Sunday, June 25, 2006
Theoretically, I might finish The Reign of the Phallus sometime this evening, depending on how much time I devote to the study of entomology this afternoon. Dr. Thorvilson needs to finish the semester early in order that he might begin research work with imported red fire ants (projected to consume all of July), which means both the lecture and the lab exams fall on Tuesday, rather than the regular finals period of Friday or Saturday. Today I probably ought to start reviewing the notes.
The severe pain in my right foot distracts from my reading. I suppose it to be some sort of bone bruise, which aches even when no pressure is applied. Every three weeks since graduating high school, I have regularly gone gimp. Ich weiß nicht warum. Perhaps I ought to cease walking entirely. Or I could acquire a cane.
Yesterday I ate at Saigon as planned with Jennifer, Sharada, and Steve, which was particularly pleasant because Sharada had plenty of stories to relate (which meant I had little need to interject with any anecdotes from the stock I keep for conversational purposes). The slightest nudge always sets Steve off about something he has found curious, upsetting, or remarkable lately, which sometimes provides a welcome respite from me having to fill a dialogue with complaints about my job, my body's recent tendency to go kaputt for absolutely no reason, my financial situation, the soul-less Schweinehund who calls himself my father, or the thirty-five mile an hour Lubbock wind (which whips my hair to ruin after forty minutes of coiffing just to have gotten it to the level of "bad"). Sharada and I spent a few minutes at Steve's house afterward to listen to a song he wrote and to be shown his impressive pumpkin patch. He offered us fresh dill, but I rejected his dill.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 6:22 AM]