I finished Moll Flanders this evening, and my final impression was this: Interesting book. Needs more death and boobs.
Please note -- there is a lot of death in that book, yes, but nobody ever dies in an interesting or fun way (okay, well, there are a few hangings, I'll give you that), and almost every death is glossed over quickly with very little detail. As for the boobs? Yeah, it definitely needs more of those, especially if Moll is as much of a "whore" as she claims to be repeatedly throughout the novel.
With that done and out of the way, I've officially completed my list of school-related tasks for the weekend, save for reading more of Sugar Street (as I may or may not do tomorrow; depends on what sort of mood I'm in).
I have received confirmation from UPS that my hair clippers will arrive tomorrow, as scheduled. This is all well and good, but I won't have the crucial, separate guide comb I need to use with them in order to actually cut my hair. That, as mentioned before, won't arrive until sometime this week. So it appears that I will be sitting and staring at the clippers in apprehension about actually cutting my hair for the next several days, at least. Unless that guide comb arrives on Tuesday (since after I finish teaching, I'm done for the day and can come home), my hectic schedule on Wednesday and Thursday will prevent me from touching clippers to head until Friday at the very least. In the meantime, since I'll have to be out in the hot weather this week quite a bit, I'll probably just keep my hair tied back so that I don't sweat as much.
Yes, I am looking forward to confusing the hell out of my new recruit classmates and new professors. First they saw me with my crazy-long hair and the wild-woodsman beard. Now, for a few days, they'll see me with my hair tied back and most of the beard gone, except for the chin patch and mustache. Next week they'll see me with that new facial hair style and much shorter hair. I'm hoping I can make a few brains melt -- or, barring that, attract a few lovely ladies who may not be so big on the "wild man" look that I previously rocked to much success. If I start wearing my clear hipster sunglasses (which you can see in my profile picture to your right, as well as on Facebook) all the time, it'll really mess with people. Scandalous.
I have acquired several new readers here over the weekend, as evidenced by some of the hits I've gotten. Hello, folks. Welcome to my nightmare; buy my book, my cats need to eat. I know at least two of those new readers are colleagues and fellow classmates at Flat State University, and no, that doesn't bother me. I encourage it, actually. I had an online diary when I was an undergrad at WVU, as well, and a ton of my college friends subscribed to updates from it; I loved the feedback I'd get from them on some of the things I'd write there, as well. Like that diary, this blog is open for anyone and everyone to see, and I hide nothing -- not even my name -- from my readers and friends. I write nothing incriminating, and say nothing here that I wouldn't say to anyone's face. I've never been the snarky type anyway; those of you who know me well or have been reading this blog for years know that I live in a drama-free zone, and like to keep it that way.
As I told my generously-endowed-in-the-breasts-department friend (and she will know I'm referring to her when I say that) a few days ago, though, to protect the privacy of others in this blog I will once more need to come up with codenames for its cast of characters, especially those characters who actually read the blog and enjoy it. I'd rather not name anyone directly, of course, which is why the former girlfriend had the moniker of "the girlfriend" for the entire four years I've been writing here (up until recently of course, when I added the "former"), as well as in my book when she's mentioned. I do this not only to protect my friends but to protect myself -- I'm already in the very, very preliminary planning stages of my next large book project, and that will more than likely be a memoir of graduate school. It will also have a lot more actual writing time involved, as (silly me) I deleted my entire first year's worth of blog entries about it when I turned this into Soakin' Up Paycheck 2.0.
Then again, I could end up writing the space opera/time travel novel I've been kicking around in my head for a few years, who knows.
Anyway.
Changing subjects, I wonder if they'll be doing another grad student mixer this year. Last fall during the first few weeks of class, the museum on campus held what they called the "Grad Student Mixer," which was basically a party within the museum where free beer was provided. Good beer, too. Fat Tire, Sierra Nevada, etc. All graduate students from all the departments on campus were invited and we proceeded to get trashed on the university's dime. You may recall, if you've been reading this blog for a while, that I wrote about this night when it happened last year -- as it was the time where I got so drunk I would've been unable to find my own feet, and accidentally locked myself in the museum's bathroom for a few minutes because the ability to work a doorknob had escaped me.
Yeah. Not kidding. Luckily, I wasn't driving.
Anyway, that night evolved into, hands-down, one of the best college-related experiences of my life, even when counting the debauchery I committed while a student at WVU. If the museum does it again this year, I will spend the gas money to get down to Wichita (as they'll do it on a Friday evening) and will take the time to find a friend's house to crash at instead of driving back home -- after all, I am now single, and I shall mingle. I think I really need to mingle and loosen up, to be perfectly honest with you. Today I told my friend Shainna that her mother is hot (even though, well, she is), so I take that as proof that I really need to get out more, and not just to the local Walmart or gas station. Maybe I'll consult with a few friends in the department to see what their teaching/class schedules are, and set something up that would be fun to do (and would get me out of the house for a few hours). Inevitably, however, that always tends to lead to the phrase "hey, let's go to the bar!" especially between grad students...and that is a phrase I'm trying to avoid most of the time.
Yes, I understand we're grad students, believe me. But doesn't anyone just get a 12-pack -- or a bottle or two of wine -- to split between friends, and drink quietly at home anymore? Or is that too old-fashioned these days? I'd be more than happy to go to someone's apartment or home, or have them come visit me in mine.
Translation: please come visit me, I'm sick of talking to myself and/or the cats and no one else.
Ahem.
Tomorrow will be a busy day for me; no, I do not have class or teach (though many friends do), but I have a lot of other stuff to do. As mentioned previously, I do need to make my customary weekly trip to the gas station and post office, for reasons which should be apparent, and I need to get a few household items and minor groceries from Walmart and the Dollar Tree. I'm out of milk, cat litter, dandruff shampoo, bleach, and aluminum foil, amongst other things. To get all this stuff done early, I have set my alarm for 8AM so that I get up, take care of everything that needs to be done, and can get home before it gets too hot outside. Once again, as is my luck, the only days of the week it's supposed to be over 100 degrees are the days where I have to be on campus and/or otherwise outside the house. Tomorrow I just want to get everything done so that I can spend the last hours of my "weekend" in peace, going to bed early so I can start my week at 5AM Tuesday morning.
Let next weekend come quickly and mercifully, please.
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