Thursday, June 30, 2005
I considered, for about two minutes, attending Deutschkurs, aber habe ich kein Lust. So da. Gestern hat meine Lehrerin gesagt, wir sehen heute einen Film, und dann habe ich gedenkt: nein. Deshalbs, ich komme jetzt zur Bibliothek zu lesen. [I love writing in broken German.]
I took this coming weekend off from work, in order that I might not work. Sleeping will probably not take place, but I might vacation to a pizzeria or see a movie with someone on the paycheck due me tomorrow. It will be a time, after finals, for not thinking about anything in particular.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 8:51 AM]
The Downward Spiral Has Pretty Pictures On Its Walls
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
The last day of class falls Thursday, with the Latin final on Friday and German at eight in the morning Saturday (which gives me an excuse to play hooky from that work shift, heh-heh). I need to find a reliable person from Latin class with whom to meet in a study-buddy group, for I missed a day last week wherein we were to have translated a couple of epitaphs. I love epitaphs, but I loathe participial forms.
Something in the air aggravates my neck, when I perchance venture into the outside world (beyond my dorm hall) for class or ellipticizing at the Rec. As with anything else that plagues me, I ignore the itching sensations and inwardly hope my neck doesn't fall off.
When I grow up, I would like to author a death book, in any context. The ones I read currently are fascinating and hilarious.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:47 AM]
My Mouth Tastes Like Pizzeria Pretzel Combos
Monday, June 27, 2005
After translating part of a letter by Seneca, I shall write the little paper about gladiators. Then it will be rec time. Then it will be reading time. Then it will be bed time.
I found few decent depictions of gladiators, with exceptions for the following:
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:28 PM]
Oily Yesterday, Shiny Smoothness Today
Last night at the rec I spied Tim, Sharada, and Matt (literally half the Classics graduate students) climbing the rock wall, it being adjacent to the machine I prefer. They being the most congenial ones, I climbed down (the stairs) with salutations after I finished ellipticizing, chatting with Sharada for about half an hour as I cooled down. She also kindly provided me with the assignment I missed Friday.
Tim (Mr. Knight) TAed two classes I took this spring, Matt (Mr. Underwood, which, of course, leads my mind to "Undertaker") TAed the classical mythology class and is to be my Greek instructor this fall, and Sharada (Ms. Price) TAed mythology and is my instructor in Latin both summer semesters. I greatly anticipate Greek, especially learning to write it- adapting to a different writing system was part of the Spaß of Japanese.
I read quite a bit more of Spectacles of Death in Ancient Rome last night before bed time; if I don't finish today, I should still have ample material to write the two-page paper Sharada requires Tuesday as two replacement quiz grades. I added some writers from the author's footnotes to my "must-read" list, which challenges the books already on my shelf that I have not yet read. I must plough through them, first. I managed already to misplace The Aeneid, which I had almost finished- it would have taken another day. Oh, well.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:10 AM]
Live Aid: Far Cooler Than Live 8
Sunday, June 26, 2005
I tore through very little of the book last night- Ich kann nicht konzentrieren! The inability to focus is ruining my life... to be dramatic.
In 270 [BC], 300 or more Campanian troops who rebelled and took over Rhegium in South Italy were sent to Rome, paraded into the Forum, bound to stakes, scourged in public, and executed by having the back of their necks cut with an axe.I find it unfortunate that I am capable of falling asleep through this enlightening, enrapturing book about death, blood, and killins. Ich bin enttäuscht. Total enttäuscht!
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 11:41 AM]
Perhaps Another Time
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Erin (who works in one of the other departments) mentioned at lunch she would be going swimming afterward, which sounded, oddly, like a splendid idea to me, though I lack at the moment any bathing suit. However, she warned the lifeguards enforce a policy that actual bathing suits must be worn, which is understandable enough; thus, I instead took a shower and traveled to the library to pay tuition bills.
Now I shall journey forthward to the coffee house contingent to the east border of campus, wherein I shall read and take notes from a book about the deaths of Roman gladiators. The author is a professor who lectured on ancient sports and public spectacles, writing his book some years after having been asked by a student one day, 'So... what did they do with all the bodies?' (in reference to gladiators, executed criminals, animals killed at the Colosseum, et cetera). Romans generally cremated their dead, as is well-known, but how they disposed of the thousands killed daily at the Colosseum is a legitimate and interesting topic for study, that apparently has not been analyzed in depth until relatively recently. Anyhow, this is the subject with which I shall entertain myself for the next few hours.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 1:28 PM]
Wahnsinn!
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Last night the staff met to arrange July schedules; mine ought to prove more convenient, for I now work less on the weekends, with a greater amount of time in the office during the week, at which times I may study. This semester I worked far too many weekend hours; I alotted myself little recovery time between shifts. It zombified me.
After the meeting MeShawn, a boy named Scott, and I convened at the library to cohere our German project about the role of the Swiss military. What does the Swiss Army do, exactly? The following was our answer:
..........I created an outline handout, entitled, "Zwei Tausand Jahre in Zwei Minuten: Schweize Geschichte" (Eike came by as I studied it this morning. He glanced at the title and sort of tapped his foot at me: 'Unprecedented adjectives.' I looked at him quite blankly, with absolutely nothing to respond, until he said, gently, 'Schweizer Geschichte'. He then left for his Spanish class, calling out wittily behind him, 'I'll see you in 2301 [the class he teaches next semester]'. Pssh. Gag me with a spoon.). The outline runs thusly:
100ishRomeHelvetiansmilitaryroadsI provided additional information, but that was the gist.
BurgundiansCharlemagne
1291charterdefeatHabsburgs
freefromHolyRomanEmpirefrightenedbyFrench
TreatyofWestphaliaNapoleonignoresneutrality
CongressofViennaFederalState
industrializeddirectdemocracybypopularreferendum
defendLiechtenstein
noteatenbyAxis
nosupranationalpowerorganizationbinge
2002UNArmyXXIreformbillionscut
Between the end of this work shift and my little ellipticizing session, I shall read and conduct research for the gladiator paper. Das macht Spaß.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 2:57 PM]
The Same Stuff Over There
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Yesterday I ellipticized thirty minutes prior to classes and a full hour right before bedtime, which is the most I have ever done in one day. Because people crowd the circuit and weight rooms, I have avoided them, but I suppose if I want to make more headway, I ought to hobble my flabby self over there more often.
Now that I've built endurance somewhat and have established a semblance of routine, working out has become less of a trial. "Like" is too strong a descriptive word for this ellipticizing business, but I do feel better afterward. I enjoy playing racquetball, especially as it requires little major exertion, and would like to add Rebekah and Jenni to the group for mehr Spaß. Taking also the swimming class Tuesday and Thursday evenings this fall ought to nicely supplement my other newfound athletic activities. Ja, ich mag mich krank.
At the food court, Rebekah caught sight of me getting a drink- she returned from the K-hole for summer school, but we had not seen each other this entire time, for we both busy ourselves with Schule und Arbeit. We ate mushroom pizza and discussed our anxieties for about half an hour before parting, she to study and I to avoid studying. I mentioned I had contemplated the consequences of taking off a semester somewhere prior to graduation, if only to rest my over-wearied mind. Alles tut mir weh. I probably won't, but the thought did occur to me for more than two seconds...
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 11:55 AM]
Marijuana-Flavoured Lollipops
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Last night, as I lay abed, some unidentifiable bug chirped continually from the general direction of the other bed. Two thoughts occurred in rapid succession: The singers usually don't have fangs, do they? and If he decides to leap over here to keep me better company, whatever I do, I must not scream, because the autistic/epileptic/Down's syndrome/blind kids down the hall might flip out. At least half an hour passed before I finally fell asleep, for I lay there, alternately giggling and admonishing myself for lacking a soul.
The German exam tomorrow has approached quite more rapidly than the first, but Berna assured everyone the material would be basic, as we did not cover the last two chapters in depth. I took a Latin quiz today that Sharada informed everyone as to the details of yesterday (after I had vanished during the break), but I knew the translation sentence, and I knew all but one of the genitive uses (the one I forgot, of course, became obvious only afterward). About Latin I am little concerned, but my "A" in German is marginal, which must be remedied so that I may study that much less for the final exam. I suspect, at the same time, I put myself through anguish for nothing- the project grade is almost assuredly an "A".
I told Eike, 'I quit school'. I told MeShawn (the girl with whom I am doing the German project), 'I quit school'. I told Bianca, 'I quit school'. I told Aaron, 'I quit school'. Es tut mir weh.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:35 PM]
No Time To Say, 'Hello'
Monday, June 20, 2005
On four hours of sleep I arrived punctually for my six o'clock morning shift at the office, reading through a goodly chunk of The Aeneid before then parsing verbs from the Latin passage I translated last night. However, I parsed neither the verbal nouns nor adjectives, both of which I now have reason to believe were included as part of the assignment. It counts as a quiz grade, but if I do score poorly, I am afforded the opportunity to redeem points with a mid-sized research effort on some as-yet undetermined topic, due sometime before the last day of class.
I might write on either sport at Olympia or the evolution of the gladiatorial system, both of which I became interested in after having taken the ancient sports and public spectacles course last semester. In particular I find amusing Julius Caesar's transformation of the gladiatorial combat role from that of strict funerary commemoration to its more popular use as blood sport. Also, I thoroughly enjoy gladiator gear: the helmets and bindings made participants look like giant, aggressive insects. If I ever had had to fight someone in such a get up, I would have been killed immediately, for in a fit of laughter I would have dropped my own weapons and shield, both leaving me vulnerable and instigating vigorous, murderous antagonism from my opponent, had he any initial qualms about killing me.
I remained attentive through German, but I dozed off during the translations in Latin, so when Sharada dismissed us for a ten-minute break, I reluctantly, but relievedly, vamooshed [commas, I love thee]. Thus begets my reflection on the extra-credit assignment, for I might require it ever more greatly now that I perhaps missed another quiz this afternoon- the likelihood that Sharada assigned an in-class group quiz project in my absence is half in my favour, half in hers, with her half weighing more. Natürlich.
This Thursday and Friday groups in my German class present various final projects, for which I and two other people are researching the Swiss army, for, as one of our group members aptly expressed this afternoon, 'Do they remain neutral because they've all got guns and ammo stored under their beds?' I forward that we designate such statement for thesis and gather pertinent information posthaste. I, for one, want to mention Zwingli somewhere, if only for the satisfaction derived in saying, 'Zwingli'.
I ellipticized around eight this evening, which significantly reduced the bloated feeling by which I had been possessed prior to taking a fitful nap after weaseling out of Latin [awkward sentences, how I do love thee]. I ought to return now to the dorm room zu schlafen, to be ready for arising at six tomorrow in order to sweat out a pound. Then I'll have about two hours before German to conduct research or to read further The Aeneid.
I am a busy bee.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 8:05 PM]
Are You Computer Savvy?
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Ich kann nicht schlafen. Das saugt, weil muss ich um sechs Uhr am morgen wecken auf. Quatsch. Und jetzt trinke ich ein Diet Coke mit Limone... bin ich dumm? Ja, stimmt.
My problem arises from having risen for a shift from six this morning till noon, at which time I consumed a midday meal, sat around wasting time for a while, then took a nap until three-thirty. Around four-thirty I ellipticized for about forty minutes, then ate a (light) dinner with Josh-from-the-office.
Ich trinke nicht gern Wasser, aber ich werde rot zu lang... deshalb ich muss mehr Wasser und weniger "soda pop" trinken. Das saugt.
I journeyed to the minimart I worked at last semester for drinking material, wherein I found Jenni, managing the business alone, so I remained to keep her company. Perusing the university newspaper, I read aloud the following ad:
COVERGIRLS PHOTOGRAPHY is seeking attractive, open-minded model candidates to submit to numerous modeling assignments. $7500 to $15000 per assignment. 796-2549.I love reading between the lines.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 8:53 PM]
Kiddo, Your Mother Is Crazy
Ich bin lebensmüde. Mein Kopf tut mir weh, und ich habe ein Augeschmerzen (Eike laughed at me, but I assured him it is quite possible to suffer from an "eye-ache"). I did spend the majority of the morning dicking around on the computer, which made time pass relatively quickly, for there remains approximately two and a half hours more to whittle down, somehow. Ich möchte zu lesen, aber ich kann nicht konzentrieren (I finally remembered how to type umlauts- das macht Spannend). I've been typing a list of German Adjektive, to boost my Vokabeln, which I could, perhaps, continue, though I truly desire nothing more than sleep at the moment.
Alles tut mir weh. Ja, stimmt.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:15 AM]
Latin Est Gaudium... Et Utilis!
Friday, June 17, 2005
A poem by Martial:
hanc tibi fronto pater genetrix flacilla puellam
oscula commendo deliciasque meas
parvula ne nigras horrescat erotion umbras
oraque tartarei prodigiosa canis
impletum fuit sextae modo frigora brumae
vixisset totidem ni minus illa dies
inter iam veterus ludat lasciva patronos
et nomen blaeso garriat ore meum
mollia non rigidus caespes tegat ossa nec illi
terra gravis fueris non fuit illa tibi
This girl, my pet and my darling,
I commend to you, father (Frontus), mother (Flacilla),
Lest wee little Erotion shudders at the black shadows
And the monstrous mouths of the dog of Tartarus.
She was about to complete the colds of only a sixth midwinter,
If she had not lived as many days too few.
Now let she, playful, play among the old protectors,
Let no hard turf cover her soft bones, not for that one,
You will not have been a heavy ground: she was not that to you.
The final line translates awkwardly; Martial probably trusts some material to inference. I interpret "she was not that to you" as some indication of the lack of meaning in her death to Martial's parents, who apparently had not known her well. Murkiness surrounds the meaning of "you will not have been a heavy ground", as well, but I suspect it reflects, perhaps, Martial's desire that his parents participate more directly in Erotion's development (he calls them her "patrons"). Sharada mentioned she found no translation on the Internet, and she had not had time to scurry to the library before class to solidify the translation.
Yesterday I translated a passage detailing the murder of a man by his slaves. The most important information I gleaned: verenda contundit means "[one of the slaves] crushes [the master's] private parts".
Ich liebe Latein.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 11:54 AM]
Beige Shoes On An Empty Stomach
Thursday, June 16, 2005
A few days ago I began reading The Aeneid in preparation for the translations I shall render in Latin next semester. Es ist sehr lang. I read more this morning as I awaited the inception of mein Deutschkurs, aber ich war zu müde zu konzentrieren. Eike takes Spanish from eight to ten, providing a welcome distraction from mein Kampf mit der Aeneid [I am aware those are nominative endings, but let us not get too technical] during his class' intermission. Today I learned that Eike's shoes sell for about a hundred Euro in Deutschland, but around fifty-five dollars in Amerika; today Eike learned that I think most girls who pay for tanning salon services pay inordinately for something that only makes them a darker shade of "ugly".
I had considered doing something constructive during my office shift, but, as noted above, I am too exhausted to concentrate. Any information I might attempt [subjunctive, oder "Konjunktiv" auf Deutsch] to cram into my squishy head would only remain unprocessed. I suppose I could study the final forty-five-ish minutes, completing work in the dorm room as my laundry washes (working out causes the pile to rise far faster than it has previously).
From this position I count three (3) croquet mallets, eight (8) straw-bristled brooms, one (1) hammer, and four (4) volleyballs in the "game/miscellaneous crap" closet... at the next staff meeting I shall forward the idea of collating these elements into "funness".
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 2:21 PM]
The German Countryside
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
I bought a used Alice Cooper album the other day, to which I listened as I ellipticized. Not having heard "School's Out" for many moons, I replayed it several times, resulting in an elated mood that promptly deflated upon my return to the dorm room, where I probably found something to avoid doing. But yesterday I accomplished the major things I had set out to do, and this morning I am well at ease.
After taking and quite probably failing a Latin quiz for which I had not studied, I visited Sharada at her office for an hour to unmuddy the murky waters in which my translation notebook lies [I keep using "in which", "wherein", "by which", "within which", because those are everywhere in Latin sentences; the quantity of imperfect and pluperfect tenses in my English has also risen]. Afterward I completed corrections to the German exam (I made an 86, but she offered a third of the total missed points for corrections) before playing racquetball with Bianca. By that time I was too exhausted to make a worthy opponent. If the ball did not come directly to me, I did not hit it.
My morning office shift began at three- between then and Deutschkurs, ich habe sieben Stunden zu studieren. I shall spend most of that time retranslating Latin passages, as per Sharada's suggestion.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 1:27 AM]
Shakes Spell "Badness" For The Dehydrated
Monday, June 13, 2005
Bianca reads information about Cuba and Honduras from her Espanol textbook as I type; officially, revolucion is my most favourite Spanish word. Bianca teaches me about strange, new things: for example, "moving"- to me a foreign concept that I am now learning via our racquetball practices. We pass the tennis courts as we head to the racquetball-playing facility (the campus student recreation center) and have considered beginning tennis sprees as well (at times nocturnal).
I would like to initiate a Texas Tech University croquet team, but first, I must learn to play croquet. It correlates to my scheme to live in Japan- first, I should probably bother to learn the language. Well, I'll consider that, after mastering the three others, plus English, which I neither speak nor write as well as I ought, either. My writing is so vacuously pretentious, it even gets on my nerves.
A young man, who works in my hall, the other day, upon viewing my room, asked rather simply, 'So... what do you do?' [commas interspersed inordinately, I am aware] He had noted my lack of television, stereo, computer, iPod, car, et cetera. Troublingly, I believe I spend more time planning for things than doing those things. Yesterday, for this time I had planned that I would be studying for Latein, from which I have obviously been side-tracked.
I did go by the bank for to determine the reason my loan has not been dispersed, then I did call The Father about the income verification he needs to send as resolution to that problem. He accepted my phone call rather tersely; I could not ascertain whether he was simply busy (I called him at his place of business) or behaving in puerile (if I'm paying so greatly to take Latin, I may as well use the vocabulary) manner.
When upset with something I have done (or have not done, or had no idea I was supposed to have done, or was supposed to have done according to him), rather than inform me directly, The Father plays the "I'm-going-to-ignore-you" game. He all but hung up on me this afternoon, which I doubt I might be blowing out of proportion in light of the fact that in the last e-mail I sent a few days ago in reply to something he wrote me, I had responded quite angrily to an attack he made upon the Kourys. They can't help being kinder than he- nearly everyone is. He can't very well browbeat everyone on the planet.
Lauree will not rant, Lauree will not rant.
Good Lauree.
Study time.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 2:29 PM]
My Best Porno Mag
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Bianca and I made an explicit trip to the dreaded Wal*Mart in order to acquire sunscreen for my lobster face and the film "Stripes" for her father. That was all to preoccupy my life this afternoon.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 1:44 PM]
Runs Hotter Than A Volcanic Mountain
Friday, June 10, 2005
Meine Freundin, Crystal, and I coordinated our fall schedules to take an introductory ethics course together, which greatly pleases me, for I have not had a class with a buddy yet (unless I count Matt, the archaeology guy in my logic class last semester, who dropped without telling me; to no one else had I then to giggle between). This fall also shall I take a German culture course with Jeremy (to whom I keep forgetting to e-mail the poems I had promised...), and the Latin composition class with Adrian, who I consider at the moment "an acquaintance with excellent friend-potential".
The summer far outshines the entire past academic year. Work irritates my co-employees, but I prefer sitting through boring office shifts and contending with obnoxious guest residents to serving food at the campus minimart. Berna and Sharada teach quite well, and with more time to study, I feel much better about my language classes. For German, in particular, I fell far behind last semester- I never memorized the principal parts of most verbs, I hardly reviewed basic vocabulary, and I forgot grammar rules after every test. Exaggerating a little (I did get an "A"), the letter grade does not directly relate skill level.
Existentialism | 70% | ||
Apathy | 50% | ||
Utilitarianism | 50% | ||
Justice (Fairness) | 50% | ||
Hedonism | 50% | ||
Strong Egoism | 45% | ||
Nihilism | 45% | ||
Kantianism | 40% | ||
Divine Command | 0% |
What philosophy do you follow? (v1.03)
created with QuizFarm.com
Hard-core existentially-inclined person that I am, "ellipticizing" routinely improves my oft-fickle state of mind, despite not having lost any real amount of weight thereby. I usually listen to Rammstein erstwhile, which somehow feels appropriate. The other day I sweat out two pounds, oddly, playing racquetball with Bianca (I promptly drank it back again: soda pop kills).
Everyone working uses their meal plans in the dining hall; hilariously enough, most continue to eat there, even as the food gradually rends our digestive systems asunder. I hope to incur enough irreparable damage that I may sue this school for all my good health isn't worth.
Study time, then bed time, for tomorrow I must work, donate plasma, and make a racquetball-playing appointment.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:34 PM]
Split Ends Again
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Having a fat day, I decided to forgo both classes in favor of conjugating German verbs for awhile, then reading the two chapters in preparation for the online assignments I am to complete this evening. I did the elliptical machine-thingy for half an hour, ate breakfast, and took a fifty-minute shower, somehow (I spent forever shaving the bikini line no one sees). After working this afternoon, I am scheduled to play racquetball with Bianca again. Then I might remain at the rec center to ellipticize again before going to bed.
I fervently wish I wasn't such a bore.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 10:15 AM]
Plenty of Pliny
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Ich bin nicht muede... das ist unnatuerlich... I slept at most four hours before awakening for an office shift at three this morning, but I do not yet feel drained. Normally by noon I am quite sluggish. I suppose I ought to take wise advantage of this unexpected energy- thus, I have brought Hausaufgaben fuer meine Lateinkurs, und auch ein Buch- der Aeneid von Virgil.
I like The Aeneid thus far- on the first page Hera got mad and swore vengeance upon those transgressing her precious Carthage. Das gefallt mir.
When filling employment application forms, in the space marked "non-relative, non-former-employer referral", I usually put down, in the following order: April's mother, the lady whose son is friends with Eddie Bob, and the professor sponsoring the community college advertising club. Apparently, when I filled applicant information for Wells Fargo over a year ago, I misread something and wrote April's mother's name and address somewhere that asked for information about a third relative. It makes no sense that the bank would ask for a non-relative, but then, I am admittedly lacking in the logical reasoning department at times. Anyhow, The Father took note of this as he reviewed the loan application before signing it. He wrote an e-mail I received this morning, in which he stated that, though I might like Kenny Koury to be a relative, putting her down as one would constitute fraud, which would make my ability to get a loan anywhere in the future a tremendous difficulty indeed.
Infuriated, I wasted about an hour and-a-half of study time (I had a Latin test today) during my shift, typing a scathing response to The Father's latest attack on the Kourys. He whines that I'm "abandoning the family" when I accept the Kourys' hospitality, which is unspeakably childish of him. If he is led to such irrational anger, perhaps he ought to make himself more appealing. My sister's boyfriend, Matt, came to our house all the time to play the Playstation, watch movies, eat dinner, et cetera, which The Father never considered unnatural or bothersome. I perceive my relationship with April's family no differently, and his ridiculous jealousy thus further confounds me. His view of family and friend relations is completely out of whack... yo.
Ich muss Latein studieren.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 11:29 AM]
Wrap This And Schmoke It
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Christina; her friend, Johnathan; and I journeyed across the street last night to Arby's, whose "Market Fresh" wraps and sandwiches are doubleplusgood (I study languages, yet conceive no adjective for a sandwich more descriptive than "doubleplusgood"... perhaps I should quit school).
I told them about the bra I found a few weeks back that had excellent hat potential, but discerned that they felt I was speaking from the arse when I stated I would wear it out. Thus, I am wearing it right now, in the library computer lab. Most people either don't care or haven't noticed, which is fine, but earlier I did walk by one girl at the Union (the building with the campus bookstore, food court, ID office, post office, et cetera), who burst out laughing as we passed. That pleased me, for I do enjoy causing minor scenes.
I ought to lose more weight if I want to be "weird" again, though, for these sorts of things arouse a better effect when one is also "cute".
Whelp, now it is nearly time for Deutsch class. I hope I lose the lethargy from last night's food engorg[e]ment.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:31 AM]
This Is A Page Separator
Monday, June 06, 2005
Yesterday afternoon I napped, vanquishing the headache, but off-kiltered my sleep schedule; I could not fall asleep until after one in the morning, but arose again at four to prepare my hideous body for work at six. Sleep deprivation plus The Father aggravation equals a cranky Lauree.
The Father has avoided cosigning for the private summer loan I am attempting to undertake for almost three weeks. He claims a Stafford ought to cover my remaining tuition, but I was not awarded a summer Stafford loan. He repeats that he wants confirmation through the financial aid office, indicating that he will call them himself, which is perfectly fine... but he has not done so. Meanwhile, I had to get an extension loan, because the tuition due date passed already... this afternoon I informed The Father he needs to make a decision- it's all the same to me whether he wants to cosign or not, but if he doesn't, I immediately need to find someone else who will.
Frankly, I am too stressed ninety percent of the time to think through certain things properly. Preoccupying myself until death is essentially all I've done the entire year. I didn't come down to Katy in major part because I'm so empty now that it's really rather embarassing, even more so than gaining the freshman... nine hundred. Telling everyone I could not afford the bus/trip expenses was much less than half true.
Oh, well. The current attack plan is to remain in Lubbock, the armpit of America, completing the philological background for my classics education. When I graduate, unless I receive grants immediately, I might have to teach for a while before graduate school. After several stressful years of that work, I'll elope with Kermit the Frog to some foreign country, where I shall either continue classical research or become a moderately successful prostitute.
I must vanish for dinner with Christina, who will distract me until bedtime.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 2:36 PM]
Prone To Anal Hemorrhaging
Sunday, June 05, 2005
The morning check-in process for three conferences hurt my head- by the end of my two shifts (6:00 a.m.-12:00 p.m.), I had developed an intense stress headache. The following several paragraphs consist of a detailed account of what I did all morning...
In order to get into the building, people need access cards, and then they also require a key, naturally, for their rooms. Normally, these items are neatly packaged in little envelopes; I check off Johnny or Sally's name; Johnny or Sally promptly leave my window and check themselves effortlessly into their rooms.
For one of the conferences, I had neither a roster nor the key packets. First alerted to this slight problem at nine, when a young man desired to check-in, I called my supervisor's cell phone, which he did not answer, then called his other cell phone, which he also decided not to answer. He later told me he had been sleeping and did not receive my messages until one, long after he had already come to the office. Fantastisch.
Thankfully, they were all very meek scholar students, who accepted my movement from initial bafflement to an authoritave, take charge attitude suitable to my post as an almighty Conference Assistant with equanimity. They were all very nice, very Asian, and had very warm, Asian parents. I half-hoped they would find me cute enough to adopt.
Anyhow, I had temporary access cards for the building the girls were in, but the guys will have to wait outside the doors for people coming out, in order to walk into their building (but hopefully only through this evening). The cards they need have their meal plans, as well, which meant I had to inform the dining hall upstairs that these people were coming; they would be hungry; they had paid; please feed them. I had no names, no room assignments, but I at least determined what rooms were to be occupied from peeking into my supervisor's box and scanning through various sheets of correspondence therein. The students apparently come from different organizations and have never met their roommates, but they fortunately all recognized names as I filled out the list, and I managed not to misassign anyone.
Only about eight or nine people participted in Conference The Second, most of those arriving after my shift. Their counselor was a sweet blond girl who had graduated from Tech- all she required was that I call her cell phone as each student arrived, for she had not met any of them and probably needed to give them event schedules and such. However, she owns a Houston area cell, to which the office phone does not dial, and I asked each of her students to call her themselves, a minor snag in the grand scheme of things.
The coordinators of Conference The Third (at least a hundred people) had switched rooms for at least a third of those, and claimed they had sent the revised roster, which, of course, was not to be found. Again, Christopher (my supervisor) remained unavailable for executive comment, so I gave the coordinators their keys, then sat with their revised list and for nearly an hour hand-entered each room change and switched keys from packets, fervently hoping the rooms were not cross-booked.
The coordinator is an oldish woman, her assistant much younger, and her counselors all college students. One of the little counselors came down and requested rather snobbily, but as offhand as possible, that I explain why the office hadn't received the room changes, as though at that point it actually mattered to anyone. I suggested, 'I have no idea, bee-otch' (as there was no confrontational reply, I might only have thought that last, but it was strongly felt).
I later learned from my co-workers that during their shifts, the third group made additional, arbitrary room changes, and placed someone in a room containing bugs (which has been documented, with the bug man due to carry out exterminations at some nebulous time in the future, hence, no one had been assigned that room). Someone actually came to the office and complained, 'You need to tell us about these things beforehand so that we can make room changes'. Steven answered something to the extent that we needed to be notified first of any desire for room changes, to ascertain whether those would be possible, to ensure rooms were prepared, to document key liabilities, et cetera.
Common sense is scarcer than hen's teeth, this coming from someone who jiggled the door handle.
When about nine, I one day encountered toilet overflow (my bowel movements always have been strong), and, unsure how to instigate cessation, proceeded to The Father for a solution. He told me, 'Jiggle the handle.' Looking at him, utterly confused, I nevertheless turned, walked timidly to the bathroom door, and lightly jiggled the handle. I probably did this twice before calling, 'Um, Dad... it's not working.'
Thus, as I carried out these decisions I should not have had to make, I anguished over whether I was doing everything wholly wrong, over whether someone would have to correct a thousand mistaken details behind me, and over whether the nightmare would ever cease. Christopher, because he had been elsewhere the entire time checking in two conferences at the campus apartments, appeared entirely nonchalant and assured me I had executed my position, in light of the situation, superbly. He expressed gratitude that I had not been calling him the entire morning with inane questions.
As he would not have alleviated my concerns immediately, I never called him after nine a.m., for I will not allow myself to be spurned twice. I left messages on his work and personal cell phones, at least one of which he ought to have checked before arriving at the office shortly before noon. I like Chris well enough, as people go, but I cannot help believing perhaps I ought to have his job, and he may have mine, for I would then make more, and he would make less. Call me modest.
I went upstairs to consume a light dinner and encountered Leigh, who operates as a coordinator at Chris' level at the other conference hall. She invited me to sit with them (Leigh, Chris, and a few other summer coordinators), and as she asked about my morning, and I gave her the frank details, she assured me they all appreciate my self-motivated initiative. Coming from Leigh, the compliment felt more genuine, but I suspect Chris will henceforth consider me someone who knows how to problem-solve independently, which is ridiculously far from an accurate assumption of my character (see toilet anecdote above). When I do require assistance or clarification regarding some matter, he hopefully will not find it facetious of me.
Leigh told me she loves me. A good many people, most of them in supervisory positions, tell me that, and yet I feel, somehow... unloved.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 4:38 PM]
No One Will Ever Know
Now an hour and-a-half into this office shift, I rather regret scheduling myself into it, more because I am too tired to do something constructive than because I am severely inconvenienced.
I did translate a passage from a slightly sappy letter Cicero wrote to his bosom buddy, Atticus; he chided Atticus for not being around to console him in his loneliness. Das ist sehr homosexual.
I almost nodded off, typing.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 5:31 AM]
The Door Adjacent To The One You Face
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Coming to the library for the purpose of first, translating a Catullus poem, and second, reading the portion of Romaji Diary I did not finish in bed last night, I sidestepped the study tables for the computer booths, at which I sat in the vain hope someone interesting would also be online. James-the-CA and Daryl are lovable, but I have nothing particular to say to either of them at the moment- I suppose I must resign myself to accomplishing that which I originally set forth to do, after all.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 11:59 AM]
Running Out Of Titles
Friday, June 03, 2005
A girl who works with me in the office, Bianca, this afternoon introduced me to two new things: a card game, entitled "Nertz", and racquetball. Nertz requires no strategy and is mindless, so I adapted well, though I lost horribly.
After mastering the initial concept of hitting the racquetball, further skill development was blocked by my inability to comprehend the possibility of leaving the serving box. I would hit the ball, Bianca would volley it back, and I would stand in the middle of the court, unmoving, watching the ball soar past (or at) me. This occurred numerous times, but Bianca was a patient instructor. Though the sweat soaked through to my underwear, I felt not too terribly exerted, and therefore assured Bianca I would gladly participate in additional scheduled sessions convenient to us both.
Afterward, I called Christina to drive me to Stammtisch, mit der Deutsch Klub. I bothered not to pretend I had called for little reason other than to utilize her chauffer services, but I suspect she did not mind, despite feigning injury. Only two or three other students appeared, so we restricted conversation to English, between ourselves, and enjoyed nice salads (I also imbibed an insane amount of Mountain Dew).
Christina and I giggled over slight things, such as Eike fumbling with his cigarettes, then tapping them on the table. Few pasttimes amuse me better than observing other people in social situations (so long as I myself remain unengaged in any interactions). People are goofy things.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 8:04 PM]
Chicken Little Tells You
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Translating the Latin passages last night was not nearly as strenuous as I had feared. I apparently mistook a couple of nouns for verbs, and vice versa, but I missed nothing obvious to everyone else. Sharada reviewed this first passage with the entire class, rather than calling on individuals to stumble through the sentences, which was fantastisch. Tonight shan't be taxing, either, for I completed that assignment last night. Latein ist fertig.
Aber ich habe deutsch... I have not yet read the entire chapter, but the online assignments are due already tomorrow. Das saugt.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 2:35 PM]
Germans Versus Romans
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Maybe fifteen people registered for my German class, with half those coming from the other German class. Latin is hugely popular, apparently, but again with only three people from the class I took last semester.
Berna, the Turkish/German graduate student/instructor, insistently speaks German through the entire class period, whereas Eike spoke it less than half, I suppose. She speaks at a rate such that I usually understand what she says, or I at least discern each separate word, if I may not be familiar with it. She seems better organized than Eike, but will still only cover about five chapters in four weeks. That cannot prove too difficult.
The Latin graduate student/instructor began a thorough, basic review, during which my eyes glazed, but she presents the material in a manner that indicates she might be a better teacher than my last instructor. He was good, but I still don't feel adequately prepared for translations, although that might be more as a result of my lax study habits. I am more anal about learning Latin than German, because Latin consists of more independent work.
Ich habe Hausaufgaben.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 11:18 AM]