D-day

Due date: March 12th. 15 days and counting.

With 14 response papers, 1 term paper, an annotated bibliography, a portfolio, and 50 sentences left to diagram, I am busy doing what any sensible person in my situation would be doing...namely, making lists of things I would rather be doing. I've never been one to make New Years resolutions, but I lately I've unconsciously been making "end of quarter" resolutions, and the list of things I've resolved to do after this quarter ends has gotten so big I think it might help to write it down.

Things I would be doing if I weren't in the process of committing suicide by academics, and things I am resolved to do after I am finished committing suicide by academics:
1. Read a novel. For fun.
2. Subscribe to a photo-assignment group on Flickr and maybe sync the escapade with my blog.
3. Write a short story. Or, better yet, write and actually finish a short story.
4. Visit the Grand Canyon (it's been years since I've been there and it's more than time to visit it again)
5. Drive to Moro bay. With my bike.
6. Visit Cal Poly San Louis Obispo. Probably while doing the above.
7. Camp on the beach. See the two above.
8. Make a frisbee golf course at Lane Park and not get arrested for it.
9. Become more artistic.
10. Visit the Huntington.
11. Go skiing again
12. Clean my apartment. (...yeah)
13. Swing dance...alot.
14. Win the lotto.......................
15. Finish filling out my grad-school apps.
16. Finish filling out my passport app.

There are more that will come to me as soon as my head hits the pillow...or as soon as I resolve to write those response papers.

Nocturnal Oblique

10pm, I'm at Denny's again. Breakfast for dinner. There has to be a better place to study. I can't wait to move someplace that has a little more respect for itself - I hate it when I sound young and naive. I know there is more to life than pie at 1am and pretty waitresses, but is it too much to ask for some place that can accommodate me some of the time? I've got to quit reading stream-of-consciousness novels.

Two eggs, bacon, hashbrowns and toast - $7.99. I could get the same at Alice's for $3.50, and it would taste better too, but they aren't open this late, and if they were I doubt they'd be serving breakfast.

Sometimes you get tired of being alone in the same apartment, listening to the same music and staring at the same walls, and you just have to get out. You pick a secluded booth in the back- or the region of the restaurant farthest from where you came in. You haven't been there five minutes before a young couple lurches in, clinging to each other like Siamese twins. They too seek out the alleged "back" of the restaurant, and as luck would have it, they take the booth in front of you. At first glance you might think they're just out for a casual date, but the girl plops down on the guy's lap and they begin to put on a display that could make any trollop blush. In fact, you're not entirely convinced that they aren't in the midst of some nefarious act of harlotry, and that money won't be changing hands afterwards. Apparently a booth at Denny's is cheaper than a hotel room. On the wall to the right is a black and white photo of a navy sailor kissing a girl. For some reason the photo seems romantic, while what is taking place in front of you is nauseating. As you attempt to focus on the books in front of you, two very portly fellows also find their way to the back. They take the booth behind you. They sit down heavily with a disturbance that is undoubtedly recorded by seismometers across the county. For some reason just sitting down isn't good enough for the guy on the opposite side of your bench and he seems to sit down several times and even then he can't sit still. The other one decides that now is the most opportune time to phone his deaf mother and very noisily discuss his various gastro-intestinal conditions. Between the constant, wave-like motion of the bench beneath you, -instigated by the avoirdupois beta noire behind you- and the frivolous fornication unfolding in front of you, you're not able to get much done.You watch the rain out the window. Your stomach churns to the tune of "Your Body is a Wonderland" by John Meyer and you look to the sailor and his girl for sympathy, but you don't really get any. Maybe you were better off at home, but after all, you're diagramming sentences, so what difference does it really make?