meh

So, I am ill, yet again. But for once, it is a cold, and not migraine/pain disorder/some relation. It is variety!
Well, not entirely, as I have one at least every winter. It is usually at Christmas, however. Maybe I'll have another later.
I am rather getting some fun out of the novelty of being contagious, however. It makes me feel powerful. "I have become death, destroyer of worlds..."

So...life has been routine with some extra naps lately. My brain does seem to have difficulty with that pesky consciousness thing, even before the cold. I am applying to graduate studies: Western, UBC, and U of Alberta so far...and I hate forms and I hate bureaucracy and I hate selling myself to people. I'm used to insulting myself or granting myself outrageous hyperbolical compliments that are not meant to be taken seriously. This convenient lying I do not find interesting enough to enjoy.
I'm a fairly dedicated student, I work pretty hard, I get good marks: give me money. That's it. That's all. I wish it was all automatic and they just looked at my transcript and I did not have to invest any effort into the process. Effort is a terribly limited commodity these days.

Middle English is meh. Fine, not yet exciting. I need to pick a topic for a presentation. On anything. I feel like I'm in grade school again for that one. Developmental Psycholinguistics, on the other hand, is a little over my head. I walked out of the last class feeling very dumb. Of course, the cold-induced idiocy didn't help. Then Sven joined me and we studied Old Norse until that class, which was a bit over an hour later. Sven is a German exchange student, in the aforesaid two of my classes. There are only four others than us in the Norse class, both Helga and Shrimp are in my Middle English class also. I like small classes; I actually know everyone's name. This is comforting; it gives a vague sense that I have some idea what is going on, which (however misleading) is a nice sensation, as well as a novel one.

I like old Norse. But I have been reading Chekhov instead of studying for I am sick and this makes me lazy and irresponsible. And drops my IQ at least fifty points. It is terribly distressing. I love Chekhov to death, he is clever and subtle and sweet, but he does tend to bring out my cynical side more than usual. Take this passage for example: "All I am dreaming about nowwhich seems to me so impossible and unearthly is really quite an ordinary thing," thought Ryabovitch, looking at the clouds of dust racing after the general's carriage. "It's all very ordinary, and everyone goes through it...That general, for instance, has once been in love; now he is married and has children. Captain Vahter, too, is married and beloved, though the nape of his neck is very red and ugly and he has no waist...Salmonov is coarse and very Tatar, but he has had a love affair that has ended in marriage...I am the same as every one else, and I, too, shall have the same experience as every one else, sooner or later..."
I read this and I look over at my POTENTIAL inspiration poster, with the picture of fries and the caption "Not everybody gets to be an astronaut," and I laugh bitterly.
Being sick is bothering me. I hate not being able to think coherantly. It seems a terribly unfair trick for the universe to play on me. I do not appreciate it.

I cleaned my room.

Yeah...that's about it.

"I sometimes wondered how many other people felt the oppression of this union between quietude and terror. I see blank well-ordered streets and men in black moving around inoffensively, sullenly. It goes on day after day, day after day, and nothing happens; but to me it is like a dream from which I might wake screaming. To me the straightness of our life is the straghtness of a tin cord stretched tight. Its stillness is terrible. It might snap with noise like thunder."-G.K. Chesterton

Homecoming II

The Saturday I got some homework done and read some Spinoza. The Sunday was detox day and I had bizarre conversations with castle people and drew on a few. Then Spazz made me dinner. She and Matilda are having a whiteboard war; Matilda (who may be called Howard Yegendorf from now on, due to our porjected future of her as a sketchy philosopher-lawyer) drew a happy flower, and Spazz drew a monster eating the happy flower, and Howard Yegendorf drew a force field protecting the happy flower...They also have a 'bear-proof your residence' magnet that apparently some people were giving out to the poor frosh, as a welcome to university. It's kind of funny: Spazz and I are so alike in our dorkiness; her housemate comes home on Homecoming, drunk out of her mind, and finds her sitting at the coffee table, drinking tea, and doing a jigsaw puzzle.
They also spent the morning doing crafts. They were making false IDs, only not false IDs to get into bars, but ones that said they were younger than they were, so they could get kid menus.
How do I know so many bizarre people? I am blessed. Truly.

A un gato--Borges

No son más silenciosos los espejos
Ni más furtiva el alba aventurera;
Eres, bajo la luna, esa pantera
Que nos es dado divisar de lejos.
Por obra indescifrable de un decreto
Divino, te buscamos vanamente;
Más remoto que el Ganges y el poniente,
Tuya es la soledad, tuyo el secreto.
Tu lomo condesciende a la morosa
Caricia de mi mano. Has admitido,
Desde esa eternidad que ya es olvido.
El amor de la mano recelosa.
En otro tiempo estás. Eres el dueňo
De un ámbito cerrado como un sueňo.

Homecoming I

Sooo... there was this reunion of castle folks as my fellow-quiet-person Winnipegger was down here visiting. It was nice to see everyone. There was much talk of movies and of Johnny Depp, and then there was a drinking game. Much nudity ensued. All I lost was a sock because some enterprising individual thought it might be a good idea to make out with my toe. He was soon disabused of this notion.
You know, I think I really like mad-libs parties.
As to this drinking game...I had water, for company's sake, as I find alcohol sets off the worst qualities of my migraine. And there was this "never-have-I-ever" thing where someone completes the aforesaid sentence and everyone who has committed said act takes a sip, and then someone said "Never have I ever made out with a guy; ok everybody drink" and he and everybody else took a sip. And then they were looking at me and there was this long pause....