Saturday, September 14, 2002
 

People don't like unhappy postings . . . I guess everyone just prefers my endlessly cheerful personality. Riiiiight.

The party was fun but not exciting as last year's apparently was (prof attempting to lure people into basement; male grad hitting on lesbian DGS in front of her partner; etc). Only two of my personal group overindulged, shall we say. One in particular was seriously far-gone, and his touchy-feeling tendencies pick up the more smashed he gets. That's what they get for having a margarita machine (the person staffing it, just for the record, fit every possible stereotype for an aging country music groupie) and well-stocked coolers. Some people I know were very entertained by the fact that I was wearing a skirt (but I was most emphatically not happy about it), which they now say I have to do more often, as in for class. No. After the party started to break up, most of us headed over to Bosco's; as I said in the previous posting, I talked to The Daddy Figure until the wee wee hours, when the place was closing anyway. We first-years, feeling much in need of a pick-me-up, are attempting to coordinate a social event. Jake's mommy has been put in charge of social planning, and I've volunteered my apartment, since I can seat everybody. Uncreatively, we're thinking a movie (I offered up my extensive X-Files episode collection, and while one guy did seem enthused-- he had had several Coronas at the time-- but Jake's mommy said they frightened her).

I've been unproductive today, mainly because of my melancholy (did I just call it that? I've been reading too much Victorian). I haven't yet done my research for the Victorian project; I went to the library and basically gave up because I was too upset at that time to concentrate. So I walked home, and of course it started to rain. And it was cold. And raining. And I was not happy.

But I digress from happy-mode. I did laundry today, which would have been the day's most exciting event, had it not been for a fire alarm about an hour ago. Not surprisingly, there did not appear to be an actual fire, but I always evacuate anyway. This nutty lady I've run into a few times called the fire department (in spite of the fact that they're automatically summoned when the alarm is activated) and started trying to warn everyone away from the building. She ended up by herself, far far far from the building, talking on her cell phone (after calling 911 on it). The guy next door to me did emerge from his hovel, but he didn't make eye contact with anyone and mostly shuffled with his hands in his pockets. My polite smile was unreturned, so I just returned to reading Virginia Woolf, who traveled out (made a Voyage Out? yuk, yuk, yuk) with me. I looked stunning; because of this being laundry day, I was wearing my ubiquitious Illinois sweatshirt and the oldest of the old exercise pants. I was carrying the fake Prada, since it had my wallet etc in it, so the total effect was quite stunning. Or something.

I hardly noticed the fire engines when they pulled in. Being so close (right across the street, in fact) from the hospital has got me really used to sirens and helicopters. They're building a muskoskeletal institute now, and it has these peculiar brick structures in front of it that look like diagonally-sliced paper towel rolls. I have no idea what they are, and it puzzles me. Not that that takes much.

I'm avoiding Middlemarch, as I imagine is obvious by now. I'm trying to alternate between it and the Woolf, and I haven't even touched the Faulkner.

Finally, a product update from Philosophy Slam: Galaxy Food brand "Veggie Slices" fake cheese is good stuff. I have the provolone. Also good stuff: peanut butter M&Ms. Not good: George Eliot.

Elvisette philosophized at 8:04 PM