Thursday, December 09, 2004
what you gonna do, little Nomeroo?
Mew. (rhyme unintentional)
I was up until 3:00 last night writing my paper. I wrote until my eyes physically gave out. I'm going to go get them tested on Saturday, cause I don't think that's supposed to happen.
Went to my mom's work book sale in the morning, after five lousy hours of sleep. This is where they auction off books that the newspaper snags for promotional and review purposes and then give the proceeds to charity. I go every year but now they're making it "employees only" and this morning they nearly kicked me out. Fuckers. We snagged $200 worth of books, which may sound like a lot of money, but when we added up the cover prices it came to more than $1200. Major score. Buying books is one of my greatest joys in life. Along with reading, writing inane crap on the internet, sex, food, gyme, and kittens. Gotta love those kittens. I also love umbrellas that open and close with the push of a single button, keyboards that make funny sounds, shiny things, and spicy scallop rolls.
But that's neither here nor there.
Anyway, after the sale I went for the end of my class to hand in the paper, ran into this real keener, Seth, from my class, and asked him if it had gotten out of class already. He admitted he hadn't gone, and that he hadn't even started writing his paper. So perhaps I am cleverer than he is after after all. Or maybe just more willing to sacrifice my sweet, sweet sleep to hand my papers in on time.
I finally spoke to one of the guys in my class who I've been meaning to talk to all term. His name is Devon and he's legally blind -- he can only read when the page is about two inches from his face -- and unless I'm really clueless, he's also gay. He's really fucking brilliant, one of the smartest guys I've met in ages, and when I spoke to him he confessed that he really regretted not having gotten to know me better during the term, because he thought I was really smart (this was a compliment) and he wanted to talk to me more. He was the only person in the class to agree with me on a controversial point about the narrator's sexuality in The Great Gatsby, (I won't bore you with the minutiae) which I appreciated. I told him that he should email me, and I meant it. He's the kind of guy I would love to hang out with, since (presumably) there is no chance of him falling in love with me and then getting all bitter and twisted about it, or of him wanting to take pornographic pictures of me. At the moment, these are qualities that I value greatly in a guy. Hey, at least I'm not naive.
After class a few people suggested going out for some beers -- I knew I should go to the gyme, but on the other hand I really wanted to hang out with the kids from my class, who struck me as genuinely fascinating, smart, down-to-earth, fun people, in stark contrast to most of the other irritating plebeians in my classes. I was torn. Finally, I gave into peer pressure and went to the grad pub for some pitchers and some of the most relaxed and enlightening conversation I've had with a group of people in ages. Nate, Kaila, and Sara, the kids who invited me, are an art history/English student, an English major, and a poet, respectively. We talked about everything from art to literature to grad school to relationships, and I had a great time of it. Best of all, I don't think that to them I came off as being a know-it-all or snobby in the slightest -- they respect intelligence and admire it, which makes me feel SO much more relaxed! I didn't feel like a dork talking with them about translating Tolstoy -- in fact, I felt pretty happy about it. I often wish I felt like this with more people in my life, but I guess at some point I'm just going to have to accept that most people will spend their whole lives misinterpreting me, and only the important ones will figure out who I really am and what I really stand for.
I ran into Prof. G. in the bar, my favourite prof who I have coffee with from time to time, and we talked a bit about the course I'm taking with him next semester. I recommended a book for his daughter for Christmas and generally refrained from looking like the empty-stomach-beer-drinking fool that I was.
I stayed home tonight to help my brother with his history essay, though I was supposed to go out with the Boy. I can be so self-sacrificing. I'd like to say my bro would do the same for me, but that would pretty much be a lie. At least I've had a pretty chill night in. I'm damn exhausted from it all.
Very glad that paper's done and now all I have left is one more exam.
I hate how people become zombies during exam period. University life can destroy a person's psyche and cram so much into their brain that it eventually explodes. Exams should consist of relaxed discussions with your profs in bars. End of story.
That's all folks.
-N
