By that rationale, neither is anyone else’s. Let’s humor ourselves anyway.
Cut up my leg pretty bad, which doesn’t actually bother me that much but it’s a bitch and a a half to take care of, showering with one leg stuck out past the shower curtain, redressing, antibiotics, no drinking, etc. Picture in a post preceding this one.
The arm that holds the pedal on my bike snapped and gouged me right below the calf of my left leg. Needless to say that bike’s toast for a while, but it’s not the end of the world. It just spawns a new series of inconveniences.
I met some transfer students yesterday, and reconnected with some of the reasons I still love my school.
It still has a lot of damn problems though. Thing is, I graduate this year and I only have to stick around another year to get certified to teach, so most days I just don’t think it’s worth fighting the bad. Some days I do, and those days make all the difference.
Hanne’s engaged to Matt. That’s dredging up all kind of stuff that I won’t talk about here, because there’s only one person who’s allowed to hear it. I’m not jealous of Matt, but I think I am jealous of Matt & Hanne. They’re like a shmaltzy movie, the kind that other people connect over when they realize they both dig it.
In time I’ll be able to jump on the bandwagon and be just as happy for them as everyone else. Probably because deep down I already am. I love them both a lot, and it’s because they are normal people like me, but capable of incredible artistry, and not just on canvas. I’d rather be in a severely complicated friendship with them both than lose either of them, regardless of how deep and sometimes painful those complications are.
Still haven’t seen Natural Born Killers.
I hope I get to see a friend who’s in town today, but if not school starts soon.
The most beautiful, kindest thing you can do for someone is be honest with them. I truly believe that.
I venture out with a half dozen people, each more trustworthy and respectable than me on several levels. One of them goes to Harvard.
This means that, though I could be entirely wrong, there is a high likelihood that I will be remembered by any new acquaintances on this trip as “that guy who drank too much and told all the tasteless jokes.”
In the event of my death or disappearance, tell a holocaust joke at my funeral and douse the squares in cognac.