Okay, maybe I'll talk to you.
Well, my life is somewhat surreal. It feels like it's coated in wax or something. I suppose that might be the heat, but it's more of an emotional wax. I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this. It's as if I'm still living my life, but everything is now intangible and I can't feel anything correctly.
It's not like the breakup hasn't affected me at all. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I get to explain the situation multiple times a day, so it's not something I feel is necesary to incorporate in a detailed description of my day. Besides, I think that dwelling on depressing things isn't going to help the situation any. So while it might not seem like it on the surface, I'm spending most of my waking moments feeling like something is missing. And I miss her too.
When I woke up this morning, Riddy was still in bed. Come to think of it, I never actually saw him get out of bed. Come to think of it again, I saw a glimpse of him walking just as I was going to class at noon. Problem is, we both have the same class at 9. Apparently he had a sore throat and completely different attendance morals than me. Pretty much the only thing that prevents me from going to class is a physical inability. Which is probably a good thing, since I was sick about a dozen times last quarter.
So in racquetball, we finished off our tournament. Jon won, because he's old. I played a game with Ryan, where neither of us actually cared unless the coach was watching. After walking around for a bit, I got invited into a game of cutthroat, which was pretty fun. One of my major problems with cutthroat is that it never seems to really be the best player that wins. I might just be a pessimist here, since it's my least favorite version of the sport, but it always seems like the weakest player is trying to bring you down. I don't really know or care about the truth though.
Once back at the place, I showered and got emotionally prepared for Greek. Which wasn't that big of a deal, since I love Greek. It was a slow day though. The past few days have been, so I'm going to blame that on emotions.
Since I had a haircut appointment at 1:30, I walked with Ken to the Death Star, having a nice little chat. Then I ran into Becca and friends, with whom I had a nice little conversation. Then I browsed the Bookstore, then finally went to the basement of Freeborn for my haircut.
Not being all that excited or enthusiastic, the conversation was mellow to begin. Then I mentioned how I was going to see my parents this weekend and needed to get my hair in shape. He proceeded to ask where, to which I replied, "a church convention." Apparently that struck some interest, so he wouldn't stop talking and asking questions about it. Which I found pretty amazing. He's an interesting guy. Barbers and their clients develop interesting relationships over the years. All of my roommates get their hair cut at Great Clips over by Safeway, but I can't stop going to John, else I'll feel like I'm cheating on him. What's worse is that he's verified that he remembers me by some comment today. So now I'm locked in. But it's not that bad a thing. It's traditional male bonding. A manly thing.
Anyway, on my way out, I mentioned that because of conventions, things are a little ambiguous right now, but invited him once things get back to normal. Coincidentally, that should coincide with my next haircut, so I told him I'd talk about it then. He seemed interested.
With that, I had about 45 minutes until I was supposed to meet with Claire to discuss the monologue. So I went to the CoHo and got another burrito for lunch. I ate it, then sat outside at our meeting spot for a good half hour, reading my grammar book. At 2:30, she was nowhere to be found, so I called her. Apparently she thought we were meeting Wednesday. We had a little schedule discussion, culminating with our changing it to Thursday.
As I was walking toward Hart, I saw a nearly naked girl biking across the MU. So I went over to reprimand her for biking past all the "Do Not Bike" signs posted everywhere. Amy had just finished running, and felt embarrassed for being immodestly dressed, so put on a t-shirt and we talked for a minute or so. Then she went to get an icee.
My English lecture was awful. We're reading an immigrant story, so we had an hour lecture on the modern day process for naturalization. I did the sudoku.
With an hour and a half until my discussion, I headed over to Olson, sat in room 109, and did my Greek homework. I love studying in empty classrooms. I take the teacher's seat and occasionally use the chalkboards to work out things. It makes me feel like nobody in my class cares enough to attend, but I still hold class anyway. Maybe I need a life.
In our discussion, Adam decided to make us play Jeopardy, which was an awkwardly failed attempt. His teaching style reminds me of a young middle school substitute teacher. One who is really enthusiastic, but not very good at teaching. A little awkward.
When I got back to the apartment, there was a small (Magic, the) gathering watching the Kings play. I did a little business in my room, then ate some of the pizza Brandon took out of the freezer and put into the oven. Since we were needing butter, I made a run to Safeway, one of my feel-good places. I love browsing there. I ended up getting a good $20 worth of odds and ends, including our much needed butter, eggs, olive oil, shortening, and probably something else too. I came back and decided to make some baked apples. I found a few recipes online, but they ended up being pretty awful. So I made my own. It goes as follows:
Now this place is pretty quiet, and Riddy is still nowhere to be found. Not that I'm complaining. I should go make use of this.
It's not like the breakup hasn't affected me at all. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I get to explain the situation multiple times a day, so it's not something I feel is necesary to incorporate in a detailed description of my day. Besides, I think that dwelling on depressing things isn't going to help the situation any. So while it might not seem like it on the surface, I'm spending most of my waking moments feeling like something is missing. And I miss her too.
When I woke up this morning, Riddy was still in bed. Come to think of it, I never actually saw him get out of bed. Come to think of it again, I saw a glimpse of him walking just as I was going to class at noon. Problem is, we both have the same class at 9. Apparently he had a sore throat and completely different attendance morals than me. Pretty much the only thing that prevents me from going to class is a physical inability. Which is probably a good thing, since I was sick about a dozen times last quarter.
So in racquetball, we finished off our tournament. Jon won, because he's old. I played a game with Ryan, where neither of us actually cared unless the coach was watching. After walking around for a bit, I got invited into a game of cutthroat, which was pretty fun. One of my major problems with cutthroat is that it never seems to really be the best player that wins. I might just be a pessimist here, since it's my least favorite version of the sport, but it always seems like the weakest player is trying to bring you down. I don't really know or care about the truth though.
Once back at the place, I showered and got emotionally prepared for Greek. Which wasn't that big of a deal, since I love Greek. It was a slow day though. The past few days have been, so I'm going to blame that on emotions.
Since I had a haircut appointment at 1:30, I walked with Ken to the Death Star, having a nice little chat. Then I ran into Becca and friends, with whom I had a nice little conversation. Then I browsed the Bookstore, then finally went to the basement of Freeborn for my haircut.
Not being all that excited or enthusiastic, the conversation was mellow to begin. Then I mentioned how I was going to see my parents this weekend and needed to get my hair in shape. He proceeded to ask where, to which I replied, "a church convention." Apparently that struck some interest, so he wouldn't stop talking and asking questions about it. Which I found pretty amazing. He's an interesting guy. Barbers and their clients develop interesting relationships over the years. All of my roommates get their hair cut at Great Clips over by Safeway, but I can't stop going to John, else I'll feel like I'm cheating on him. What's worse is that he's verified that he remembers me by some comment today. So now I'm locked in. But it's not that bad a thing. It's traditional male bonding. A manly thing.
Anyway, on my way out, I mentioned that because of conventions, things are a little ambiguous right now, but invited him once things get back to normal. Coincidentally, that should coincide with my next haircut, so I told him I'd talk about it then. He seemed interested.
With that, I had about 45 minutes until I was supposed to meet with Claire to discuss the monologue. So I went to the CoHo and got another burrito for lunch. I ate it, then sat outside at our meeting spot for a good half hour, reading my grammar book. At 2:30, she was nowhere to be found, so I called her. Apparently she thought we were meeting Wednesday. We had a little schedule discussion, culminating with our changing it to Thursday.
As I was walking toward Hart, I saw a nearly naked girl biking across the MU. So I went over to reprimand her for biking past all the "Do Not Bike" signs posted everywhere. Amy had just finished running, and felt embarrassed for being immodestly dressed, so put on a t-shirt and we talked for a minute or so. Then she went to get an icee.
My English lecture was awful. We're reading an immigrant story, so we had an hour lecture on the modern day process for naturalization. I did the sudoku.
With an hour and a half until my discussion, I headed over to Olson, sat in room 109, and did my Greek homework. I love studying in empty classrooms. I take the teacher's seat and occasionally use the chalkboards to work out things. It makes me feel like nobody in my class cares enough to attend, but I still hold class anyway. Maybe I need a life.
In our discussion, Adam decided to make us play Jeopardy, which was an awkwardly failed attempt. His teaching style reminds me of a young middle school substitute teacher. One who is really enthusiastic, but not very good at teaching. A little awkward.
When I got back to the apartment, there was a small (Magic, the) gathering watching the Kings play. I did a little business in my room, then ate some of the pizza Brandon took out of the freezer and put into the oven. Since we were needing butter, I made a run to Safeway, one of my feel-good places. I love browsing there. I ended up getting a good $20 worth of odds and ends, including our much needed butter, eggs, olive oil, shortening, and probably something else too. I came back and decided to make some baked apples. I found a few recipes online, but they ended up being pretty awful. So I made my own. It goes as follows:
- Preheat oven to 350.
- Take 5 apples that are starting to go bad, then wash and core them, leaving the skin on. This works best with an instrument other than your hands.
- Take a handful of walnuts, cut them into smaller peices, then pour them into the apples evenly.
- Take a bunch of brown sugar and pack as much as you can into the apples.
- Take a tablespoon of butter and try and force that onto the top of the sugar in each of the apples.
- Awkwardly pour cinnamon over the tops.
- Place on a cookie sheet with a lip and bake for 15 minutes, as some moron online said.
- Realize that the butter still has not melted, then raise the temperature to 400.
- Cook for a lot longer.
- Take each apple off the sheet and onto a pretty plate.
- Serve to your roommates's guests.
- Wish you had done something better with the cinnamon.
Now this place is pretty quiet, and Riddy is still nowhere to be found. Not that I'm complaining. I should go make use of this.
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