, I really can't help myself. If God is laughing at me, then I'm going to track him down and smack him. They say that God is in everything. Even mailboxes and such. I think I'll go beat up a mailbox.


...

So Dad says that if I don't move out, he'll get me a car, pay for insurance/gas/blah blah, and buy me a building as a graduation present. Businesses on the first floor, apartments on the second, and My Very Own Loft on the top. Tempting, so very tempting, but probably unlikely.

I think I should hold out for three or four kimono from Ichiroya instead. With accessories. Muah ha ha.

Seriously, though, I don't know where I am with this whole apartment thing. This is the pits.

I should probably go get dressed and make my lunch now or something.

.
nirix5: (kick at the darkness until it bleeds day)
From Metaquotes (by way of [livejournal.com profile] misscam and [livejournal.com profile] tryell:

"Al Qaeda says: 'Britain is now burning with fear, terror and panic in its northern, southern, eastern, and western quarters.' Bitch, please. Osama, you live in a fucking cave. You're like an evil Batman or something. No wonder you have a thing for blowing up commuters, because you will never commute because you live in a cave. You see transport, and you are filled with rage, because you? Live in a cave. You could try forming a political wing to... oh, wait, you can't because YOU LIVE IN A CAVE. Twat.

The BBC paused news coverage to show *Eastenders*. That'd be the nationwide fear, terror and panic, then."


I love the British. And I am so a sucker for Eastenders, even though I usually have no idea what's going on and can't make out what they're saying half the time since the mics they use pick up background noise.

Also, yay for the British not being drama queens like Americans generally are. <3 London!

...

I am exhausted and very upset right now. Exhausted because I took two Benadryl and went to bed at midnight- wooooo six hours of sleep. Very upset because I tried to buy a pair of cargo pants online and the only size left that they have available is a 0.

Cargo pants are stupidly hard to locate when they're out of style. WTF, retailers? Why are you trying to torture me? Don't you know that my only pair of cargo pants has a huge rip in them?

...

I'm also very overwhelmed. Overwhelmed because there really isn't any way for me to move out, financially speaking... Technically, I could do rent no problem, but the more I think about it, the less the whole thing seems to work. Namely because even though I'll have a job to pay for stuff, I'm still taking an insane, full time course load- and this leaves for how many hours? And the jobs around here suck. Unless I can take out an extra loan or something, maybe. I have to save for Jeannette's wedding, too. Which wouldn't be too bad, except I have to save enough for four plane tickets, hotel, car rental, blah blah blah.

However, I can't stay here. That's not going to work at all. I am not going out of my mind like I have the past two semesters, with trying to stay on top of everything with a dementedly limited commuting schedule. I told Mom yesterday that if I'm going to stay here, I'm going to need a heavy mix of ritalin and zoloft just to stay sane and focused. Besides, I'll be gone all the time anyway.

I think I'm just exhausted by the thought of work and school and studying, all at the same time. Because that's all that I'm going to be doing. Working and studying. At home, all I do is commute and study. So it's really like trading off one evil for another, and that's fine. But throw in getting to Arizona on top of it all, and I'm a nervous wreck. A nervous wreck with no social life, lol.

I wish my brain would stop thinking and being generally pessimistic for like, two seconds. Cargo pants would help, but there are none, dammit.
nirix5: (kick at the darkness until it bleeds day)
From Metaquotes (by way of [livejournal.com profile] misscam and [livejournal.com profile] tryell:

"Al Qaeda says: 'Britain is now burning with fear, terror and panic in its northern, southern, eastern, and western quarters.' Bitch, please. Osama, you live in a fucking cave. You're like an evil Batman or something. No wonder you have a thing for blowing up commuters, because you will never commute because you live in a cave. You see transport, and you are filled with rage, because you? Live in a cave. You could try forming a political wing to... oh, wait, you can't because YOU LIVE IN A CAVE. Twat.

The BBC paused news coverage to show *Eastenders*. That'd be the nationwide fear, terror and panic, then."


I love the British. And I am so a sucker for Eastenders, even though I usually have no idea what's going on and can't make out what they're saying half the time since the mics they use pick up background noise.

Also, yay for the British not being drama queens like Americans generally are. <3 London!

...

I am exhausted and very upset right now. Exhausted because I took two Benadryl and went to bed at midnight- wooooo six hours of sleep. Very upset because I tried to buy a pair of cargo pants online and the only size left that they have available is a 0.

Cargo pants are stupidly hard to locate when they're out of style. WTF, retailers? Why are you trying to torture me? Don't you know that my only pair of cargo pants has a huge rip in them?

...

I'm also very overwhelmed. Overwhelmed because there really isn't any way for me to move out, financially speaking... Technically, I could do rent no problem, but the more I think about it, the less the whole thing seems to work. Namely because even though I'll have a job to pay for stuff, I'm still taking an insane, full time course load- and this leaves for how many hours? And the jobs around here suck. Unless I can take out an extra loan or something, maybe. I have to save for Jeannette's wedding, too. Which wouldn't be too bad, except I have to save enough for four plane tickets, hotel, car rental, blah blah blah.

However, I can't stay here. That's not going to work at all. I am not going out of my mind like I have the past two semesters, with trying to stay on top of everything with a dementedly limited commuting schedule. I told Mom yesterday that if I'm going to stay here, I'm going to need a heavy mix of ritalin and zoloft just to stay sane and focused. Besides, I'll be gone all the time anyway.

I think I'm just exhausted by the thought of work and school and studying, all at the same time. Because that's all that I'm going to be doing. Working and studying. At home, all I do is commute and study. So it's really like trading off one evil for another, and that's fine. But throw in getting to Arizona on top of it all, and I'm a nervous wreck. A nervous wreck with no social life, lol.

I wish my brain would stop thinking and being generally pessimistic for like, two seconds. Cargo pants would help, but there are none, dammit.
nirix5: (I've tried hard to mend my wicked ways)
It ended today with me and my father not speaking to each other. Again.

To recap: My cousin James calls me on Wednesday night. He tells me that he'll be here to pick me up the next day. After much discussion, we decide to take my sister with us, too. After he gets here on Thursday night, I drag him to go see War of the Worlds with Quinn and Olivier.

On Friday we drive down to Princeton, stopping in Pennsylvania for mass quantities of fireworks. MASS. QUANTITIES. OF. FIREWORKS. Holy hell, I have never seen so many explosive devices grouped together in one warehouse before. And none of you people give me condescending looks, either, because neither have you. This place was like half of Wegmans filled with fireworks, and there were more outside in eighteen-wheeler trucks lined up in the parking lot. James just about had a seizure, he was so excited.

Saturday was the day of James's 21st birthday party. I may have forgotten to mention this, but the entire point of this trip was to go to this party and get absolutely smashed. Observe a telephone conversation a week ago Friday:

James: I'm turning 21 next Saturday.
Me: I know. Awesome.
James: Come down and get drunk with me.
Me: Sounds like a plan.

Family Party:

The Big Thing/Great Experiment was James and Uncle Kevin deep frying a turkey in the backyard. Nana brought over a disposable video camera and most of the movie is of the turkey. The turkey being fried, the turkey being talked about, eaten, contemplated, looked at, whatever.

Everyone went in the pool. Lots of people went on the trampoline. There was cake and food in abundance, and it was great great great. Not suprisingly, James got lots of liquor for presents. He also got to set off a bunch of fireworks, which made him happy and wowed everyone else.

Big Kids Party:

James, Amanda, Laura, Dan, and I went over to Blair and Julia's apartment. We got fucked up. There were maragritas. There were kittens. There were other things. Dan, Amanda, James and I sat in an empty room, watching the moon set as we killed a bottle of wine. I remember thinking at the time that the whole scene was very Rumi. That's the only thing I remember thinking, except for something obscure that had to do with my sociology professor.

Then we went to a diner. I don't remember it. Apparently I was doing strange things with my hair.

Went back to the apartment and crashed until one in the afternoon. Then we went and saw Howl's Moving Castle.

Fourth of July:

Nana came over again on Monday. The weather was beautiful, so we sat by the pool and had margaritas and donuts, which, let me tell you, is an odd combination for breakfast. Then we decided to go canoeing, so we cleaned off the canoe, hijacked Laura's canoe, and we all trooped over to the park.

Canoeing on two margaritas and a donut is interesting at first. People make fun of you when you can't steer the damn boat, but you'll get the hang of it after a while.

After we got home, there was barbeque and more fireworks. Yay Fourth of July.

And then there was today... cut for angsting )
nirix5: (I've tried hard to mend my wicked ways)
It ended today with me and my father not speaking to each other. Again.

To recap: My cousin James calls me on Wednesday night. He tells me that he'll be here to pick me up the next day. After much discussion, we decide to take my sister with us, too. After he gets here on Thursday night, I drag him to go see War of the Worlds with Quinn and Olivier.

On Friday we drive down to Princeton, stopping in Pennsylvania for mass quantities of fireworks. MASS. QUANTITIES. OF. FIREWORKS. Holy hell, I have never seen so many explosive devices grouped together in one warehouse before. And none of you people give me condescending looks, either, because neither have you. This place was like half of Wegmans filled with fireworks, and there were more outside in eighteen-wheeler trucks lined up in the parking lot. James just about had a seizure, he was so excited.

Saturday was the day of James's 21st birthday party. I may have forgotten to mention this, but the entire point of this trip was to go to this party and get absolutely smashed. Observe a telephone conversation a week ago Friday:

James: I'm turning 21 next Saturday.
Me: I know. Awesome.
James: Come down and get drunk with me.
Me: Sounds like a plan.

Family Party:

The Big Thing/Great Experiment was James and Uncle Kevin deep frying a turkey in the backyard. Nana brought over a disposable video camera and most of the movie is of the turkey. The turkey being fried, the turkey being talked about, eaten, contemplated, looked at, whatever.

Everyone went in the pool. Lots of people went on the trampoline. There was cake and food in abundance, and it was great great great. Not suprisingly, James got lots of liquor for presents. He also got to set off a bunch of fireworks, which made him happy and wowed everyone else.

Big Kids Party:

James, Amanda, Laura, Dan, and I went over to Blair and Julia's apartment. We got fucked up. There were maragritas. There were kittens. There were other things. Dan, Amanda, James and I sat in an empty room, watching the moon set as we killed a bottle of wine. I remember thinking at the time that the whole scene was very Rumi. That's the only thing I remember thinking, except for something obscure that had to do with my sociology professor.

Then we went to a diner. I don't remember it. Apparently I was doing strange things with my hair.

Went back to the apartment and crashed until one in the afternoon. Then we went and saw Howl's Moving Castle.

Fourth of July:

Nana came over again on Monday. The weather was beautiful, so we sat by the pool and had margaritas and donuts, which, let me tell you, is an odd combination for breakfast. Then we decided to go canoeing, so we cleaned off the canoe, hijacked Laura's canoe, and we all trooped over to the park.

Canoeing on two margaritas and a donut is interesting at first. People make fun of you when you can't steer the damn boat, but you'll get the hang of it after a while.

After we got home, there was barbeque and more fireworks. Yay Fourth of July.

And then there was today... cut for angsting )

Argh. ARGH

Jun. 29th, 2005 08:13 pm
nirix5: (not listening)
More apartment drama... ready? )

And then Dad went ballistic )

Well, for the record-

Reasons for Staying With Parents

~ No rent
~ Free food
~ I don't have to move my stuff
~ Most of the apartments are in what Dad considers to be Shitty Neighborhoods

(It's not my fault that everywhere is shitty now. It's also not my fault that people get shot and killed all over the damn city, including two daughters of friends of my father. No one says a damn thing about the rape that happened in a spot that I can see from my bedroom window and my penchant for taking walks by myself late at night.)

Reasons for Moving Out

~ The commute sucks. Two hours each way. This is time that could be used for studying, except I can't read in vehicles because I get sick.
~ No sleep. By the time I get home and eat dinner and stuff, there's only two hours of study time left. I can stay up later, but I have to get up at 4:45 to catch the fucking bus, so that means I'm constantly sleep deprived.
~ Car= fucking expensive. More expensive than $250/mo. for just about everything.
~ Can't stay late at school. The buses to B'ville only run till 6 PM.
~ Because the buses only run till 6 PM, NO JOB.
~ Not to mention my social life is dependent on other people who live a minimum of 25 minutes away for rides.
~ Okay, do I really need to go into the Quinn thing? That deserves an entire post of its own. Basically, my parents are living in the ninteenth century. "OMG NO CUDDLING ON THE COUCH ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND! THINK OF YOUR REPUTATION! SIX INCHES APART AT ALL TIMES AND HE CAN ONLY GO UPSTAIRS TO USE THE BATHROOM!"

... Yeah. It's really kind of stupid, since I'm TWENTY TWO FUCKING YEARS OLD. Yet, being an understanding person, I acknowledge the fact that this is their house, not mine. However, the one night I spent over at Quinn's, I didn't hear the end of it for days. Now, I could just ignore this or tell them to get the fuck over it, but living through that sort of drama-angst is bound to make life miserable for everyone involved.

~ Quinn= Distraction. However, he's always more of a distraction when he's not around than when he is. So instead of spending all my time thinking about the next time I'm going to see him, I'll know that I'll see him day in and day out. Ergo, I won't get distracted and mopey while studying.

Not that any of these reasons actually matter per se. I'm old enough to do whatever the hell I want to. And if they think that I'm not spending at least four nights a week at wherever Quinn is, regardless of my actual address, then they've got another thing coming.

Plus, there's the fact that I feel kind of stifled, but that's just a mental thing. I want to be the hell away from my family. Nice people, and I love them and all, but you know? This is kind of ridiculous, especially when they're still telling me when to go to bed.

Dad has been begging me to reconsider for the past two hours. Ha. If I was a mean person, I'd be like, "Okay. But you pay me ___ for allowance, and buy me a car, and pay for dance lessons. And I'm still not going to be here all the time." But I'm not mean. Nope.

To sum it all up, it just seems kind of pointless to keep living in B'ville just to make my parents feel better when my entire life is so far away from it. Why add the giant commute and subequent job problems when I can solve them by moving out?

Gah.

Argh. ARGH

Jun. 29th, 2005 08:13 pm
nirix5: (not listening)
More apartment drama... ready? )

And then Dad went ballistic )

Well, for the record-

Reasons for Staying With Parents

~ No rent
~ Free food
~ I don't have to move my stuff
~ Most of the apartments are in what Dad considers to be Shitty Neighborhoods

(It's not my fault that everywhere is shitty now. It's also not my fault that people get shot and killed all over the damn city, including two daughters of friends of my father. No one says a damn thing about the rape that happened in a spot that I can see from my bedroom window and my penchant for taking walks by myself late at night.)

Reasons for Moving Out

~ The commute sucks. Two hours each way. This is time that could be used for studying, except I can't read in vehicles because I get sick.
~ No sleep. By the time I get home and eat dinner and stuff, there's only two hours of study time left. I can stay up later, but I have to get up at 4:45 to catch the fucking bus, so that means I'm constantly sleep deprived.
~ Car= fucking expensive. More expensive than $250/mo. for just about everything.
~ Can't stay late at school. The buses to B'ville only run till 6 PM.
~ Because the buses only run till 6 PM, NO JOB.
~ Not to mention my social life is dependent on other people who live a minimum of 25 minutes away for rides.
~ Okay, do I really need to go into the Quinn thing? That deserves an entire post of its own. Basically, my parents are living in the ninteenth century. "OMG NO CUDDLING ON THE COUCH ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND! THINK OF YOUR REPUTATION! SIX INCHES APART AT ALL TIMES AND HE CAN ONLY GO UPSTAIRS TO USE THE BATHROOM!"

... Yeah. It's really kind of stupid, since I'm TWENTY TWO FUCKING YEARS OLD. Yet, being an understanding person, I acknowledge the fact that this is their house, not mine. However, the one night I spent over at Quinn's, I didn't hear the end of it for days. Now, I could just ignore this or tell them to get the fuck over it, but living through that sort of drama-angst is bound to make life miserable for everyone involved.

~ Quinn= Distraction. However, he's always more of a distraction when he's not around than when he is. So instead of spending all my time thinking about the next time I'm going to see him, I'll know that I'll see him day in and day out. Ergo, I won't get distracted and mopey while studying.

Not that any of these reasons actually matter per se. I'm old enough to do whatever the hell I want to. And if they think that I'm not spending at least four nights a week at wherever Quinn is, regardless of my actual address, then they've got another thing coming.

Plus, there's the fact that I feel kind of stifled, but that's just a mental thing. I want to be the hell away from my family. Nice people, and I love them and all, but you know? This is kind of ridiculous, especially when they're still telling me when to go to bed.

Dad has been begging me to reconsider for the past two hours. Ha. If I was a mean person, I'd be like, "Okay. But you pay me ___ for allowance, and buy me a car, and pay for dance lessons. And I'm still not going to be here all the time." But I'm not mean. Nope.

To sum it all up, it just seems kind of pointless to keep living in B'ville just to make my parents feel better when my entire life is so far away from it. Why add the giant commute and subequent job problems when I can solve them by moving out?

Gah.
nirix5: (shit (munro))
Yeeeah. The Aparment Viewing of Doom didn't happen- again. Flaky Receptionist bungled the directions, causing us to miss hooking up with Flaky Lawyer/Real Estate Bimbo, who decided that she didn't want to wait around the apartment anymore and took off. This caused much angst to Quinn, his mom, and I.

With that shot, we went back to the Old Apartment of Doom to take another look around for more of Quinn's stuff. It was worse than the last time I'd seen it (!!!) and the dishes are still sitting in the bin full of water where I left them two weeks ago. *headdesk* It's really starting to smell in there.

Then Quinn and I hung around my house for a while, and he caught the bus home. Bah. BAH. Centro, you have earned my eternal hatred for your stupid scheduling.

Wearing a sweatshirt, even though it's hot, because there's just no excuse for the bruises on my arms. It's perfectly apparent what they are and exactly where they came from... especially the bite marks that haven't faded out of teeth-shape yet.

I'm going to have to take up paintball if this keeps up.
nirix5: (shit (munro))
Yeeeah. The Aparment Viewing of Doom didn't happen- again. Flaky Receptionist bungled the directions, causing us to miss hooking up with Flaky Lawyer/Real Estate Bimbo, who decided that she didn't want to wait around the apartment anymore and took off. This caused much angst to Quinn, his mom, and I.

With that shot, we went back to the Old Apartment of Doom to take another look around for more of Quinn's stuff. It was worse than the last time I'd seen it (!!!) and the dishes are still sitting in the bin full of water where I left them two weeks ago. *headdesk* It's really starting to smell in there.

Then Quinn and I hung around my house for a while, and he caught the bus home. Bah. BAH. Centro, you have earned my eternal hatred for your stupid scheduling.

Wearing a sweatshirt, even though it's hot, because there's just no excuse for the bruises on my arms. It's perfectly apparent what they are and exactly where they came from... especially the bite marks that haven't faded out of teeth-shape yet.

I'm going to have to take up paintball if this keeps up.
nirix5: (love l-u-v (iharthdarth))
We didn't get to look at the apartment yesterday due to court running over (on the realtor's end, not mine) or something like that. I called her this morning and rescheduled for Tuesday at 12:30.

Called Quinn at ten o'clock to tell him this, but he was still asleep.

Then I called Jason 2. He still wants to go in on an apartment and doesn't mind sharing a room with someone as long as they don't mind music being played constantly. So... yay.

My head is freakin' killing me.

Vampire tonight.

Queen Marie of Romania = Malkavian. Empress Alexandra of Russia = same. Queen Victoria = Ventrue.

I need to stop crossing things over in my head.

(Greg- Malkavian, Catherine- Toreador)
nirix5: (love l-u-v (iharthdarth))
We didn't get to look at the apartment yesterday due to court running over (on the realtor's end, not mine) or something like that. I called her this morning and rescheduled for Tuesday at 12:30.

Called Quinn at ten o'clock to tell him this, but he was still asleep.

Then I called Jason 2. He still wants to go in on an apartment and doesn't mind sharing a room with someone as long as they don't mind music being played constantly. So... yay.

My head is freakin' killing me.

Vampire tonight.

Queen Marie of Romania = Malkavian. Empress Alexandra of Russia = same. Queen Victoria = Ventrue.

I need to stop crossing things over in my head.

(Greg- Malkavian, Catherine- Toreador)
nirix5: (Default)
Instead of working on my English paper like I'm supposed to I went back and looked over a bunch of journal entries from when I was all fucked up.

*am not fucked up anymore (I think) huzzah!*

It was very odd, reading those entries. Not so much for what they say as for what they bring to mind. Anyway, onwards.

Tentative schedule for next semester:

Monday, Wednesday, Friday

8:00-8:50 Special Investigations
9:00-9:50 Chemistry 104
10:00-10:50 Intro to Psychology
1:30-2:20 Algebra

Monday

11:30-12:20 Chemistry 104 Recitation

Wednesday

6:00-8:45 PM Criminal Investigations

Tuesday, Thursday

8:00-9:15 Criminalistics I
2:00-3:50 Ballroom Dancing

Tuesday

11:00-1:50 Chemistry 104 Lab

Note to Manda and Jason: That's the only ballroom dancing course offered. So if we want to take it together, Manda, then we've got to switch psych classes. I just picked a random one that fit in with the rest of my schedule.

Gah. So that's what... six classes plus lab and recitation; should be about... shit, only 17 credits. That's because ballroom dancing only counts for one. Fuck it; I really can't jam any more into this schedule and get a job on top of it all. I guess what I can't do in the fall I can get a jump start on in the summer. I think I'm going to take anthropology during the second 5 week summer session. Counting that class in with fall's credits ups me to 20 credits. That's doable.

After this semester I'll have 33 credits
After next semester I'll have 53 credits

...and that's so close to graduating it's not even funny. I really should try to jam it all in but at this point, I just don't want to. Canton will still be there the fall after next, and if it's not, then I'll just go to John Jay or try for GWU. Although I'm not so sure about GWU now that I've pretty much decided that I don't want to be in a lab at all, and I think that's what their program is geared for. Still considering it for my Master's, though.

In the meantime, there's the whole apartment drama thing to sort out. I found two that are close to school- one is a two bedroom for $550/mo., the other is a one bedroom for $400/mo. This is almost entirely contingent on how much money I make this summer, but I think I might be able to swing it. Might might might might might. Needless to say, my father blows a gasket at the very thought of it. On one hand I don't blame him, but on the other... living in Baldwinsville is just too damn out of the way. Having a car is too expensive- I'd be paying as much in gas and insurance as I would in rent per month to move closer to school. *facedesk* Gah. I don't even want to think about it right this second.

I have no idea how in the fuck I'm going to fit dance in on top of everything. And other inconsequential things, like sleep and possibly eating.

Whatever. Pacing yourself is for sissies, right?

[Note to self: don't forget algebra/trig/Greek/Latin on own time]
[Note to self again: don't forget about French and start Japanese]

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nirix5

August 2014

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