adiva_calandia

So I'm on my way back to Alaska. I caught a cab to the airport this morning at 10:30 ($49, including tip); right now it's 11:53. My plane leaves at 1:31, boards at 1:01.

The half-hour long cab ride was mostly filled with the cab driver delivering a rant that would've made Glenn Beck weep with joy. (He led off with "Do you believe in global warming?" and when I said yes, I do, I'm an Alaskan and we see the ice caps melting every year, he was off. He told me Sarah Palin was being responsible when she quit the governorship because "she didn't want to spend the taxpayers money on a buncha lawsuits." He told me he wanted "FREE--DOM -- not regulation" and ranted about the government bailout of Fannie Mae. When I said that there's a problem not just with the government backing an institution pissing away the money, but with the institution itself, he agreed, but when I asked if he thought there should've been more government oversight in that case, he yelled "LESS." There was a lot of yelling. It was frankly a little nerve-wracking, not to mention surreal. I almost asked him about tea parties.)

When I got to the airport, my confirmation number wouldn't work, and I had to make a poor United rep juggle getting me my boarding passes, and dealing with an annoyed women with two small daughters. (Cute kids.)

And when I got into Security finally, I got held up because I had been an utter idiot and left an Exacto in my backpack after some lobby display session or other. (I had also left my Leatherman Mini in there, feeling fairly sure that nobody would notice it. Maybe they wouldn't have, if not for the Exacto. WHOOPS. Now I have neither Leatherman nor Exacto. So kudos to the TSA: they are, in fact, doing their jobs right, and making sleepy stressed college kids have heart attacks into the bargain.)

I hope like hell that burned up all my travel karma for this trip, because I have a long way left to go. And in a few months, I'll have even longer -- all the way to Athens.

(Man, the worst part of traveling -- not to mention of the end of the semester -- is the constant niggling feeling that you've forgotten something.)

( And then I get into stuff that's probably more interesting to people at CMU than my f-list, but I include it here for completeness' sake. )

Assignments:

1. Acting journal (just need to print it out)
2. Text work (print out assignment 2, three-hole punch the whole shebang, turn it in)
3. E-mail Ingrid re: conference
4. Finish filling out study abroad paperwork so that all you have to do Monday is get the signature from the ML dep't and turn it in
5. "Representations of Tibet" paper
6. Return library books
7. Figure out a damn topic for final Medieval Lit paper

I find it ironic that I feel way way worse physically when I've had, like, 24 oz. of coffee than I do when I've had two mixed drinks and a beer.

So KL's birthday is Monday, and mine was Wednesday, so we're having a joint birthday party tonight. It being so close to Halloween, we've invited people to dress up. KL and I are dressing as each other.

Now, this is KL:

( Pics! )

And this is me:

( More pics! )

And this is both of us as Bad Horse Henchpokes:

( Plus our third Henchpoke, who will be joining LD and I in our Lady Star Trek costumes as Spock. )

You may notice that KL and I have some significant differences in the measurements area. By which I mean she's freaking Marilyn Monroe and I, by comparison, am . . . I don't know, Natalie Portman. (Hah. I wish.)

Which is why I'm currently wearing a bra several cup sizes too big for me, stuffed with two bandannas and a pair of socks. (My cleavage still doesn't even come close to hers.)

Best birthday party ever? Best birthday party ever.

(Apparently ES is also dressing as me for the party. Dressing as me is so easy. I have no style. I wear jeans and a shirt and occasionally Converse sneakers, and that's about all that can be said for me. Oh, and glasses, and often a sports bra + camisole. A few years ago people could've dressed as me by wearing bandannas over their hair, but alas, not really so much any more.)

Oh my fuck, I'm going to be 21 in two weeks.

Fire engine going up Forbes towards Squirrel Hill, sirens wailing, 1 PM on the dot.

ETA: Thought. Pittsburgh = zombies . . . all the world leaders are in town . . . vast numbers of law enforcement types with guns are around . . .

Somebody wants to write me a drabble about the Obamas grabbing guns off their Secret Service detail and fighting off a zombie apocalypse, right?

Read Sir Orfeo for Medieval Lit class . . .

. . . Read Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog.

Decisions, decisions.

(Last night I read one of Heloise's letters to Abelard for this class. Holy crap, HOT:

God knows I never sought anything in you except yourself; I wanted simply you, nothing of yours. I looked for no marriage-bond, no marriage portion, and it was not my own pleasures and wishes I sought to gratify, as you well know, but yours. The name of wife may seem more sacred or more binding, but sweeter for me will always be the word mistress, or, if you will permit me, that of concubine or whore.

... I beg you, think what you owe me, give ear to my pleas, and I will finish a long letter with a brief ending: farewell, my only love.

I think I know what I'm stealing next time I write a letter.)

ETA: ahahaha now we're getting into Guinevere-Arthur-[knight] stories. CHARACTER BLEED AHOY.

So I turned in my African-American Lit paper.

So I helped roomie haul most of her stuff down to her car (she's coming back here later for the rest of her stuff, and to haul mine to the house for me, but she has an interview in NYC to get to) and said goodbye.

So I leave here tomorrow morning at 6 AM.

So I've got one box of winter clothes and papers packed up, and one box of books and plays, but I still have all my other clothes and a lot of random crap to deal with, not to mention finishing the casebook for One Flea Spare.

So I really should get some food and go stop into the Study Abroad office and see if they'll let me fill out some paperwork.

So I'm feeling lonely, and a little overwhelmed still.

In a lot of ways I can't wait to go home.

The guy who played Cinderella's Prince in our Into the Woods saw me in the lobby this evening and told me I did a fantastic job at our beat poetry presentation Tuesday.

It's enough to make a girl think she's still got some acting chops.

That was not the most exciting thing that happened today, though. That distinction goes to the not-very-exciting-but-fairly-tense saga of taking roomie to the ER with what we thought was appendicitis. (It was not; current diagnosis is a particularly nasty stomach virus. She's spent most of the day sleeping and I've spent most of the day fretting and being aggressively maternal and business-like.)

The third most exciting thing that happened today was that I cancelled my housing agreement with CMU, which means I am one step closer to officially living off campus next year. More on that by the end of the weekend, when I hopefully will have the lease signed and everything.

(While roomie slept, I went to a show tonight with one of next year's housemates. "I'd like to get together Sunday so we can see if there are any last questions with the lease and get them all signed," I told her.

"What all do we actually need to do?" she asked.

". . . Well, this, that, and the other thing," I said. "Did you already do that?"

"No," she said, "I figured you'd tell me what to do and then I'd do it."

". . . Please don't ever make me do this again," I said, "because I've already had three breakdowns over it. Seriously."

Such things make me facepalm, rather, about the prospect of living with people, but I have faith in my ability to smack people into action, particularly when I'm in the same living space as them. I just hope it doesn't come down to smacking people on a regular basis. Also since when has a stage manager needed to be told to do something? Stage managers find out what needs to be done and then do it before anyone has to ask them/tell them!)

Oof. I need to go to bed. On a less RL front, I know I have a bunch of threads with people that I haven't been keeping up with very well. Mea culpa, mea culpa, but I'm not going to be getting any better at keeping up with those for at least another two weeks. I have eight or nine final projects and papers due between now and May 7th, when I head back to Alaska, plus finishing up this lease stuff and packing; things are, obviously, going to have to be prioritized.