New Orleans, 2003
I’ve been terribly distracted with Katrina news this afternoon. I thought that it might be nice to remember some of the nice stuff about New Orleans.
I’ve been terribly distracted with Katrina news this afternoon. I thought that it might be nice to remember some of the nice stuff about New Orleans.
Hey, another semester, another hold! According to my new projections and calculations, next semester will be the last hold, which kind of sucks, because I ordered a big rubber stamp that says “you douchebags had better lift the hold so I don’t have to burn down the Alumni center” — wait, no it says “I dropped all those classes eight years ago! I’m old! OLD OLD OLD!” That usually works, we’ll see what they say. Of course, first I have to get the signature of my advisor, who is probably very tired of me charging into her office screaming hellfire and damnation.
“Take it to the mall with your proselytising!” she shouts, so I retire to the corner opposite the Jesus dude and rant for a good hour or two before remembering that all I need is a signature.
Oh yeah, this is the last semester of math! Ever! I will have beaten it! (this time I’m not talking about beating it in the sense of cranking one out in the bathroom of the local restaurant Pop! during a non-date to stay relaxed. Speaking of Pop!, they are opening a pizza and ice cream shop called Snap! as in “oh, snap!” or “snap, crackle, and constant indoctrination of consumerism.” Also, the Hollywood theater might be reopening?)
With that paperwork filled out, I apparently just have to reapply for a SELF loan for 2005-2006 again, because the U can’t be bothered to keep track of loans for which I am already approved. To reapply I will have to get my mom to fill out the cosigner business again, then fill out the forms myself, then print it all, have her get it notarized and send it all off. Then I get to call my dad and explain why I blew him off at the fair and that he needs to buy 16 credits worth of schoolbooks for me. There might be some lying on my part. I’m just saying. It might happen.
“No, Denise is not an earthly incarnation of Cthulu. Really. She’s the greatest person ever. That goes for you, too! I’m not bitter about you being an asshole at all!”
I may have to work on that a little, but I have at least a week before I have to have him in my place of employment checking out the freshman girls.
Today is Dj wrecka’s last day on the air, so she helped out Zach and I by playing all of our requests and hitting the last spot in Radio K bingo. When she played “Puppet Show” by Tulip Sweet and her Trail of Tears, Zach and I were laughing uncontrollably, and even wrecka was giggling as she rolled into the break. I might might might go see Meredith Bragg tonight, but I might restrict myself since I have been financially irresponsible this summer. It’s only five bones, though. I could ride the bus on my new U-Pass!
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