School's out for summer
May. 27th, 2005 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredericksI'm done with classes this semester. No more Hunter. My last final wrapped on Wednesday evening. It was my Ethics final, and I guess it was appropriate since that was the class I enjoyed most this semester. I did well on it, I think, although I was too tired to spend enough energy on making the extra credit essay coherent. As I was leaving I tried to inquire about my grade so far, and the professor was kind enough to tell me I was one of the top students in the class. It was a nice ego boost since as I uniformly bombed on the three other finals to took, but methinks that was just his way of getting me out of the class faster (I was one of the last three people left by that time).
Yesterday I proctored for Access and Accommodations (the office I notetake under). Pretty easy stuff - run around to various offices collecting and dropping off exams, watch over students taking exams, read/write for those that require it. I was exhausted, though, seeing as I'd maintained the whole three hours of sleep routine for the last week, and I was fighting snoozing on myself anytime I stayed in one place for more than 20 minutes.
Which makes me wonder why I thought going to see the new Star Wars would be a good thing afterward. I hated it. HATED IT. Not Scary Movie 2 hate, but enough hate that I actually got up while the movie was running and went to the Concession Stand, figuring Snicker Bite Size Balls would lend themselves to more fun that Lucas' creation. I never leave my seat while movies I'm watching are playing, which gives you some indication of my interest. I didn't like the first two, but I thought that with everyone buzzing about the action in this one I might become a believer. No. The acting was wooden. The script? "I don't even know you anymore!" NO ONE SHOULD EVER EVER EVER SAY THAT in a movie unless they're being purposely melodramatic. And the less that's said about "Noooooo!" the better. Ugh. So much could have been accomplished using subtlety but Lucas (and whatever ghostwriters he had lending him a hand) felt the need to throw in a corny and usually cliched line. I kept hoping the fighting would make all the dreck I sat through worthwhile, but...not for me. The entire experience just wasn't for me. I did, however, thoroughly enjoy watching the Chronicles of Narnia trailer on the big screen. Chills, big grin, and all. Cannot wait for that.
When I came home I found out my brother was on his way to Florida, driving. We'd discussed it for a while and were planning to go down during our Spring Break, but the car needed work? or insurance? something along those lines. I was surprised and a little perturbed to see him going. He wasn't going alone, but I still felt uneasy about him trying to drive down there. The two times we and our folks had driven down had been utter disasters. My parents simply refused to spend money on a hotel room so we basically drove non-stop with the occasional roadside stop for the two drivers (mom and dad) to rest. I rarely could, because I was afraid that if I went to sleep they'd wake up and start driving again and we'd be fucked. They never got enough sleep and they always started nodding at the wheel. We'd be driving down I-95 at 2:30 in the morning with the massive 18-wheelers flying by at 90 and the car would be drifting all over the fucking road. And when the folks weren't taking time falling asleep at the wheel they'd be arguing with each other over inanities. Not little arguments, but drag-out top-of-the-lung yelling matches. These usually started around hour eight, after everyone was more than a little grumpy from being cramped in the vehicle. Pleasant pleasant memories.
I had more faith in my brother and my uncle (both being fairly slow tempered easy-going people), but I was still sad to see my brother go. I guess I really do care for the annoying guy.
After he left my father got on my other brothers' cases for not hugging the departing bro. before he left. At first he seemed to be joking but he got more serious as he went on. As I became less and less amused I stopped focusing on the dishes I was washing and started listening to what he was saying. He'd started on them for not hugging HIM now, and he distinctly said at one point "Oh, you don't want to hug your father? I pay the bills around here". I had to say something then, which I recollect as "We have to hug you because you pay the bills? What about because we love you?" His response? "I don't know about love..." then he mumbled something and I felt like I'd been slapped. I *could* have said "We don't know how to hug because you never hug US" at that point, or "We don't pay bills for the house; is that why you don't hug us?" but I didn't. I finished washing the dishes and went upstairs.
I pity him sometimes, on rare occasions. Mostly I'm indifferent towards him or trying to avoid him or filled with dull hate just thinking about him. Yesterday evening, with the soap suds around my wrists, I think I can say I pitied him. I think he's dissatisfied with his life. He's said more than once that he regrets having kids, and I'm pretty sure he regrets getting married. Instead of enjoying what he has he bitches and complains and generally makes everyone else's lives teh suck. Not all the time, but enough that it's more than a minor annoyance.
Okay, I'm done with that.
Went by Pace today to drop off my deposit. It was my first time visiting the complex, not campus by any stretch of the imagination. It's located a stone's throw away from City Hall and the Brooklyn Bridge. From what I saw it was okay. Then again, I haven't seen much. I should try to go for a tour one of these days. I'm still waiting for my FinAid package to show up so I can figure out how much I'll need to borrow from Uncle Sam.
After that trip was another fine day of proctoring. I'd actually managed to get six or so hours of sleep but you wouldn't have known it by the way I was nodding on myself. I was so exhausted while I was working it wasn't even funny. Well, it was, I guess; I kept having those weird twitches you get right as you start falling asleep when you're particularly tired. I'd twitch, then I'd look around sleepily to see if the other people had noticed me, try to go back to sleep, and then start it all over again. Came home and, oddly enough, didn't feel the least bit tired. No one was home so I cleaned up a bit and blasted Sing the Sorrow on the stereo downstairs. It really thumps when you have big speakers and solid bass - who knew?
That's more or less my day up to now. The house is missing two of my siblings, and it's eerily quiet. On the plus side, we won't have to cook as much food as usual this weekend.
The last book I finished (and the book I was reading during most of the day) was Tanith Lee's Silver Metal Lover which, regardless of it's title, is NOT a cheap Harlequinn-like book. For Lee, the book is surprisingly not graphic. Spare and well-written, it's easy and intriguing reading. About a metal pleasure bot. Heh. Not a cheap sex book, though. I was so embarrassed carrying it on the subway. I spent a lot of time reading and trying to hide the cover page. Lee didn't resort to cheesy sob-tastic endings like a certain person (*cough* Lackey *cough*) I know. Well, okay, it WAS a little cheesy, but not as bad as that other one I was engrossed in a couple of days ago.Now I don't know what to read. I have Carlin's newest book, a couple of Sin City GN's, and a Starman GN to choose from. Eh, guess I'll flip a coin.
Can't believe I forgot I'm in the middle of reading a book right now. Poppy Z. Brite's Exquisite Corpse, which appears to be about a couple of serial killers along the lines of Jeffrey Dahmer. It's interesting, but I've not yet gotten into the heart of a plot.
Ha. "Heart of a...". Sorry. Mutilation humor.
Fin.
Yesterday I proctored for Access and Accommodations (the office I notetake under). Pretty easy stuff - run around to various offices collecting and dropping off exams, watch over students taking exams, read/write for those that require it. I was exhausted, though, seeing as I'd maintained the whole three hours of sleep routine for the last week, and I was fighting snoozing on myself anytime I stayed in one place for more than 20 minutes.
Which makes me wonder why I thought going to see the new Star Wars would be a good thing afterward. I hated it. HATED IT. Not Scary Movie 2 hate, but enough hate that I actually got up while the movie was running and went to the Concession Stand, figuring Snicker Bite Size Balls would lend themselves to more fun that Lucas' creation. I never leave my seat while movies I'm watching are playing, which gives you some indication of my interest. I didn't like the first two, but I thought that with everyone buzzing about the action in this one I might become a believer. No. The acting was wooden. The script? "I don't even know you anymore!" NO ONE SHOULD EVER EVER EVER SAY THAT in a movie unless they're being purposely melodramatic. And the less that's said about "Noooooo!" the better. Ugh. So much could have been accomplished using subtlety but Lucas (and whatever ghostwriters he had lending him a hand) felt the need to throw in a corny and usually cliched line. I kept hoping the fighting would make all the dreck I sat through worthwhile, but...not for me. The entire experience just wasn't for me. I did, however, thoroughly enjoy watching the Chronicles of Narnia trailer on the big screen. Chills, big grin, and all. Cannot wait for that.
When I came home I found out my brother was on his way to Florida, driving. We'd discussed it for a while and were planning to go down during our Spring Break, but the car needed work? or insurance? something along those lines. I was surprised and a little perturbed to see him going. He wasn't going alone, but I still felt uneasy about him trying to drive down there. The two times we and our folks had driven down had been utter disasters. My parents simply refused to spend money on a hotel room so we basically drove non-stop with the occasional roadside stop for the two drivers (mom and dad) to rest. I rarely could, because I was afraid that if I went to sleep they'd wake up and start driving again and we'd be fucked. They never got enough sleep and they always started nodding at the wheel. We'd be driving down I-95 at 2:30 in the morning with the massive 18-wheelers flying by at 90 and the car would be drifting all over the fucking road. And when the folks weren't taking time falling asleep at the wheel they'd be arguing with each other over inanities. Not little arguments, but drag-out top-of-the-lung yelling matches. These usually started around hour eight, after everyone was more than a little grumpy from being cramped in the vehicle. Pleasant pleasant memories.
I had more faith in my brother and my uncle (both being fairly slow tempered easy-going people), but I was still sad to see my brother go. I guess I really do care for the annoying guy.
After he left my father got on my other brothers' cases for not hugging the departing bro. before he left. At first he seemed to be joking but he got more serious as he went on. As I became less and less amused I stopped focusing on the dishes I was washing and started listening to what he was saying. He'd started on them for not hugging HIM now, and he distinctly said at one point "Oh, you don't want to hug your father? I pay the bills around here". I had to say something then, which I recollect as "We have to hug you because you pay the bills? What about because we love you?" His response? "I don't know about love..." then he mumbled something and I felt like I'd been slapped. I *could* have said "We don't know how to hug because you never hug US" at that point, or "We don't pay bills for the house; is that why you don't hug us?" but I didn't. I finished washing the dishes and went upstairs.
I pity him sometimes, on rare occasions. Mostly I'm indifferent towards him or trying to avoid him or filled with dull hate just thinking about him. Yesterday evening, with the soap suds around my wrists, I think I can say I pitied him. I think he's dissatisfied with his life. He's said more than once that he regrets having kids, and I'm pretty sure he regrets getting married. Instead of enjoying what he has he bitches and complains and generally makes everyone else's lives teh suck. Not all the time, but enough that it's more than a minor annoyance.
Okay, I'm done with that.
Went by Pace today to drop off my deposit. It was my first time visiting the complex, not campus by any stretch of the imagination. It's located a stone's throw away from City Hall and the Brooklyn Bridge. From what I saw it was okay. Then again, I haven't seen much. I should try to go for a tour one of these days. I'm still waiting for my FinAid package to show up so I can figure out how much I'll need to borrow from Uncle Sam.
After that trip was another fine day of proctoring. I'd actually managed to get six or so hours of sleep but you wouldn't have known it by the way I was nodding on myself. I was so exhausted while I was working it wasn't even funny. Well, it was, I guess; I kept having those weird twitches you get right as you start falling asleep when you're particularly tired. I'd twitch, then I'd look around sleepily to see if the other people had noticed me, try to go back to sleep, and then start it all over again. Came home and, oddly enough, didn't feel the least bit tired. No one was home so I cleaned up a bit and blasted Sing the Sorrow on the stereo downstairs. It really thumps when you have big speakers and solid bass - who knew?
That's more or less my day up to now. The house is missing two of my siblings, and it's eerily quiet. On the plus side, we won't have to cook as much food as usual this weekend.
The last book I finished (and the book I was reading during most of the day) was Tanith Lee's Silver Metal Lover which, regardless of it's title, is NOT a cheap Harlequinn-like book. For Lee, the book is surprisingly not graphic. Spare and well-written, it's easy and intriguing reading. About a metal pleasure bot. Heh. Not a cheap sex book, though. I was so embarrassed carrying it on the subway. I spent a lot of time reading and trying to hide the cover page. Lee didn't resort to cheesy sob-tastic endings like a certain person (*cough* Lackey *cough*) I know. Well, okay, it WAS a little cheesy, but not as bad as that other one I was engrossed in a couple of days ago.
Can't believe I forgot I'm in the middle of reading a book right now. Poppy Z. Brite's Exquisite Corpse, which appears to be about a couple of serial killers along the lines of Jeffrey Dahmer. It's interesting, but I've not yet gotten into the heart of a plot.
Ha. "Heart of a...". Sorry. Mutilation humor.
Fin.
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Trivial matters...
Date: 2005-05-28 04:50 am (UTC)And as for George Carlin's latest? When Will Jesus Bring the Porkchops? Lame. I have Napalm and Silly Putty and Brain Droppings but the new one is a deflated version of the other two. He tries WAY too hard. Really bummed me out because the others are some of my favorite books. It's like he was reeeeally stretching to be funny, but didn't quite get there.
Re: Trivial matters...
Date: 2005-05-28 10:41 pm (UTC)About Carlin's book - I started it yesterday and then promptly put it down. The whole long poem it starts out with was too much. I returned it to the library this afternoon.