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Yesterday was really busy, but I accomplished many things.
I perfected the art of reverse stalking. That is, the art of walking such that you can make other people come to you and they think it was actually their idea and are completely unaware that you orchestrated the whole thing.
*cackle*
I also talked to the Foreskin Guy who pickets out by the bookstore. Procured papers with websites and horror stories about how when an important man dies in New Guinea, they round up the women and remove one of the digits from a finger---but only down to the last digit on each finger, because the women have to tend the plants *commence wiggling of finger-stubs like gathering dirt around a newly planted sprout*
I also bought some Famous Amos cookies from some guy looking for donations for some Christian group supposedly trying to clean up the gang problem on the South Side.
My postcard to Garett has been mailed, and I smoozed a little at the Anth majors openhouse. Where, I was shocked to discover, I met this woman Fikes who actually seem to understand exactly what I wanted to study and could give me names of people in the Anth department (aside form herself) who I should talk to. Apparently this woman is associated with Anth and Gender Studies, though I'm not sure which one is her main department... probably Anth since she was at the Anth meeting instead of the GNDR one.
Blah blah blah, helpful forms, free pastries, free phone message pads, *gasp* USEFUL INFORMATION!
Getting back to stalking, I've been pondering pouncing this Caleb guy who I met first week and talked to a lot, but haven't spoken to since. I guess I'm curious to know how he's changed (or not) from first year O-week.
Also, Reg printing is eating my soul. Ten cents at a time.
Jeremy's all excited about playing Euchre (etc) at card club. He's so cute sometimes. ^^
Oh, and I want to kill the person who keeps blaring crappy techno so loud it gets through all our doors, closed windows, floorboards, and makes my fan rattle in time with the bass beat. Seroiusly, do they we can't hear it, or that we obviously must be equally rabid fans of trance-inducing beat box solos?
I perfected the art of reverse stalking. That is, the art of walking such that you can make other people come to you and they think it was actually their idea and are completely unaware that you orchestrated the whole thing.
*cackle*
I also talked to the Foreskin Guy who pickets out by the bookstore. Procured papers with websites and horror stories about how when an important man dies in New Guinea, they round up the women and remove one of the digits from a finger---but only down to the last digit on each finger, because the women have to tend the plants *commence wiggling of finger-stubs like gathering dirt around a newly planted sprout*
I also bought some Famous Amos cookies from some guy looking for donations for some Christian group supposedly trying to clean up the gang problem on the South Side.
My postcard to Garett has been mailed, and I smoozed a little at the Anth majors openhouse. Where, I was shocked to discover, I met this woman Fikes who actually seem to understand exactly what I wanted to study and could give me names of people in the Anth department (aside form herself) who I should talk to. Apparently this woman is associated with Anth and Gender Studies, though I'm not sure which one is her main department... probably Anth since she was at the Anth meeting instead of the GNDR one.
Blah blah blah, helpful forms, free pastries, free phone message pads, *gasp* USEFUL INFORMATION!
Getting back to stalking, I've been pondering pouncing this Caleb guy who I met first week and talked to a lot, but haven't spoken to since. I guess I'm curious to know how he's changed (or not) from first year O-week.
Also, Reg printing is eating my soul. Ten cents at a time.
Jeremy's all excited about playing Euchre (etc) at card club. He's so cute sometimes. ^^
Oh, and I want to kill the person who keeps blaring crappy techno so loud it gets through all our doors, closed windows, floorboards, and makes my fan rattle in time with the bass beat. Seroiusly, do they we can't hear it, or that we obviously must be equally rabid fans of trance-inducing beat box solos?
