fredericks: (Ted Laid Out (if you know the artist ple)
In the mail came my revised financial aid statement from Pace, the statement whose reception I've been dreading for roughly a month. I opened the envelope and found...that it was the same thing that I got last time. Oh, but they did manage to add an extra $75 dollars, which I received from TAP. Surreal. I'm pretty sure it's still incorrect, but I have an almost Pavlovian fear of the black pen of the FinAid people. It would be great if I got the same amount of money that I see here, but when's the last time things worked out the way I wanted them to? The good/bad news is that I have to wait until Tuesday to see them. I'm not sure if I my stomach can take much more of this.

Today's baseball night. For the first time in years we're heading to a Mets game. And on Fireworks Night, no less. Tickets costing what they do, mom could only secure nosebleed seats for us, meaning we'll have a grand old time dodging and weaving the rockets as they go up. I do love sitting in the way ups, though. You can do a hell of a lot more goofing around up there, I think. God. It's been so long since either of the New York teams caught my eye, I don't even know what the starting line up is. I guess I should remedy that.

My youngest brothers are at the age where they want to socialize all the time. Of course, for their generation, most of this socialization occurs via the internet and the telephone. The two of them, at this very moment, are vying over who should be on the phone. As far as I can tell both of them have been on it for an ungodly amount of time for the day. It'd be amusing if I didn't hear every ten minutes "Get off the phone, dumbass! I got off for you!" "Shut up!", etc etc etc.
What the hell, it's amusing because of that.

On the book front, I finished both Lost Souls and Drawing Blood. I liked them, but Drawing Blood was more random with the secondary characters. Brite's calling card, I guess, is setting threads in motion and weaving them together slowly until the climax of the work. Blood had weaker threads and the storyline involving one of the main characters proved a distraction. But otherwise, good times. Next is Brite's Wormwood (not a continuation of either the Ghost/Steve or the Trevor/Zach stories, unfortunately) and Sarah Schulman's Rat Bohemia, an excerpt of which I read in my Gay Lit. class and that has managed to stick with me.

I've spent the day so far cleaning up dog upchuck and poop, de-shelling and seasoning shrimp, cleaning the kitchen, and watching NewsRadio. Fun. Well, that last part was fun. The first thing? not so much.
fredericks: (Daria)
The young woman two computers down from me is eating lunch. It appears to be shish kabob procured from the truck outside of school. It is very pungent. My nose and stomach are rebelling.

I crave something sweet right now. I would amble on down to the vending machines on the second floor of this building, but the thought of spending eighty-five cents on sixty-cent candy is less that appealing. Before my notetaking assignment begins I think I will walk the three blocks or so down to a reputable cafe/bakery and introduce myself to a confection of some sort.

I proctored an exam for a young woman I'd once worked with. She was hyper but fun, as usual. I ended up having to write for her because she asked me nicely, and she seemed to be having difficulties getting her thoughts straight (when she hinted to the fact that she had ADHD I was not surprised). Unfortunately I ended up doing too much, helping her instead of just scribing word-for-word. I realized what I was doing a couple of times and wanted to smack myself. I settled with occasionally spilling iced coffee water on myself, because I am a clumsy fool. She asked me to edit a paper for her tomorrow and I decided to do it, because I need money and because I love to edit. And she's nice, if chattier than a chipmunk.

Yesterday I got an unsolicited compliment on my writing. Not the writing here, of course, but at a RPG I frequent. It warmed the cockles of my cold cold heart, it did. I've been going so long feeling like I'm a damned idiot, it's nice to think I can manage something so that someone can lend me praise.

I have four books in my bag right now. I just finished Poppy Z. Brite's Lost Souls. I enjoyed it so much that, before turning the final page, I took the train up to the nearest B&N and picked up two more of Brite's books, Wormwood and Drawing Blood. They seem to be related, and I do hope to find out more about Ghost and Steve. The other book I'm toting, the one I was supposed to read after I finished Lost Souls, is Redwall. I'm ashamed to say I have yet to read it, since it's a classic and all. I've tried to get through it a couple of times in the past, I'm sure. It didn't click for me.

Last night I dreamt that I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. My uncle died of that. I remember the feelings of despair and impending doom that raced through my head when I was informed that I was dying. When I opened my eyes those feelings lingered for a while. My ultimate nightmare would seem to be a slow death.


fredericks: (Default)

October 2013



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