Speak of the devil...

If we're talking routines, let's all laugh at Susannah for not only accidentally turning off her power strip yesterday, thus necessitating the re-setting of her clock; but let's also laugh at her for setting her alarm as p.m. rather than a.m. Point and laugh, people. Point and laugh.

As a result of this unfortunate blonde moment, I woke up at exactly nine o'clock this morning -- aka the time I am supposed to be at the front desk, opening up. I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying not to wake up Melissa while pulling on clothes, splashing water on my face and jamming my eyeballs with my fingers (the contacts didn't do much to cushion, I'm afraid). I made it downstairs before 9:10. Victory! Unfortunately, the lack of shower/coffee/morning routine entirely fucked with my head, and I had to make a quick trip back upstairs within the hour in order to retrieve some much-needed java.

The rest of my day has followed suit: I've said retarded things in class ("Quelles sont les qualites de Mickey Mouse?" ..."Euh...il aime son chien?"), eaten shit at lunch (poor quality, un-Circus-worthy burger with surprisingly decent fries) and failed to do any work whatsoever (including the reading for my Lit class). Although I'm amazed at my ability to take a shower in under five minutes (between the end of my shift at noon and my class at 12:30), I won't be repeating today's little joys any time soon. Oy.

I too am wedded to my Week-by-Week. Every time there is even a possibility of something happening, in the planner it goes. Without that thing, I would probably still remember when my film papers are due, but I guarantee they wouldn't be as good (because without proper prior planning, I wait to do shit till the last minute -- NOT a good idea). I also have multiple copies of my schedules -- if for some reason my planner can't come with me (my Vera purses are too small for it), my wallet still has a neatly-folded, highlighted outline of my next three weeks. Comforting.

Your weekend sounds much more exciting than mine, although I did have a startlingly wonderful revelation sometime after midnight on Saturday: Cosmic doesn't card. Not in New York, and not here. We got two pitchers of margaritas for twenty bucks, and I must say they were good. Definitely a step up from Club Quizno's, which didn't serve alcohol at all.

What is Club Quizno's, I hear you asking. Well, my dear, when good little subs go to bed and their footlong parents have tucked themselves in, their home becomes one giant tolling toaster of iniquity. The DJ pulls out his laptop and "spins" some mad Young Joc, the bouncer makes guys pay three dollars at the door and the spinning light ball goes round and round and round, trying desperately to make the entire situation seem a bit less laughable. Really, we only went in to see what it was all about. Tables cleared out, absolutely no bar and only two other "patrons" in the place. We DIED.

One of the other girls was nice enough to take this picture of us. I think the drink machines behind me are really classy. I mean, where else are we going to get this kind of a happening time?

I can't believe some dudes actually paid.


That was the highlight of my weekend (don't even get me started about the football game...Bloody John Bunting and bloody Joe Dailey). And probably my week, although the Jay show tomorrow night will give it a run for its money. I have to find a bus that will at least take us down there, even if we have to walk back in the dead of night (I'll have Nick with me, although how much protection he will afford me, I'm just not even sure).

Back to religion. Why am I majoring in this again? The lecture last week about messianism in the Graeco-Roman world just LOST me. I think I'm too dumb for this.

xxxAnnie

ps - Yes and it was amazing. I really have the urge now to buy a tube of icing just to eat it. SO GOOD. AND YET SO BAD.