There's always a pet blog

The Ludi Romani continues.

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Today was... god, it was BORING. I didn't have any classes until 5 pm and Ryter was in Boston so I couldn't talk to him, and I don't have any real homework yet; thus I sat around and was bored.

I did each lunch with Libentra and saw Loquatia, my roommate from last year, when I went to dinner with my current roommate. I've decided to call my current roommate Cellamica, from "cella," a room, especially a small one-room apartment, and "amica," friend. Room-friend. Roommate. Work with me here.

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Cellamica is Republican, but not rabidly so-- she clearly has her own opinions and isn't just spouting off what others say. She's involved in politics and keeps informed, though. She loves watching hockey but isn't really into playing sports herself, and spends most of her time on her computer. She's turning 21 in November but doesn't have any intention of even going out drinking on her birthday-- the whole alcohol culture doesn't appeal to her, which is nice for me. She's Italian, has a younger sister, a close friend of hers has just had a baby and she likes country music. That's what I have learned about her thus far. But she's nice, and quiet, but I can still have a conversation with her; she's willing to eat meals with me, too, which is nice.

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Ryter, meanwhile, is looking for a hobby. This wouldn't be so challenging were it not for the fact that he can't do tasks that require a steady hand, like drawing, because of meds-related tremors and it has to be inexpensive, relaxing, and something he can do year-round. Thus far he has pooh-poohed starting up an RPG club (unless he can get someone else to GM-- I would, I think I would like that role better than a player, but I don't know the rules of gaming well enough), learning massage therapy with me (didn't think it qualified as "fun"), candle-making (okay, so I was being a bit facetious with that one), balloon sculptures (already knows how to do it), and carpentry (doesn't have a decent workspace).

I also suggested origami; weaving; wood carving; lock-picking; making models; ghost hunting; fishing; designing, making, and flying kites; juggling; photography; magic tricks; learning to dance; biking; and 3-D puzzles. He didn't comment on any of these, although I suspect making models, 3-D puzzles, or kites might be too expensive; fishing and biking aren't great in summer; and learning to dance might be too frustrating for him to be relaxing and fun.

He listed his interests as "The Byzantine Empire and reptile-collecting." This is not really helpful. I just hope his eventual decision doesn't involve computers. Ideally it would involve dragging his butt outside. Maybe I can get him into nature walks, like learning to identify plants and shit. In the winter, snowshoeing.

Nah. He won't go for that. I suggest "outside," he cites "bears."

Hmm....

"Do not be overly judgemental of your loved ones' intentions or actions."

The doctor says my knee pain is somehow related to the patello-femoral thingy where my kneecaps don't line up right. Of course, she hasn't actually seen me since then or gotten any new information about the pain, so I think she's going with the "don't know what it is and this is a problem we know the patient has, so let's go with it" explanation.

She also says that the anemia is slightly better-- very slightly, but better. But that my overall blood count is really, really down. So either I'm being systematically drained by vampires in my sleep or I might want to consider a multivitamin with iron. Great. I hate pills. This does not bode well for my future in medicine, as as far as I can tell most doctors think every little problem should be solved with one pill or another.

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Today Libentra and I were walking back to Hubbard, down the stairs past Dimond Library, and the stairs (which haven't been shoveled, just sanded) were pretty slippery and hard to walk on. Libentra came up with a solution: she handed me her backpack, walked over to the steep, clear hill between the stairs and the library, flopped out on her belly and slid penguin-style down the hill.

It was HILARIOUS.

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I managed to loose my purse. I think it's in Philbrook-- which doesn't open until Sunday night. Great. Luckily I have all my important stuff, as it was all in my coat pockets. No, I don't know why I bother to have a purse if I put all my stuff in my coat pockets. I doubt I would have noticed that it was missing at all if I hadn't been looking for it to bring stuff home in.

I'm at home now, but just overnight. My sister and I returned to celebrate Mummy's birthday. I don't have a gift, since last weekend I wasn't really eager to go to the mall on crutches, but I'll get her something tomorrow, wrap it, give it to her, and then hopefully get back to UNH tomorrow in time to go to the Open Mic that the Writer's Circle is putting on.

We went out to a nice restaurant and the wait staff sang and gave her a cake with a candle in it, but I think that my mom wouldn't really care as long as we all came home and spent time together when she didn't have to work. I don't think Mummy ever really realized how much of a presence Shrewd and I really are before we were both gone... and while she appreciates less hair in the sink, she's basically got empty nest syndrome and the Brother hasn't even left yet.

If I Was Dead Meat, I'd Be Duck

Exotic and unusual, I am a bit of a rare bird - literally. I'm known for being soft and succulent, though at times I can be a bit greasy... weirdest quiz ever.

What Kind of Meat Are You?

"At 20 the will reigns, at 30 the wit, at 40 the judgement"*

Today is the Women's Festival of Juno. That's when married women or those who'd like to be married celebrate Juno, or Hera as she is known in some circles. Queen of gods, goddess of matrimony- you get the idea.

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So two days ago I realized that I had totally screwed up my schedule, and Tuesdays are not free, as I though, but rather occupied by Englishy, Biology-y activities. So I missed my first two classes. Oops. Way to go, Sherlock.

But it's resolved, and I've talked to my teachers and apologized profusely. Anyway, dealing with that is basically why I didn't post a real entry until today, and why there was the random not-related-to-reality post right before this one, the one about Mary Sues that you didn't have to read because it has very little to do with my life.

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Besides the Bio/English screw up, I have discovered more scheduling changes. Like I can go to the Communication Skills group after all, which is exciting and means that I will possibly actually learn to talk to boys without being all "durrrrr...." That starts in like three weeks.

Also, I can take my Latin class and get credit and all. This is good. I like credit. Especially considering that my father was FLIPPING OUT about the possibility that this would not be the case.

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Libentra's in some of my classes! This is a YAY thing because we thought we wouldn't have any classes together this semester, and consequently would go into withdrawal from each other after our blatant mutual overexposure last semester. She's taking Chem with me (she's Honors and I'm not, but hey, we get to sit together in lecture) and Latin again.

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Loquatia and I are most likely going to be going to swing dance classes, or maybe salsa, together. She wanted something fun to try when she can't play tennis. That should be cool. Except I have to play the guy 50% of the time, apparently. I can't do the guy's part, it requires actual thought.

I went to yoga yesterday, and I plan to go tomorrow. This out to be interesting. I left yoga feeling relaxed, and yet, sore, sort of like how I'd expect to feel if I'd been beaten all over by several thugs and then dosed with sedatives. How's that for imagery, professor?

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That reminds me- I have to keep a daily journal for English. This is not really a problem for me. I'm not going to write yet another journal, though, I'm gonna print out my blog, minus the really long entries with little or no relevance to real life. Like... the previous one.

I thought about recording the one beautiful thing I make a point of noticing every day, but you know, thinking about one lovely thing is nice, but if you start listing them or recording them for posterity you start to sound poetic and I think I'd be ripping off thiel's ideas of living your poetry.

Besides, mustn't reveal my depthitude. I'm pretentious and self-involved enough as it is.


*I'm kinda tempted to make a comment about 70 and the bladder but I figure that would be mean coming from someone who's still in the "will" section of life.**

**This is not a comment like saying "No comment" is not a comment. Insert me smiling here.

"Your Deeds Today Will Be Your Memories Tomorrow"

Today is the Fili Saturni, a festival to honor the sons of Saturn/Cronus- Jupiter/Zeus, Neptune/Poseidon, and Pluto/Hades.

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I am sick. My throat kills and I generally feel like I'm falling apart. This also means that while I am STARVING, I can't actually eat, because my throat's too sore. This is NOT COOL. I need chicken noodle Ramen...

I was trying to choke down lunch today (luckily there was scampi, which was soft and oily so easy to handle) with Libentra, and we were approached (in the cafeteria, mind you) by an overly bubbly salesgirl who was offering a promotional deal to the first 100 girls who signed up. The deal was for a spa in Portsmouth, and it was for a hair analysis, style consultation, design cut, shampoo, and style, deep conditioning treatment, scalp massage, eyebrow shaping, manicure, pedicure, hand paraffin treatment, face-framing highlights, color gloss (no idea what this is, sounds like they spray-paint you, or maybe your car), light therapy treatment, skin analysis, and ultra sound corrective facial.

So it's pretty pricey, right? I mean, that's a lot of stuff. I know a manicure is like $15 and a facial can be like $60... No. It was $38. For the whole thing (well, excluding tips). I mean, like, damn. Good deal. So I'm thinking I know quite a few ladies who wouldn't mind some of this stuff, like my mom, my sister, and some of my friends (Candida would mind horribly, but besides her), and since it's Christmastime and all, I figured, eh, why not, and I bought it.

Now, naturally, I'm sitting here debating the choice... because I never make a impetuous decision without debating it six ways from Sunday after the fact. But I have decided not to regret this choice. I refuse. At least not until I call the spa to make an appointment and discover that I've been scammed or something. But they have a website, which validates the offer somewhat...

Meh. Worst happens, the salesgirl uses the credit card number and robs me, and then discovers that it's got a $500 limit on purchases so it was a waste of time.

That's NOT my Christmas present, though. That's just a nice thing I want to do for people. I still have Christmas shopping to do. I can't really do it yet, though, because I want to make sure I have a job and figure out how much I'll be earning before I start spending money. And yes, I know that I'm broke and I shouldn't have bought the spa thing, but honestly, it's probably worth it and more.

Oh, and by the way, if anyone knows someone who highlights their hair (with something besides henna), someone who might want to get face-framing highlights for free, let me know. Or, you know, if you feel you particularly deserve something on the above list (and are female). I haven't a clue what some of them are, anyway, you're welcome to those.

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A new word, which I am trying to get into common usage: mythologic, n. 1. The alternative form of logic, involving much leaping, that is used in mythology. 2. An oxymoron.

This is due to two conversations I was in today, in myth class and then in latin, both unrelated but along the same vein. The first discussed the logic of Leda having sex with a man and a swan in the same night, but all four of her children- two from each father- being born from eggs. Even the mortal ones. That was in myth class.

In Latin, we're translating Ovid's "Midas" from the Metamorphoses, and in the discussion of the god Dionysus and his role, the professor mentioned the story about Semele, Dionysus' mother, dying, and how Zeus sewed the unborn Dionysus into his thigh. One of the brighter (sarcasm here) students, a young man named for a city, asked, "Wait- is that logical? Like, could that happen biologically?"

Yes, honey. It's really possible for a man to deliver a child by sewing him into his thigh. Riiiiiight. Can we get some sex ed in here, stat!?

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I was saddened somewhat by the news that Blue Eyes won't be continuing in Latin next semester. Not that I'm definitely going into the class he would have taken anyway. Blue Eyes, by the way, is the young man who sits next to me in class. His eyes are very, very blue (hence the moniker). You will find that while I name friends and girls I talk about a lot by Latin names, like "Tacita" or "Libentra," I give Native-American-esque names to the guys that I'm not friends with but talk about semi-frequently. Hence names like "Blue Eyes." Or "Incredibly Hot Guy," who's in most of my classes and lives on my floor.

By the way, Blue Eyes is a nice guy, who has actually occasionally tried to talk to me, which is why I'm kinda saddened that he doesn't like Latin enough to continue. It's not just for the eyes. I'm not shallow... all the time.

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Well, that's about it for today, I guess. I have a lab report to finish and then the pre-lab, and I have to work on that miserable poem. I'm about halfway done at this point, I think. I still need Libentra to check it over, though, and scan it to let me know if it sounds iambic enough. That poem shall be the death of me.

16 Days until Break!

"You Will Be Blessed With Longevity"

Well, it's official. Loquatia's moving out. She's moving a whole three doors down the hall. You know, for the change of scenery.

No word on Tacita's plans yet- she might still be leaving the hall. But she might not. I wouldn't mind horribly, though, if she stayed. Tacita's nice, she's quiet, and she goes to bed early, doesn't get drunk, and goes home on the weekends a lot. We're not close friends but we get along. At least that's my veiw of it; I could be her Seabass for all I know.

Of course, if she IS planning on moving out, to join her friends at Englehardt, some advance notice would be nice, so I could actually meet my roommate-to-be before January. I'm just saying.

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Anyway... the school year's winding down. Next week I turn in my last assignment for the Biology Careers lecture; there's obviously no exam in there. My lab practicals are next week too. Then the week after next is Finals: Latin and Biology on Tuesday, one right after another; then Chem on Thursday at EIGHT IN THE MORNING, an ungodly hour I have been avoiding all semester. Wrap it up with Mythology on Friday, only that one isn't in the morning as would be advantageous (so I could go home); no, it ends at three. Great.

Countdown to Christmas Break: 18 Days.

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I am, apparently, the awesomeness, due to my mastery of the art of procrastination. This was stated by Libentra when she complained about freshman who feel the need to get work done weeks in advance. She's got a kinda sucky situation with her lab group, who insisted that since they had started to work on the lab weeks in advance, long before the TA

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Me: I hope we don't start studying DNA in Bio. I hate DNA.

Libentra: Yes, well, maybe DNA hates you too. *Pause* I mean, obviously.

Me: Okay, yeah, I knew THAT was coming....

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Oh, and remember how last night Mummy and I had to turn around on the road and go back to get something I forgot? Well, I didn't get everything I forgot. Because there is this law that says Basio must forget one important thing every time she leaves the house. Last time it was my sneakers and my wallet. This time it's my mouth guard. Which is much worse, because I'm so used to wearing it that I can't fall asleep without it. And unlike most things I could have left behind, it's not easily replaceable. Grr.

This has caused me to add "proximity tags" to my Christmas list. Daddy was talking about them- they keep you from loosing stuff, like cell phones and wallets and keys and poorly attached heads...

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Guess what? Macy's wants me to interview! As in, I might get the job! As in, I might get a job! This is good!

I have to go back this weekend to interview. This is not so good. Not entirely sure how that's gonna work out. But oh well. I'm still glad they liked me enough to call me back.

They Were Out Of Fortune Cookies. It Was Sad.

It's just another Mercatus day on the Roman-holiday front. Don't worry, there's some good holidays later this week. Of course, those of you using the holidays to get out of class/work/whatever will ask, "Gee, what good is that? Thanksgiving is this week, anyway!" But oh well. Sorry 'bout that.

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My Chemistry professor, a fairly young man for whom this is his first semester both teaching, and out of graduate school, came to class with a baseball cap this morning; this was not particularly out of the ordinary, despite it's dorky backwards status, as he tends to dress on the "youthful" side. Nevertheless, the reason for the hat quickly became apparent to those of us in the front row, as bits of black hair were peeping out from under it.

Last Friday, he was a blond.

So the truth was gradually teased out of him (oo, double entendre!); there had been a bit of an accident involving hair dye, you see. He wasn't very specific. But judging by his Facebook pictures, and what I can derive as the usual weekend proceedings for this man, I have this to say:

Learn from this story, kids. Never drink and dye.

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In other news, I managed to finagle my schedule so as to have no classes on Wednesday, and I'm going home tomorrow. This means that technically I could go home with Make A Mistake and her dad at 8:30 pm tonight, if we could work it out; however, that's like five hours after my last class and Closer's going too, so the car might be a bit cramped. Instead, my daddy's picking me up somewhere between 3:00 and 5:00, depending on when his car tuneup is over.

The Shrewd One, my sister, shall be retrieved on Wednesday. My grandfather is arriving on Wednesday or Thursday. Then there shall be turkey. Much turkey.

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I'm going to be having clothing issues tomorrow, I know it. We're still conserving water here, as a part of a competition to see which dorm can be the most energy-efficient, and I figured I should wait until I get home before I clean the laundry. This is especially true because I think my dorm's winning, and we get a pizza party.

Never say no to free food, unless it's in the hands of a creepy leering guy or it's cafeteria food.

Anyway, the issue arises in that I have no socks and no clean pants. So I guess I'll smell tomorrow.

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Speaking of which, a girl I know was sitting by me in class today and OH MY GOD HER BREATH SMELLED SO BAD. It was like she hadn't brushed in FOREVER. But I couldn't figure out how to discreetly like, offer her mint gum or something, because I had just put mine in as she sat down, so it would invovle throwing out perfectly good gum on the pretense of it being too "stale" and then getting a new piece and offering one to her. And then I would have had to press the issue if she'd refused... So I tried not to breath in when she talked. But honestly, what do you DO in that situation?

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My friend Libentra (I guess I can call her that; we have almost all the same classes and consequently eat together and do homework together a lot, and I think she's introduced me as her friend once or twice) and I grabbed lunch together, which really meant that she got a glass of lemonade and waited for me to finish eating so we could go work on our Latin translation together. She eats earlier on Mondays. Anyway, Libentra and I were sitting together and then Rachel's friends started coming over... first a guy who I've met before, he eats with us a lot... then two girls I didn't know... then ANOTHER girl I didn't know... By the time I finished my cheese enchilada lasagna (cafeteria food is WEIRD), the table was full.

This is why I need to hang out with Libentra more. She attracts friends like a lamp attracts moths, minus the zappy doom at the end. Most of the time, anyway.

Alas, a side effect of a table full of people that all know each other but not me is that they try to talk to me, because I'm the new thing; I consequently have to actually talk to them, and the shyness kicks in and I start saying the one-word answers or worse, sound stupid because I'm nervous. BUT. I did talk! I had an actual conversation about RAs (two of the girls were RAs) and how they have to go into people's rooms and check to make sure everything's unplugged during the break (and the stupidity of people leaving alcohol bottles lying around). I actually contributed, not a lot but some, to the conversation and I didn't get really nervous or anything.

I'm quite proud of myself. I'll have to remember this and mention it at Group.

It's a little weird at Group, because I'm so much worse off than the rest of the kids there. They're all talking about how they can't say no or they talk too much or they don't know how to talk about the important things. I can talk about the important things, it's the small talk that gets me. And because I'm trying so hard, I almost always have something positive to report... but it's like, "I talked to my lab partners in Bio about something not related to the lab" or "I talked to a guy I know from class... outside of class!" So I'm sure the other kids in Group are sitting there scratching their heads thinking, Damn, how bad off IS this girl? But I'm giving myself positive reinforcement. I have to take life one step at a time, and if that step is the difference between a one-word answer and a five-word answer, I'm gonna celebrate it.

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But. I have to study. I have a Chem test at noon tomorrow and a Latin test immediately after it. Latin I'm not worried about, I'm better off than most of my classmates- but Chem is evilness. Next time I write, I'll be at HOME!