Weekend Funny Business

I got new pillows.  It was a long time coming.  The old ones came with Kyle's couch.  I joked that a serial killer made them.  That would be more funny if I didn't think it was little bit true.  I'm sure if I really looked I could find a Buffalo Bill signature.  Tell me with a straight face they don't look like that.  

First thing Sunday I want on a triple date to the Cactus and Succulent Show and Sale at the Zilker Botanical Gardens. The six of us then walked around the Botanical Gardens. It was hot. Look at the plants I bought.

Then Kyle and I went to the library because I needed to look at some kid's books that are on reserve for one of my classes.

Then we went to eat at Schlotsky's. There we suffered through lunch. It is hard to keep your mouth shut and eat at the same time. Next to our table was a table with three girls. All of which seemed to be at the night out they were talking about, but for some reason they were describing it step by step. I took this many shots, and then you had this many, then this guy said this to you and then I started talking to him, etc. I just could not figure out why they kept talking. They had absolutely nothing to say. I wasn't even interested in their lame story and I didn't already live it like they had. What the hell? They did, however, all have on nike running shorts.

Then I came home and watched Gone Baby Gone. It was good. I was pleasantly surprised.

Now here I am.

I'm tired, big time!

Four classes on Tuesday/Thursday might have been a poor decision.  It wasn't like I planned it that way, but those are the classes that I wanted.  I go to school from 12:30-6:30.  No breaks.  

Too tired to type.  

My new favorite snack: Blue Diamond Brand Salt & Vinegar Almonds.  The best thing this side of Schlotsky's salt & vinegar chips.  

Dread

An assortment of things 

1. I am absolutely dreading going back to school.  It was like I had no break because I had to spend all my time focusing on applying for graduate school.  Bummer!
   
2. I have seen a couple of Ellen Page movies lately and they are really disturbing.  Hard Candy and An American Crime, the worst part is the latter is a true story.  
3. My final semester of undergraduate course work begins on Wednesday.  I am taking: Walt Whitman, my senior seminar for English it's called Poetry, Performance, and some other "P" word I can't remember, Deviance a Sociology class, We Like to Watch: Surveillance and information science class, and Children's Literature and information science class.  I have never used any of my pass/fail "coupons" so I feel myself using some this semester.  
4. In December it will be a year and a half since I started at UT and in that year and a half I will have taken 65 credit hours.  
5. And I wonder why I'm so tired all the time.  
6. Please, God, where ever you are, please, let me get into graduate school.  I don't want to have to go through this again.   
7. In this wonderful year and half I have discovered an interesting tid-bit about myself.  When I get really stressed (I never knew stressed until UT) I get the runs.  Thanks body, because when I'm stressed out it is so much better when my ass hurts too.  (Over share, I know, but it is kinda funny.) 

I'm back

Before Kyle and I went to the beach our neighbors were evicted.  That is a big fat boo-ya!  They didn't even have the pleasure of moving themselves out.  I hope I never see either of them again, ever.  

Now I have to write my statement of purpose for graduate school within the next two days and fill out the applications as well.  I'm nervous.  I need to email two of my professors to ask about recommendations.  I already have one confirmation.  The deadline is hurtling towards me.  It is making me very anxious.  

School starts again in one week. Bummer! 

Kyle and I are going to the matinee today to see The Dark Knight.  

I'm so close to done I can taste it

I have some revisions to do on a paper and that is it.  Proofreading blows.  

The last day of class my professor gave out awards. He went to Half-Priced Books and got some books of some authors we had read in class.  It was fun and funny.  (This professor also introduced me to the phrase "So-and-so drinks like a hole".  It's funny.  It gets funnier.  I swear I find it funnier everyday.  

So I got an award.  Prepared by the professor.  For:

coolest tattoos that we can see

having a boyfriend who knows a guy that interviews the homeless

Then he says, "And does anyone remember July 24th?" 

I'm thinking what the hell? 

Then, "The day class discussion was dismal and boring" (or some other adjectives that mean roughly the same thing) "the day that Lauren missed class." 

I make an impression.  Kinda like a black eye.   

The Olympics

I'm not watching the olympics. I don't like to be bored. But! The hottest olympian/Austinite is Aaron Peirsol. He is the cutest damn thing I've ever seen. While looking for a picture I stumbled upon his height, 6'4", and birthday. He was born July 23rd, 1983. That makes him a month younger than me.  He also lives in Austin. Now, he wasn't born here, but I'll let that slide cause he has amazing eyes. Plus he has that killer body.  No really, I mean a killer body.  

School's almost out

Two more days of school. A thousand more hours of agony as I have 2 papers due between now and then. But let me tell you when I'm done with this summer session and I get two more wonderful A's I am going to get so tore down. I'm going to get drunk in the middle of the day in the middle of the week.

Sunday Kyle and I are going to the beach, Port Aransas to see his aunt. Kyle also took off the rest of that week until Friday so we can spend some quality time together. Isn't he sweet.

I can't waist anymore time.

Frozen Meat Bullet

Frozen meat bullet? The murder weapon of a CSI episode. What the hell?

Kyle and I have been watching CSI: Miami. The show is so funny. Horatio Cane, or as Kyle calls him, Fellatio Stain's death toll must be in the hundreds by now. That man will shoot anything that moves. Last season, he killed something like 20 guys in Brazil. He did this without so much as a scratch. His orange hair must give him some kind of super power. Or maybe his trollish features give him super powers. I don't know. But nobody believes somebody that looks like Delco's sister would ever look at ol' Fellatio, not to mention marry him. Gross.

The Path to School

Everyday I park in the same spot.  I take the same route walking to class.  Here is a list of some of the things I have seen this summer.  

• hotdog buns
• hamburger buns
• sliced bread
• what looked like a skinned baby bird
• big dead grackle (it seems like I see a new dead bird every week)
• poop, hard to tell what animal made it, but I would venture to say dog poop.  It was on the sidewalk at the intersection of an alley.  You never know, it could have been bum poop. That area reeks of piss.  
• A little man pushing a huge fat woman in a wheel chair.  He was barely taller than the woman even though she was sitting.  It was comical.  
• 3 men smoking weed out in the open.  I saw a man yesterday smoking a joint.  I thought, "Man, that is the second person I have seen this summer smoking weed out in the street." He was an Asian fellow, clean cut sitting near the Dobie.  I smelt it and turned around to see his joint tucked back in his palm.  I take about three more steps and see a hippie- looking fellow smoking a joint the exact same size and shape as the other guy.  Weird.  One must have given the other one the joint.   
• A not-so-dirty-looking guy digging in the dumpster.  I wondered what for and by the time I passed him he was walking behind me.  I don't think he found what he was looking for.  For the record I find it hard to walk 6 feet away from the dumpster because 1 it stinks like trash and 2 it stinks like piss.  He basically had his head in it.  Gross.  
• A pair of jeans

I'm sure there are more outrageous things that I have seen, but I don't take notes.  This is all the stuff I can remember.  

A Meaningful Coincidence?

Today I went to flickr.  Nothing new there.  Only, I was contemplating "Your Photostream" and  "From Your Contacts" and I happen to look down at "Everyone's  Uploads" and there was a vagina.  I thought I would write about vagina since yesterday I talked about Dick.  

This post has the yin quality that the yang-ness of the other post was lacking.  Those of you who don't know Dick won't get the reference.  But there is one. 

Yes, all these puns are quite amusing.  Do you want me to tell you fart joke now?  I'm mature enough to not doubt my maturity and make penis, vagina and fart jokes ad nauseum.  

My head is full of Dick

Philip K. Dick.  It makes me what to pull a Pi, drill to the head.  

the only way you'll ever learn a thing is to admit that you know absolutely nothing

I have had this feeling that men can see right through me. It hasn't really happened with a woman yet. But the older the men, the clearer their view. I am a piece of plate glass. My thoughts are dime-sized mirrors. My eyes are made of magnifying glass. My heart is a diamond.  I dream of puppies. You inebriate me, somehow. I dream of you letting me into your house and offering me a place to sleep in your spare bedroom. I feel like you know this with your smile. You seem kind, though your hospitality wasn't real. Was it? Somewhere that really happened, but not to this me. I have thought about this paradox of truth.  Time is an illusion.  Nothing is real.  Bleeding is an intimate activity when your inner world has intercourse with the outside world.  Can anyone hear me?  Will anyone understand this?  Do I understand this?  I send my thoughts out and they die.  They lie heavy in the earth, but they don't get covered up by dirt.  They get covered by other dead thoughts.  Fungi, insects, and bacteria eat them.  The ideas are graciously recycled.  My image is reflected back at me from a mirror in back of me to another side of the mirror in front of me and the images, one inside the other, trail off into infinity.  Am I that many people or is that an illusion?  My head is a museum filled with an ever changing exhibit of useless memories.  You have the key to a door I need to open.  On the other side is my understanding.  You fell through my pupils into my love and were swimming there in a pool of water-colored comprehension.  The tangle of your hair confines my breath, but you breath for me when you speak.  I am silent.  Glass can't talk. Why should I?