My free thursday will destroy me
So as my schedule is now, i have monday and tuesday night classes, class all day wednesday, nothing on thursday, and a friday morning class. And I work tuesdays plus one other day.
And i am having the toughest time getting into this semester ever (although as i write this i am doing my first ever humanities critique and blasting the faint, of course).
So this was the first Thursday and I though id use it as an excuse to see a bunch of people I havent seen since i got back. I had a long list of things to do and appointments to keep, and i brought with me a few papers to read in my messenger bag.
But first i had to go to the doctor in the morning. So, it turns out I cant see doctors. Since one ruined my life and I never really dealt with it, its all just a disaster. I went to the doctor, started crying for 2 hours, got into a fight with him, and bought a pack of cigarettes. Seriously. Worst ever. And then three perscriptions are added to my bag.
Then I went to school to do dreaded office hours, work on my dreaded C&S. I went to the library and thought id pick up my math book on reserve while i was at it to copyt he homework. Of course, it wasnt on reserve and it was non refudable at the bookstore. Sigh. So i went gathering sources, looking for some journal called "Science as Culture". I ot the call number, went ot look, NOT THERE AT ALL. I go to ask the sweet old librarian and she says in a hushed voice "its in the crazy secret socialist library." THE WHAT?! Yeah, she says between swearing, hidden on the 10th floor of Bobst is a secret socialist area. You need to ring a buzzer to get in (noting irony 1). I go there and give her the call number for the book. "We dont use call numbers" she says. "What do you do," I reply, "Just put all the books into a big pile so they can feel like equals?!" And then i couldnt take the book anywhere, but of course they had no photocopier. They had the magic bookscanning spaceship. Seriously, this things was unreal, but awesome. Although didnt take a copy card and she didnt know how to use it. So i had to pay for figuring it out. Though highly entertaining. it has feaures that erase your hands from holding doen the book. It senses how lare the book is and condesed the print to fit the page. Brilliant. Or except it will sense you being near th book, so in practice you need to hit the print key and run away from the machine. Seriously. And then 700 pages are added to my bag.
Then I got with Kathy wedding dress shopping, at a bridal place and Macy's. This was super fun, I very much like Kathy, who has the amazing quality of trying on a dress with a huge train that makes her look like a princess while simultaneously pretending to gag, and somehow not look at all absurd. But those bridal places are crazy, you can only try on 7 dresses, you cant know the style number, cant take pictures, and it basicly like 1984. Which led to many jokes about touching a dress having it count as one of the seven, which the salesperson did not appreciate. And then a complexion brush (?!) was added to my bag. And some lipstick.
We then went to play raquetball. So i was already entirely discombobulated, and knew i would suck. and did, but it was still fun. Until i smashed myself in the face with the raquet and gave myself a fat lip!. Ok, actually, it was still fun. I returned my raquet and stuff to daphnes, and julia and i tried to think of creative things i could say about my lip. She decided i should say that a pigeon hit my face. I said i didnt want to be the victim. she said i could say it died. Awesome.
Then I went to a dinner party at Bill and Reesa's new house. Which is great but on the 6th floor. I iced my lip with 4 vodka tonics. We had a great time or course, i really like their house and as if to disprove all our accusations of massive gayness, bill has built a loft with a rusty saw he found on the street. And they leant me a camera, which i put in my bag.
Now its 11:30, im drunk, dirty form the day and raquet ball, have a fat lip, and still not really over the crying episode of the morning. I got to watch the Tivo'd OC, and Dave being Dave, i proceed to walk in the door of his 5th floor apartment and have a breakdown. And then I drink more. When i finally leave at about 1, i walk out and check for my keys and THEY ARE NOT THERE. i call marc, whos out being drunky marc, and ask if i cant perhaps stay there. Then i go back to daves to lok for my keys. But hes turned off the phone and gotten into PJ's so im just knocking at the door for ten minutes until he hears. Keys are not there, they are in ELJ office. I debate sleeping at Dave's, which gives me a shot at going to class tomorrow, vs. going to Marc's penthouse. Who the fuck cares about corporations anyway?
I take a cab to marcs, we sit at the window, have a sess, listen to some great music, then i pass out in teh master bedroom with a view of the entire city. Incredible.