. . . . . entries for 13.2.07 . . . . .
Okay. So. The last twenty-four hours (give or take) have been interesting.
Yesterday, I made myself abstain from napping. Ironically, yesterday was the day that this little study hit the media. Regardless: in order to stave off sleepiness, I went on a walk on the bike path and froze my fingers, and muchly enjoyed bopping to good walkin' tunes on my iPod. There is (or was) black ice on the bike path. Paying attention was critical.
I made hot cocoa when I got home, which was excellent. Naturally.
Anyway. I slept. Not enough, but then, I never do. Woke up, went to school. Mostly unremarkable day at school - Herr Carosella gave me a scholarship application, though, and I should do that. I should research that. I don't actually know what it's for. :P All day, the buzz was of tomorrow, and of school, or the very plausible lack thereof. Dear God, I need sleep. I would like a snow day.
Got home. Had maybe fifteen minutes before my mom got home and whisked me off to St. Peter's, where I had my U of Chicago interview. My interviewer was a really nifty pathologist. His office was stacked with innumerable slidemounts of tissue samples, arranged in a chaotic-yet-organized sort of way. The walls were covered in his own abstract paintings, tribal artifacts, assorted abaci, and - most of all - military history stuff. He seemed to get the impression that I would do exceptionally well at the University, and said he would write a good recommendation, and I quote - "if you don't get in, it won't be my fault."
Drove back to Niskayuna in rush hour, ate at Friendly's, went to the econ meeting. Sive was exasperated with me for forgetting everything I ever knew about economics. But I remember now. So all's well. Looks like we have adequate participation to actually do the competition, although I am still dubious, as neither Adam nor Melissa have shown any real signs of commitment yet. And I wish he'd let Max join in. Oh well.
Anyway. Got a ride home with Caitlin Horgan, promised I would never subject her to such torture again, and was intrigued to see a vaguely familiar-looking blue Civic in my driveway. Walked in, encountered very familiar white sneakers in the mudroom, and was pleasantly surprised by one Frank Ferraro, in my house with a single rose of my favorite variety and a Valentine's Day card written in Spanish (to counter mine, written in German). He is still sniffly, and he froze his hands thoroughly to drive over here and back, and he is wonderful, and I love him.
:)
come home?
.:people:.
{ting}
she looks like the real thing
{mari}
out and about
[kelsey]
THIS IS AMERICA
{yianni}
stop being depressed
{alisa}
other
[shannon]
close and far
{frank}
islands where no islands should go
[cassie]
eating knowledge
{colin}
my dm
[emily]
shoulder to the wheel
[brian]
nostalgic for fantasy
[nicole]
industry insider
{elle}
angry enviro
[matt]
never heard of miyazaki
[pirate dan]
are you reading this?
[olga]
distracted
[messiah dan]
messiah/believer
{max}
approach focus
[natalie]
wait a minute
[susan]
solitude
{greg}
manbeargreg
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.:skin:.
turtles! turtles! by araglas
(heavily modified by yours truly)