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So I have this sticker on my car. Well, that doesn't say a lot, because I have a ton of stickers on my car (which my parents would also like me to mention is not actually mine), but I have one sticker in particular that is distinctive because it's not stuck on the bumper, but rather scotch-taped to the inside of the rear windshield for easy removal when the car is returned to said parents (they think). This particular sticker bears a message that has been greatly amusing to me from the time ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) reallydeadkitty gave me a button with the same slogan. It reads: "I'm sorry I missed church. I was busy practicing witchcraft and becoming a lesbian." Now, this in and of itself is pretty hilarious. But today while rooting through other people's AIM profiles, I discovered the following quotation, which doubtless preceded my prized button and sticker: "The feminist agenda is not about equal rights for women. It is about a socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism, and become lesbians." ~Pat Robertson Pat Robertson, you're so stupid even my car mocks you.
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Ammonia really, really sucks.
Last night slightly before 10 I was in Fitch minding my own business and waiting for various people to return from the Forge (damn class! done out of a decent meal again) so that we could watch Serenity when the fire alarm went off. Oh, heck, thought I, who can't cook this time (because I still associate fire alarms automatically with the time a certain person whose identity I will conceal forgot she was cooking a hamburger and caused a small conflagration in Currier kitchen)? And I glanced about my room for those things I needed most. Unlike most people, my Fire Alarm Necessities include heavy outerwear, shoes, and my cellphone. They did not include, say, my wallet (this will become significant later). Down, down, down the stairs I went, until the last few before the door, whereupon I became suddenly aware that due to the presence of a noxious something in the air, my efforts to breathe were gleaning very little oxygen.
Then there was a Security man with a hankie over his nose yelling things like "Currier," "ammonia," and "go." Meanwhile Prospect and Fay were also emptying onto the lawn.
Thus having identified the atmosphere as ammonia vapor, to Currier I went. But alas, I did not stay long--they threw everyone out of East and Currier too. So we all went to Goodrich. Alison did some hilarious things. It became evident that Security was demonstrating excellent head-scratching skills but didn't really know what was going on. So various people went to various places, and I ended up in the science quad, where I learned to work one of those electronic classroom setups and several of us watched Into the Woods. Which is like the Brothers Grimm as a musical on crack.
Then there was an expedition to Siskind, where I broke into the equipment room and passed out sleeping bags because it appeared that we were all supposed to go sleep on the couches in Mission. This was a certain Campus Life Director's idea of how to solve the problem of five dorms' worth of suddenly homeless students. Uh....no. But anyway. Fortunately that didn't happen because around 12:30, while we were shivering our way over to Physics to consume all their hot chocolate, Brian told us the dorms were reopened. So we all went to bed instead.
Also: fuck ammonia. You can tell it I said so. Me and what army? The entire flippin' quad. What, you don't think there are angry nerds in the world? We have all kinds. Some who will prevent your computers from working for years to come, and some who like broadswords. Your choice. Grrrr.
The Endeffekt (sorry, that's a German word, but it means just what it looks like and English doesn't really have a good equivalent) was that I found it equally impossible to be a functional human being this morning or to sleep in and actually recover some of my lost rest. Thus I missed class. Around noon I became functional again, decided I needed some exercise, and went skiing. That was good. Then I came home and looked at the dinner menu. That was bad. Should not look at the dinner menu. Should just go off the meal plan now before looking at the dinner menu makes me keel over in disgust.
This means that I have to cook now. Goodbye.
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Quick random notes to self: I think I'm running away to New York for Dead Week. Sorry, Outing Club. Thank God for skiing. Asparagus should never be served chopped. Yuck. I thought it was green beans! Should have brought my personal chef/mother (do NOT tell her I said that) to school with me. Must have Buffy...withdrawal...*gasp*. No, not like that!! But yes, innuendo may be my middle name. Or my first name. Or whatever. I am going a) aikidoing, b) skiing, and c) classing tomorrow. Afterwards every part of me including my brain will hurt. I want to go to Mississippi for spring break. No, I have not lost my mind, although you may legitimately call me crazy. It took me precisely one day off to forget how to do a proper sword cut. This does not bode well for my future in aikido. Also, I am a klutz. Can I have a crossword puzzle yet? Alabama makes Zach sound like a redneck, and Mississippi makes him sound like a chipmunk. I'm wondering if it's the atmosphere, the cell service, or an intentional personality thing. Betting on the last. I want to be Emily Saliers when I grow up. Current Music: indigo girls--chickenman
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I finally got around to buying a ski helmet today. One that actually fits. My head feels safer already. I decided last winter, after smacking mein Kopf extremely hard on the icy hill, that while helmets look dorky, particularly when you are not a thirteen-year-old boy doing freestyle snowboard tricks, heads hurt worse. It's just plain gray, so if anyone has amusing stickers they want to suggest, be my guest. I also bought a ski bag, after rummaging around for twenty minutes trying to find one (this was at the Pine Cobble Ski and Skate Sale, which, if you have not been, is quite the experience), eventually located under a table. I don't know if there was a leak in the storage unit or something, but I managed to get rust up and down the edges of both skis when I stored them without a bag this summer. Now: bag time. Next month: sharpening time.
I'm also approaching the point of having read all the significant portions of the books on the Amish I've currently got checked out. And I've requested five or six more articles via ILL. Research is progressing. Goal for tomorrow and Sunday: write at least five pages of the ten-page installment. The whole thing would be nice. At least five and a full outline, though.
I've decided I'm taking next weekend off. It's Homecoming; it will be impossible to get any work done, and hopefully I'll already have done all my work anyway. Especially if Smith would get around to giving out his paper topics already (paper's supposedly due a week from today; he told us yesterday in class that he'd email the as-yet-nonexistent assignment to us today, but alas...), and maybe the last set of papers so we can see what he wants....
All right, I've grumbled enough. To bed with me.
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