Ok, so somebody left a marching drum in our hall sometime during dinner. I leave and return to find a white yamaha bass marching drum standing up in front of my door. So many questions immediately came to mine, such as "what sort of kind hearted individual would choose to bless the men of G with such a magnificent instrument of glory? what am i supposed to do with this drum? why did they refuse to leave mallets? what the heck am i going to do with this? where did it come from? does the yamaha factory family miss their long lost brother (or sister)? what the frick am i going to do with this drum????!!!!" I then rolled the drum into my room for safe keeping and part time storage. As i returned from a nights activities including Vespers, and hangout/music making in the Borden's room complete with a chant i have entitled "where are the women/sausage... fest!" which lasted a grand total of 5 minutes (the 5 minutes Annie Mason was missing from our presence).
So now i sit, inspired once more to articulate the life of Tom Shank via blog. I came back back to G and rolled the drum out of my room to resist the temptation to bang on it all night and to avoid the danger of stubbing my toesies on it in the morning. I am awaiting a night of wrestles sleep due to the countless gunshots which no doubt are decapitating countless zombies on the TV on the other side of the wall, and the sporadic banging of the drum, which has already had its first encounter with Lucas i believe. Nick came out and documented it, God bless his soul, and then continued to run with an elaborate story which eventually led to dubbing our new prized possession, "The gnome drum" (it is an extended inside joke). Welp, goodnight, and God Bless you all.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
"You Look Horrible"
Ok, so here is whats up. The last 4 days i have been sick. Everytime i lay my head to my couches armrest it snuggles up to and whispers, "no don't go... you are sick, just a little longer..." And typically my response has been, "Ya, you are right, i'm sick, i deserve to rest and let my body get recover, but just for an hour of nap." I don't know if i am using this sickness as an excuse to be lazy and mop around with hunched shoulders as i walk from the soup station in the DC back to my room. I think it hits harder at different moments. Either way, this is the first time being sick this year, and it suuuucks.
Last night i took some night-quil (sp?) for the first time, great and bad decision. I zonked out immediately, and again when i awoke, my pillow whispered the same thing to my as my couch, I can't believe it!! THEY ARE IN KAHOOTS WITH EACH OTHER!!! Except i think the pillow is a more vicious enemy. Its strength is weaker, it only postponed my day 17 minutes instead of 60, but its timing is impeccable, for i was seven minutes late to proctoring Dr. Longman's OT test. I practically fell out of bed, into my shoes, and found the same clothes as yesterday (minus the pj pants). I walked in to a silent classroom, and no Dr. Longman, and i thought, "well, this could be really good or really bad." He showed up 5 minutes later and walked in and the first thing he said was, "You look horrible."
(Digression)
This is the second time someone a professor has told me verbatim, "You look horrible", and it was senior year, but of highschool. I had pulled an all nighter writing my poetry anthology in the typical Thomas fashion. But this time, he sent me home after i laid on the ground in the back and passed out for the the first 30 minutes. I love good ole Mr. Moses and the good times Brian Pancoast and i had there. But he and that class is another story altogether, another 50 stories altogether.
(And were back)
Even though as i sat there in front of Longman realizing that i'm not feeling too horrible, and have certainly felt worse, i gave in anyway and said, "ya i'll probably be skipping classes today." And then followed up with, "I'm going to stay though, i need the money."
So now here I sit in front of 60 students. None of them realize that i am writing this blog, that girl in the corner doesn't know i just looked at her, and neither does that guy, oh there we go, i got some eye contact! Proctoring exams is fun, its kinda weird too, they assume that the subprof knows everything... i might flunk the test if i took it... na i'de probably get a C, but still, i almost want to tell them all... but that wouldn't do anything. Ok, that concludes this blog. I am going to end on a sober and sad note though. I am going to be praying today about still going on PC. At this moment, its a no, but we'll see what the day brings.
Last night i took some night-quil (sp?) for the first time, great and bad decision. I zonked out immediately, and again when i awoke, my pillow whispered the same thing to my as my couch, I can't believe it!! THEY ARE IN KAHOOTS WITH EACH OTHER!!! Except i think the pillow is a more vicious enemy. Its strength is weaker, it only postponed my day 17 minutes instead of 60, but its timing is impeccable, for i was seven minutes late to proctoring Dr. Longman's OT test. I practically fell out of bed, into my shoes, and found the same clothes as yesterday (minus the pj pants). I walked in to a silent classroom, and no Dr. Longman, and i thought, "well, this could be really good or really bad." He showed up 5 minutes later and walked in and the first thing he said was, "You look horrible."
(Digression)
This is the second time someone a professor has told me verbatim, "You look horrible", and it was senior year, but of highschool. I had pulled an all nighter writing my poetry anthology in the typical Thomas fashion. But this time, he sent me home after i laid on the ground in the back and passed out for the the first 30 minutes. I love good ole Mr. Moses and the good times Brian Pancoast and i had there. But he and that class is another story altogether, another 50 stories altogether.
(And were back)
Even though as i sat there in front of Longman realizing that i'm not feeling too horrible, and have certainly felt worse, i gave in anyway and said, "ya i'll probably be skipping classes today." And then followed up with, "I'm going to stay though, i need the money."
So now here I sit in front of 60 students. None of them realize that i am writing this blog, that girl in the corner doesn't know i just looked at her, and neither does that guy, oh there we go, i got some eye contact! Proctoring exams is fun, its kinda weird too, they assume that the subprof knows everything... i might flunk the test if i took it... na i'de probably get a C, but still, i almost want to tell them all... but that wouldn't do anything. Ok, that concludes this blog. I am going to end on a sober and sad note though. I am going to be praying today about still going on PC. At this moment, its a no, but we'll see what the day brings.
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