Again, Lynnea seems to know what I'm going through, for the most part. I just don't see half of the student population at St. Thomas needing smoke-breaks ever hour on the hour. My I'm an outsider. Unlike Lynnea, I take too much time off, calling people, watching Friends and the news ever afternoon, trying a session of Intervarsity, and looking foward to the girls soccer game this afternoon, but definately not getting my reading done. I'm also running into problems with the topics I'm working on for my two big papers this semester. I need a bibliography done today, and that's what will keep my posting length in check.
So playing my little "Find Crownies" game has brought me to another level completely of social interaction - being the recipient of a cat call. I was sitting at the bus stop Wednesday afternoon when a girl that was a dead ringer for Ali Peterson (now that's weird to write) was crossing the street, and me being stupid ended up staring at her, trying to see just how much resemblence she bore. Well, she noticed, and ended up shouting "Hey baby" with a New York accent, and again, I didn't even know it was directed at me, so I looked around to see who she was talking to, and I turned back around to find her entire group of friends bent over laughing at me. Oh, and the girl in my grad program, Layla - yeah, she smokes. I expected to be deterred by a boyfriend or husband or lesbian life-partner, but instead my purely social interest was stifled by a smoldering cancer stick attached to her fingers. I'm not against smoking, just inhaling. Now that sounded like our former president.
Lynnea, give me your work-ethic, and the name of the tutoring service you're working for (man getting a job here is hard). I don't think I can jump on as a Synchro coach, if they even have the sport around here. I'll give you all my apathy, or whatever amount of it that you desire.
And as Lynnea just apologized, I too would like to say that life is not as bad as I make it seem here. It is often much worse and sometimes much better, but either way, don't think I'm a pessimist. I am, but I don't want you to think that I am. I need to get moving. How do we pick up our year books when we live twenty-hours away? Or, speaking for Molly, are in North China? Bye all.
Steve
So playing my little "Find Crownies" game has brought me to another level completely of social interaction - being the recipient of a cat call. I was sitting at the bus stop Wednesday afternoon when a girl that was a dead ringer for Ali Peterson (now that's weird to write) was crossing the street, and me being stupid ended up staring at her, trying to see just how much resemblence she bore. Well, she noticed, and ended up shouting "Hey baby" with a New York accent, and again, I didn't even know it was directed at me, so I looked around to see who she was talking to, and I turned back around to find her entire group of friends bent over laughing at me. Oh, and the girl in my grad program, Layla - yeah, she smokes. I expected to be deterred by a boyfriend or husband or lesbian life-partner, but instead my purely social interest was stifled by a smoldering cancer stick attached to her fingers. I'm not against smoking, just inhaling. Now that sounded like our former president.
Lynnea, give me your work-ethic, and the name of the tutoring service you're working for (man getting a job here is hard). I don't think I can jump on as a Synchro coach, if they even have the sport around here. I'll give you all my apathy, or whatever amount of it that you desire.
And as Lynnea just apologized, I too would like to say that life is not as bad as I make it seem here. It is often much worse and sometimes much better, but either way, don't think I'm a pessimist. I am, but I don't want you to think that I am. I need to get moving. How do we pick up our year books when we live twenty-hours away? Or, speaking for Molly, are in North China? Bye all.
Steve
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