Happy Birthday dear Evil Sidekick! Happy happy to you!! And then much much more happy!!

It's not for nothing that they treat it like the Mecca University. Getting to do a course there even with no strings attached is like begging entry into holy land. Anyway after all the heartache of this morning I have finally made it able for myself to take a course with no less than DC Da at Mecca University!! I'm thrilled to bits and so what if I won't get official credits for doing this its going to be worth the wait. Oh and DC Da doesn't seem snobby at all, just seems like the mad professori he should be with books strewn allllllllllllllll over his room in random cacophony to the extent that it can distract you from even the most banal conversation.
Yippieeeeeeeee. Suddenly feel like my trip to Point-C has been realized academically, finally.
I was a huge grin all the way back on Route #6 and then some more on the Blue line home.

Oh and he's one of those people who calls Serious Serious, the Horror's Center, just like the other mad boys I know.

So just take what you want and pardon the glee!!

Oho!

in the moment of angst, poverty and such, here's to Billy who has been my strength and 'cosmic rationale' this morning. Thank you Billy for

PRESSURE
You have to learn to pace yourselfPressureYou're just like everybody elsePressureYou've only had to run so farSo goodBut you will come to a placeWhere the only thing you feelAre loaded guns in your faceAnd you'll have to deal withPressure You used to call me paranoidPressureBut even you cannot avoidPressureYou turned the tap dance into your crusadeNow here you are with your faithAnd your Peter Pan adviceYou have no scars on your faceAnd you cannot handle Pressure All grown up and no place to goPsych 1, Psych 2What do you know?All your life is channel 13Sesame StreetWhat does it mean? (I'll tell you what it means)PressurePressure Don't ask for helpYou're all alonePressureYou'll have to answerTo your ownPressureI'm sure you'll have some cosmic rationaleBut here you are in the ninthTwo men out and three men onNowhere to look but insideWhere we all respond to PressurePressure All your life is Time MagazineI read it tooWhat does it mean? Pressure I'm sure you'll have some cosmic rationaleBut here you are with your faithAnd your Peter Pan adviceYou have no scars on your faceAnd you cannot handlePressurePressurePressureOne, two, three, fourPressure

i like these colours better i think.

puke a doodle doo
i bumped into something that made me want to change this outfit to what it used to be.
bleah.

Aside from hanging out with her and Dylan (with whom I have long monologues in tamil) I found new reasons for why I like going to Kellebelle's apartment today! She has the Jackson Browne 'I'm Alive' album.
Yayyyy and then some more.

funny i never saw this all these days

I carried two bags today like the Mad Hatter does often and what the Kaysee said seemed to make sense suddenly- it really helps with balance while walking.
Wallace-of-the-building is retiring this month and he had gave us a party today, meat balls and chocolate cake and African costume and all. I can't imagine how it will be when he's not there with no one to write "Tuesday-The best day of the week" on that board near the entrance. Tuesday in the Spring Sem was hell and I remember B.Almighty and Eldrum rolling their eyes everytime they read that.
M. Yuri wants to know why I don't listen to Eminem. She has promised to educate me in that area. God save this world and hers.
Oh the blasted phone quit working in the living room. Its back where it used to belong and Hrrummph.
I went to Lenny Lane today and as usually felt reassured. To the consternation of all my faculties he completely gets the Big Bad B and I'm happy to be stuck with him!!

i lovvvvve it!

All sorted out.
Actually all done and dusted, as someone would say.
I stole into my house this afternoon to investigate. I needed to know if there was a solution to my phone problem- the house phone is connected in my room and of late i have had reason to not like the situation. At all. So i looked for extension cords and other techno-gizmo things. Found a few and got to work. It didn't seem to be happening.
And then a spark in my head went off. I decided to test what was a given, or always made to appear like that. From the moment I moved into this apartment I was told that the only phone jack that worked was the one in my room.
LIES!
All lies. My investigation showed that the one in the living room, the first one I examined worked just like it should!

So now I'm feeling all jubilant and suitably avenged. Now no one needs to barge into my room or needs to avoid it like the plague.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh such a relief. You have to be here, and feel it to really know it.
But thank you, livingroomjack. I love you.

i hate that fucking phone and all the blasted misery it brings me.
anyone who has caught me in the middle of this, my profuse apologies.

but i hate that fucking phone!