Dealing with this inter grad student bullshit (long story short: i’m running for pres again, only because no one else volunteered, and i feel like i finally have the measure of it, so we can get more done next year. in the write-ins, someone insinuated that i suppressed other nominations - what nominations? - in order to be pres. ugh. because it’s such a glorious and powerful job. and we have a couple of poisonous grad students who are spreading all kinds of shit about people, good people, among the newer students. i’m fairly sure these things are connected.)
what the hell am i doing here? i left high school drama in high school. i just want to take off, and go paddle, and never look back.
I got one for derrrby. Specifically, this one:
I know, pink, well, I didn’t have much choice on color at the awesome sale price.
I got clotheslined the other day, and I’m told that my head literally bounced on the ground. I guess it looked bad enough for an entire group of derby girls to be all, NO, woman, sit yo ass down. Please don’t keep scrimmaging.
But you know what? This dome-home did me just fine. I felt the very slightest of fingers of a headache around the back of my skull for about 5-10 minutes, and then - nothing. No concussion, no headache, no problems that I know of. I hit my head in a similar way wearing a Bern while skiing (I suck at everything, I know), and the result of that impact, on snow, felt worse than this one. Maybe it was a lucky bounce. But still, after seeing a few derby brats laid out with concussions (poor kids - it’s pretty freaky to see children laid out like that), I think I’ll stick to my fairly expensive Swedish-made lid, thank you very much.
"In 4.5 billion years there will arrive the demise of your phenomenology and your utopian politics, and there’ll be no one there to toll the death knell or hear it."
— PREACH, Lyotard!
as I’m finding out, there are so many hard parts to breaking up with someone you’ve been with for so long and still fully love.
i went to PT today for the first time for my shoulders, and it was where all the university athletes go for their PT. and as i was lying there with the heating pads on my shoulders, in this super athlete-techie place, all i could think about is how excited I am to tell my boyfriend about it, because this, working with athletes, is his dream.
And it’s so deeply upsetting to me that I can’t just pick up the phone and talk to him about it. And it’s doubly upsetting that now he will probably never even attempt to follow that dream. He would be so good at it, and it could still happen, but from how I know him and given the way the chips have fallen, it doesn’t seem likely.
any time now, mkay, thanks
I just can’t anymore. We’re not even halfway through, are we? Maybe??
