sorry miss jackson
Mar. 22nd, 2001 02:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
like_a_clown(note: titles are often the first phrase that come to mind. much like my older, more free-formed poetry--the phrases pour out and I make sense of them later.)
before I awoke. circa 12:50 PM. my dream was that I was in new york city, and all of the buildings were all newfangled and functional. kinda like transmetro but totally clean. it was night, and I was with Nelson. well, I was with a Marchant tour group, but I ditched them with Nelson. So we walk around, and he was gay in this dream, and I get the feeling that that had made me gay too...and then I get back with Marchant and she's all giddy about where I'd been, etc...then I am in my bonus room with some woman and a man. I couldnt decide whether he was FDR or the Buchanan guy from Great Gatsby. Anyway...we're in the bonus room of my Diamond Bar house, in front of the window facing the street (I think, anyway) and for some reason--to demonstrate how--FDR/Buchanan begins to perform oral sex on me. Really skilled oral sex. I remained detached and observational--this was not exciting, I was impassive, etc. Then at the moment of his, um, full enveloping of me, I woke up.
Now then. I called Kris straightaway. she seemed happy. that made me happy. then I showered, ate, and went to pick up my american lit paper. she didn't have it ready, and said that it would be done by 5. this was at 3. my sex final was from 4 to 6. I went, reviewed for a minute, and took the test. It was ok, but I doubt if I kept the A I went in with. Oh well...
...and I stopped by Tamarkin's office to pick up my paper. On the door was an envelope. Marked "Jason Jackson." I figured she just used an old envelope, so I took the paper out. It was not my paper. This made me laugh and curse...either she had a brainfart, was going to put two of them up and forgot mine, Jason Jackson took the wrong envelope, or she's been mentally calling me the wrong name all quarter. And such a bland name, too--it DOES have a ring, but those are some pretty common names. Apologies to any Jasons or Jacksons, though..but anyway. I came back here, went online, then went to study for Philo 4. That test is gonna give it to me up the arse, I swear it...but all I need is a C, so I pass. Library first, then Lynda's. Whooo. Consensus is that no one aced the sex test, though, so maybe the curve will be favorable.
Then I get back here, and get an offer to see Cannibal Corpse with Turi. I may just go. Wheee. And then I read something that warmed my heart right up, and then something that cooled it back down. I have to deal with this whole easily-influenced thing. It tires me out.
I could never write for Cliff's Notes. I'd either truncate so much as to make the material incomprehensible, or I would go on at too much length for the notes to have any use. Gah.
before I awoke. circa 12:50 PM. my dream was that I was in new york city, and all of the buildings were all newfangled and functional. kinda like transmetro but totally clean. it was night, and I was with Nelson. well, I was with a Marchant tour group, but I ditched them with Nelson. So we walk around, and he was gay in this dream, and I get the feeling that that had made me gay too...and then I get back with Marchant and she's all giddy about where I'd been, etc...then I am in my bonus room with some woman and a man. I couldnt decide whether he was FDR or the Buchanan guy from Great Gatsby. Anyway...we're in the bonus room of my Diamond Bar house, in front of the window facing the street (I think, anyway) and for some reason--to demonstrate how--FDR/Buchanan begins to perform oral sex on me. Really skilled oral sex. I remained detached and observational--this was not exciting, I was impassive, etc. Then at the moment of his, um, full enveloping of me, I woke up.
Now then. I called Kris straightaway. she seemed happy. that made me happy. then I showered, ate, and went to pick up my american lit paper. she didn't have it ready, and said that it would be done by 5. this was at 3. my sex final was from 4 to 6. I went, reviewed for a minute, and took the test. It was ok, but I doubt if I kept the A I went in with. Oh well...
...and I stopped by Tamarkin's office to pick up my paper. On the door was an envelope. Marked "Jason Jackson." I figured she just used an old envelope, so I took the paper out. It was not my paper. This made me laugh and curse...either she had a brainfart, was going to put two of them up and forgot mine, Jason Jackson took the wrong envelope, or she's been mentally calling me the wrong name all quarter. And such a bland name, too--it DOES have a ring, but those are some pretty common names. Apologies to any Jasons or Jacksons, though..but anyway. I came back here, went online, then went to study for Philo 4. That test is gonna give it to me up the arse, I swear it...but all I need is a C, so I pass. Library first, then Lynda's. Whooo. Consensus is that no one aced the sex test, though, so maybe the curve will be favorable.
Then I get back here, and get an offer to see Cannibal Corpse with Turi. I may just go. Wheee. And then I read something that warmed my heart right up, and then something that cooled it back down. I have to deal with this whole easily-influenced thing. It tires me out.
I could never write for Cliff's Notes. I'd either truncate so much as to make the material incomprehensible, or I would go on at too much length for the notes to have any use. Gah.
