This is the kind of update that gets put up after a blogger (who is after all only human) has had a stupifyingly terrible week, but not one so bad that you don't hear from him/her at all. I wrote the first spoiler out as a vent a while ago, but decided it could use some perspective. Upon receiving said perspective, I realized it's tiresome to read about others daily frets and fits, querulous moods and lolling self-pity, hence I decided to wait until I had shodded upon something subsequently substantiating a slightly surpassing slot of supplementary significance unto my sullen sultry sorries and seemlingly senseless strivings since. Sorry... alliteration is an imposturous imbibement.
Alas, the heralded significance has yet to arrive and meanwhile I have polished enough beers to yield an optimistic appraisal of the various personal straits I recorded earlier. Hopefully this is a sufficient whininess disclaimer. Anyways, said straits are numerated below:
SPOILERS! (Click to view)(1).
Parasitic infection. No clues as to origin. Older (meaning younger), superstitious part of me suspects karmic retribution. I am a walking contaminant - 2 housemates confirmed. Sleeping on trashbags on floor. Did treatment, thought to be cured, then woke up this morning with more signs. Itchy as fuck.
(2). My
major crush. After spending most of the day with her, accidently witnessed her last hookup with ex (well, up to the closed door). She wanted to track him down before she never saw him again. Relative candor towards the subject indicative that we don't quite see eye-to-eye. An old story in a new incarnation.
(3). Got entirely too drunk last night, largely in response to (2). Woke up too late to say goodbye to seniors. Walked through campus anyway. Feeling groggy and hopeless, surrounded everywhere by bittersweet happiness. Apparently unrecognizable in this condition. Not good with goodbyes, worse at staying in touch. Feel like something was removed while I slept.
(4). AC Milan 2-1 Liverpool. Not surprising or crushing, just a trivial disappointment.
(5). Good friend randomly assaulted on street. Jaw broken in two places. Didn't even bother to rob him. Don't understand.
(6). General malaise intermingled with loneliness.
(7). No-one knows.
(8). Other, too-personal-for-internet-type problems.
And the contemporary response:
SPOILERS! (Click to view)(1). This is gross. My greatest regret is that I haven't done anything sketchy enough to warrant this in the past month. If only I'd been discreetly sharing discarded hamburgers with hobos and riding wild hounds around town with hordes of toothless escorts, I'd feel a lot better about this. Anyways, I did a second treatment and signs are looking good. I am still itchy as fuck.
(2). Seriously, this is just stupid.
(3). A minor incident painful only because it's indicative of a larger trend. Sometimes I think I need to work on the goodbye/staying in touch thing. In certain cases this is certainly true, but for the most part I still suspect that it's an overrated aim.
(4). Umm... At least no shootout? No, I have nothing to say to this. It is sad and naughty.
(5). Same as (4)., but minus the lacksadaisicality.
(6). Just add alcohol.
(7). I hope you laughed at this one. Nearly deleted it out of shame, but decided to bare it forth. Also, a pretty good QOTSA song.
(8). So it goes...
So that's it. I know it's tedious but thanks for reading anyways. Hopefully it won't happen again.
Oh, and while we're being brutally honest, my first edition of Cat's Cradle... turns out it's the first Canadian edition, which at the current exchange rate means it's worth at least 6.8% fewer dollars. And that's before you take it's Canadianess into account. I found this out while looking for rare books to buy online, which quickly degenerated into looking for rare books to have masturbatory fantasies about. Here's some highlights:
This I may actually buy:
Good night!
