- Enjoying a rotation of new figures and potential friendships to entertain, including, although not limited to, 1) the socially anxious, green-haired director man from downstairs, suffering from some painfully severe misconceptions about our resident Asexual Cunt, 2) Victoria: The Suitemate, 3) Jake, John Long's doppelganger, etc.
- Sunday the 6th: I wander in listless sleeplessness for many, many hours and return to earth, having unknowingly entertained some 8 listenings of The Lonely Island's "I Just Had Sex"--I spend the next week with it on constant rotation in my head
- Attending my first Introduction to Comparative Literature lecture, only to have my mind categorically blown by Professor Gabriela Basterra just 20 minutes into the lecture, in which she managed to address nearly every conceivable point of knowledge worth communicating in any class, ever
- The sudden, regular onset of (menstruation-induced?) cravings for late night sweets, having resulted in the acquisition of a range of highly questionable foods: raspberry-filled Ghiradelli chocolates, scary, peanut-less M&Ms, Reese's peanut butter cups, Weight Watchers coffee-flavored ice cream bars, and the like
- Running into Allison Rutter, deep in the bowels of Tisch Hall, only to be informed of the secret kleptomania suffered from by Makena Cunningham--our Connecticut-born, pre-med, USA television-loving ex-roommate--leading to the disappearance of several hundred dollars, and many an overpriced handbag
- Multiple undersexed ladies of the Cunt Castle suddenly partaking in multiple, and potentially misguided, OK Cupid dates: whether this contagion is soon to adopt the status of pandemic remains to be seen
- Kristen finally pointing out Apple's brilliant addition of those fun, flippable hooks on my MacBook charger, allowing for increasingly seamless carting of computer-related materials: this leads me to question what remains of that bounty of pristine, utilitarian ideas locked inside Steve Jobs' interminably vast consciousness
- A detestable collection of show tunes, middle school-worthy soft rock, and Neil Patrick Harris numbers, emanating endlessly from the depths of pod C
feb 7 2011 ∞
oct 13 2011 +
oct 13 2011 +