The Diary of Queen Mothy |
The Katharine Pan Thought Process written @ 3:38 PM on October 24, 2002 I had a bizarre dream last night, but I'm not going to explain all of it because it has a lot of subconscience pyschologically warped Sam visions that no one would understand. I will tell you, however, that at one part in the dream I thought I was Katharine Pan as I stood in a UDF buying food for my dorm. I began arguing with myself over whether I wanted Rolo or tortilla chips for the salsa sitting in the refrigerator. I remember that Katharine Pan thought process carefully: "I really should buy the tortilla chips for the salsa but I REALLY WANT the Rolo! It would be too easy just to buy both." In the end, I think I ended up buying the tortilla chips, much to my (or Kat's) dismay. By that point in the dream, I couldn't remember who I was. All I know is in real life, I have more tortilla chips than salsa. While I was as dead as a rock in my bed, apparently there was a fight in the hallway outside at 1 in the morning. Some guy was visiting one of the girls that live on my floor, and another guy was in the room with her and one thing led to another and... whatever. Apparently everyone was watching as this guy kept trying to break the door down trying to get in the room with the force of his shoulder. Idiot. These doors are fucking protected against nuclear meltdown. Anyway, the police had to come, break it up, and was around for half the night for questionins. The amazing thing about all this was I slept through it, and didn't hear about it until Christina, this girl who lives on my floor, told me about it in drawing class today. I'm usually such a light sleeper. The wind coming through the open window wakes me up, for crying out loud. After class last night, I came back to my room and finished the last character analyses for my first books at approximately 10 pm, thank you, thank you, no need for applause. There are 50 characters total to start out with. It's enough to make any reader go and hang himself, but any person with half a brain will be able to keep them straight, if I do say so myself. I was so proud. Now I just have to do the necessary British cultural research before actually sitting down to write. But I am so happy that the worst of it is over, and I had such a good time creating these little half lives. Fast forward to today. For three days in a row now I've had toast to compliment my breakfast. Life is good. Why document this "stunning" bit of news? I finally learned how to work the goddamned toaster three days ago when my friend Trisha enlightened me. And as far as my domestic capabilities go, or incapabilities thereof, that is a dramatic step for me. I'm still catching my breath and calming my racing heart from it all. Drawing class was decent. We were just finishing up the critique scheduled for this week. This one guy did an amazing portrait of his beautiful girlfriend and wrapped her dark hair around glowing candles. It was rich, positively rich. It was the type of picture that reminds one why art can be a beautiful thing in the world. A lot of people came up with wonderful pieces. I am in my ideal class, I think. I don't know, I've been out of it for half the day. Now that I'm back in my dorm and have time to screw around with my projects, I'm wide awake and looking forward to another stimulating conversation of Harry Potter at dinner ("I call a toast! 21 days until 'The Chamber of Secrets' comes out!" "Here, here!"). But for half the day, I never quite woke up from that abnormally heavy sleep I had last night. For immigration experiences today, we went down to the theater in the University Center and listened to the most eccentric professor I've met so far talk about the dangers of alcohol and how to drink "safer", as it is Alcohol Awareness Week. God, what a trip that was. According to the chart they handed out to everyone who attended, with my current weight I would reach the "buzz" with one drink. But after 6 drinks I would more than likely be dead or something. That's wrong. That's definitely wrong. At 115 pounds, I would reach the buzz at six drinks. Of this, I am quite sure. Math sucked. Took a test. Probably did as "well" as I did on the last one. But after this chapter, we're starting geometry. Go art math! I can't wait to get out of that class and never have to take math for the rest of my life. Those words sound golden, "for the rest of my life." I'm probably going to make an effort to finish all my work tonight so I don't have any to do over this weekend. A boring weekend looks mighty appealing to me. Oh, now I remember what I wanted to mention. In my night class yesterday, I was invited by two of my classmates to go to some Halloween party on a riverboat downtown. At first I said let me think about it. I was actually trying to find some way to get out of it gracefully because I wasn't quite sure how innocent lil ol' me would handle a crowded party with only two people I know (and truthfully I could only make an educated guess at their names), with a bunch of drunk hooligans, loud and obnoxious bands, and a full bar on the middle of the Ohio River, not to mention God knows what else going on there. And Lord knows what demon took hold of my self control and propelled me to say yes, I would go with these two people on Halloween to a place where they're not going to card you for drinks. But I'm still going. I don't know why. I don't know what I expect to find there beyond what college students call "fun." All I know is that I'm going. But this is definitely something not to mention to Mother beforehand. She doesn't really want me venturing out into the world without a cell phone, but I'm not going to wait to live my life while she idly shops for cell phone plans. So... Sam is venturing out into the cold, dark world. She is not quite sure what she will find. You'll all get this story next Friday.
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
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