I'm writing this not so much because I have anything to say, but because if I don't take a break I'm gonna end up curled up in the corner screaming. I'm trying to write this stupid 10 page historical narrative (if you don't know what that is, I still haven't quite figured it out myself) and I have a sneaking suspicion I'm gonna get to page 3 or so and just run out of stuff to say.

Anyway, I told my mom about getting accepted to that school, and she just got mad because it was even farther away than I am now, and accused me of actively trying not to get accepted to my first choice. The first choice school sent a postcard saying "we got your application, make sure your file is complete" to my parents, instead of to me (stupid permanent address crap) and somehow my mom read that as "Your application is not finished! Finish it or else!" and hasn't quit bugging me since. That's a very "her" way of reacting. My dad, not being a complete idiot, understood the whole thing and just sort of ignored her, and told me he was proud of me. I'm pretty sure my mom has never said that in her life. I think she just doesn't understand why I'm not already married with three kids and living across the street from her. Ever since like five years ago when I first mentioned the idea of going to college in another state, she's had it in her head that I think I'm better than her. Hmm, I seem to be bad for turning rambling into ranting.

I heard the other day that my old dreaded roommate made an ass out of himself at work. (He's a waiter.) He's a complete cokehead, and on Easter he came to work in a complete frenzy, wearing bunny ears and hopping, yes, that's right, hopping, around the dining room. Finally the bartender pulled him aside and reminded him that he was a 35 year old man wearing rabbit ears and hopping, and he stopped. Oh, how I wish I could've been there.

This guy, Derek Walcott, is coming to my school next week to give a free lecture. I can't decide if it sounds interesting or not, but I figure it's not every day you get to meet a Nobel Prize winner. I can't find any of his stuff online (and I think I owe like my first born child to the library at this point) so if anyone happens to like him or hate him, do tell me.

I've gotten really, really addicted to Star Trek: TNG. One of the 15 channels that I get shows two episodes a day, and I'm quickly turning into a huge geek. Although, I really can't stand the original series, so I doubt the geeks would have me. Mark tells me I'm starting to sound like Brodie from Mallrats. If you haven't seen it, well, first don't, and second, Brodie spends all his time contemplating things like whether Superman could have sex with Lois Lane. ("It's impossible, Lois could never have Superman's baby. Do you think her fallopian tubes could handle the sperm? I guarantee you he blows a load like a shotgun right through her back. What about her womb? Do you think it's strong enough to carry her child? He's an alien, for Christ sake. His Kyrptonian biological makeup is enhanced by earth's yellow sun. If Lois gets a tan the kid could kick right through her stomach. Only someone like Wonder Woman has a strong enough uterus to carry his kid. The only way he could bang regular chicks is with a kryptonite condom. That would kill him.")

Okay, I can't think of anything else to ramble about, so back to work.