Feeds:Ash Wednesday, Sixth Week
"Euclid said there are infinitely many prime numbers. He proved it. I checked the proof." -Babai, 01/05/2005
"This is not for the uneducated."
That's how you begin an album, my friends.
"This here is from the neck up, a bubbling cauldron full of though; solidify emotion, cough it up, and this is what you got. This is what you're gonna get. I half talk this trash for the fun of it."
If I were of a sort ("si generis sum") to give title to to my ramblings, this one might well be titled "COMFORTING DUST". Or, possibly, the SoulCrate quote above.
"Man, remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."
This week, so far has been one of troubles. First, remembering that not only do I have homework to make up from the Festival, but I also have to study for a midterm. Next, Tricky goes missing. Not remarkable until one realises he missed going to dinner with Alice and her mother -if Patrick were a variable, such a value would be completely outside of his domain. (Like I said, I was studying.) Alice was very worried; I felt bad about my repeated "If only one of roommates died, I'd have a double" jokes. Also, Amanda (the RA, not that Amanda) seems unable to follow what may be one of my few pieces of genuinely 'good' advice; I fear she may end up making bad decisions in the end. If her will is strong, she'll be fine, but.... why risk it? Why tempt oneself?
So then Patrick returns, and has a legitimate, if not a pleasant, reason for being absent. (Not for not calling though.... What, did you think he'd gett off scott-free?) Anyone seen the Tribune? For today? Ash Wednesday?! GRRAH!
Until now, I never had anything against the media. They were alright sorts, in my mind. But I ask you, who. runs. a story. ruining. the career. of a priest! on. Ash! Wednesday! Not cool, yo. Now I'm certainly not getting a subscription.
Now, in fact, I'm making pudding. Culinary aberration-style puddin'.
Oh, and then I found out that the paper I thought would be due Friday.... would be due today at ten-thirty in the antemeridian; that is, class time. I had only three hours of sleep the night before, and between that and coming out of the Festival, I needed to sleep. So I slept. And then I effectively hit snooze. A bunch. Consequently, I was without enough time to complete the paper on schedule. Imagine me saying "Argh" in a dry, detatched manner at this point.
"So I slipped and broke my halo made of Play-Doh; you believe yours is real just because they say so. But I'll fix that stitch with a piece of tin foil: you do the same [bit] and swear that you've been loyal."
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