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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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The Demon Who Does The Fucking Reading
I. Demons, Diet, and Exercise Spoke this morning with The Demon Who Always Does The Right Thing. She is my olly, olly oxen free when life gets wonky. To give you some idea of how this works, I�ll tell you how our last conversation began: The phone rang. The caller ID said it was The Demon Who Always Does The Right Thing, so of course I picked up with a cheery, �Hello!� �Dude,� she said right off, �can I just tell you? The meat sticks were so bad.� And the meat stick reference? Was not even euphemistic in nature. The Demon and I are doing the gym tomorrow. I did the gym yesterday, but my knees were being sulky, so I didn�t do the usual killer leg workout. I may still go down to the Y (my membership doesn�t expire for another couple of days) and do some cardio, but I�m not going to lift again until tomorrow. Also? On a related diet note: Sugar-free Power Bars are a godsend. However, do not�under any circumstances�make the mistake of consuming the caramel apple flavor of said sugar-free Power Bars. This may sound suspiciously like a double-dog dare, but look at my face: I�m being serious. I would not give one of these to my worst enemy. And in related food news: Sophistica also warned me last night about something called �Old Dutch Salsa,� which is for comic value only, as apparently the Dutch have no talent when it comes to the production of Mexican foodstuffs. II. Old School So I�m almost finished registering for my spring classes. But Sublingua, you�re thinking, didn�t you tell us you graduated? Why, yes, my little cynics. I did graduate. But I�m sitting out a semester before graduate school obviously. And if I�m not in school, Max might insist that I get a job. And why, oh why, would you wish that on me? So: Statistical analysis, quant, infectious organisms, and micro phys it is. I have yet to get into a couple of labs and the biochem class I want. And I have yet to buy books. And, of course, I have yet to pay my tuition. But I was telling Soph the other night how desperate I was for a few science classes because I had grown soft over the couple of semesters that it took for me to finish up my English degree. It�s just too fucking easy to float to the top of an English class. Really. Now, I know a lot of English majors out there are unclear on the concept of how one gets to the top of an English class, so I�m going to impart that bit of wisdom to you now: To get to the top of an English class, DO THE FUCKING READING. Oh, and, also? Show up for class, you morons. (Now, I�m not knocking English majors�remember that I was one�but for the most part they�re all a bunch of fucking crybabies. Not one of them has any real reason for being, and the only reason I stayed in was because I was simultaneously getting a degree in a field that matters. However, I suppose the world needs English majors. I mean, who would compete with theater majors for wait staff positions if there weren�t English majors?) So I�m going to do a whole semester of science to toughen myself up. Hoo-ya! (Or whatever the big military idiots yell.) III. Rambunctious much? Well, no, not so much So the Apartment of Sin has been eerily quiet recently. I mean, like, I�m beginning to think that I�m living next door to a decomposing 21-year-old hottie kind of quiet. But I�ll wait for the smell to get really bad�like, can�t cover it up by burning incense bad�before I go over to check. What a note to end on, no?
More lies:
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