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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 Leaves Important Things Undone
I should right now be doing any number of things that need, need, need to get done. Leaving my apartment this morning, I was unable to re-lock the gate after unlocking it. My key simply wouldn�t work in the lock and I couldn�t force it and I was in a hurry and so I did the unthinkable and left the gate unlocked. So I wrote this morning on my hand the lesson that the universe seems as though it were going to try to teach me this week: Don�t leave important things undone. Followed by a list of things that need to get done, none of which, of course, I have done. What did get done today? Well, I did manage to get my lab manual for the organic chemistry lab, which necessitated going to the lab tech�s office and kissing his ass and letting him get a look down my shirt so that I might have the privilege of buying a manual outside office hours. But, God help me, as I wrote out a check, I stood�or rather leaned--over his desk and, while he was not very subtly looking down my shirt, I thought about what he might be like to fuck. And I can�t even begin to tell you how wrong this whole thought is. And not the least of reasons why is that he is not a very attractive person. And I don�t mean that he�s physically unattractive (because quite truthfully it hardly matters what a man looks like as long as he�s intelligent and possessed of a relatively short list of qualities none of which encompass physical beauty). I mean that he�s just got this kind of personality that you might not run screaming from, but that you might consider walking very quickly from, perhaps with a shudder instead of a scream. So, yeah, I think he�d not have that fumbling sweetness that I want in a man, but would rather take himself way, way too seriously. Might seriously think himself to be some kind of smoking hot Latin lo-vair. And any man who assumes himself to be some kind of superhero in the sack? Is never, never, never what he assumes himself to be. What else did I get done? Well, I actually made it to my biochemistry lecture this morning. The lecture was on enzyme kinetics, which is a topic that I actually enjoy and find quite fascinating. And so it must have taken a lot of effort on the part of my not-too-talented biochemistry lecturer to really sap all the joy out of enzyme kinetics. I mean, she has this ability to, in the course of a single lecture, simultaneously dumb things down to make them quite unintelligible and kill off any interest you might have in the subject when you walked into the lecture hall. She truly must�ve sold her soul to the devil to have this kind of skill. I don�t know how else one might acquire it. She bores at thirty paces. You can actually feel brain cells committing suicide in response to her voice. Then there was the organic chemistry lab. There were no experiments planned today as we were reviewing spectroscopy, a subject I have absolutely no talent for. None. I have not the least bit of talent or understanding for the subject. And my lab TA? Well, I�ll just say that she�s probably at least half a dozen years younger than me, and that I have one of those faces that tend to intimidate even seasoned professors. It�s not that I don�t like professors and teachers of all sorts, but I do greet new information with a lot of skepticism. (I mean, just because someone calling themselves an authority says it, doesn�t mean I�m going to swallow it.) So my poor TA�s response to me so far seems to be one of great trepidation. Which is fine with me to tell you the truth. A little fear can be a healthy thing to inspire in others. I also, before lab, had a conversation with a young woman who came up to me and said, �Do you remember we met the other day?� And I was, like, �Um. No. What�s your name?� And she introduced herself and then I remembered that we had met when x and I went to hang out with the cool subculture kids. We started talking and what stuck in my head was her telling me that she had a sophomore year from hell in part because her roommate had fallen in love with her. And I know that sympathy is a vector, but I wasn�t sure in this case in which direction and at what velocity my sympathy was supposed to go. Was I supposed to feel sorry for her, the loved? Was I supposed to feel sorry for him, the loving and rejected? I don't know. And I hate not knowing. And I also ran into x in the chemistry building. We went for coffee for a bit and talked about x things. And I know you�re clamoring for an example of an x-thing so I�ll tell you that we talked about the kinds of experiments offered as evidence in scientific journals. We talked about the application of the red queen hypothesis to insect models. We talked about vegetarian and desert sushi. We talked about whether it is strictly necessary to change the water in tofu each and every day. We talked about the Aisho-san. We talked about Mama D�s particular style of lecture and how it resembles the mean grandma playing nice. Those are x-things. I love x. I think he should change his entire personality, marry me, and take me away from all this. Except not. Max is on his way to get me. We�re going to CostCo and then to the gym. So, not that those things were on my list, but if they were, I could cross them off by the end of the evening.
More lies:
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