It's amazing what strange things come up on your iPod when you set it to shuffle and just let it play. And how strangely appropriate they always seem to be.
Finally made it to Cornell (despite my certainty that I was going to die in some horrible, dramatic, fiery inferno before I got here). Moved into the dorm. Exchanged awkward conversings with some of my floormates... or whatever the hell they call them. Had at least a dozen things go wrong in my room (including not being able to get the internet) before I finally gave up on any kind of productivity. So now I'm in the dorm's computer lab... typing on my blog... on an unnaturally soft kepyboard. *ponders*... *moves in for a closer look*...*rubs face on keyboard*... *contracts Chlamydia*... *dies*. Actually, I don't think you can die from Chlmydia. That's the beauty of the STD; you're just stuck with uncomfortable itch and a killer burning sensation for the rest of your life. Your long long itchy life.
I could type about my thoughts and feelings, or even my last few days in Lake Jackson, but I just don't feel like it right now. In fact, I feel very unsafe... in this remote little room at midnight with no surveillance or supervision. Like a den of rape. I should get some mace.
Just know this, my friends: the dorm is lovely, Ithaca is very lovely, and life seems to be OK for now. Which, now that I think about it, isn't really interesting... or informing. *shrug*... don't judge me.
... pictures will come soon.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment