mistersandman: (watchmen)
What the hell. It's four in the morning and the only 'work' I've done tonight is copy and paste two essays into a new essay with an unfulfilled promise that I'd mesh the two later. As you can see, I'm taking the STALIN final exam very seriously.

This just goes to show I can't handle caffeine. At all. I had a pot of Earl Gray tea around seven tonight, mixed with some Banker's Note Vodka and I'm still wired. In case you were wondering, Banker's Note is abominable. I thought it would be of a greater or equal quality than the oft-maligned-but-drinkable Vladimir, since it cost a dollar extra. It is absolut shit. Too disgusting to drink straight, we've taken to mixing it in just about everything we drink in small amounts in a desperate attempt to get rid of the stuff.

I've wanted to go on a cross-country road trip since I read On The Road when I was 16 and just figuring out my way around a car. Tonight, it looks like that dream might finally become a reality, on account of the fact that we just secured a car for the trip. SCORE. More details to come!
mistersandman: (SHAME)
I fell out of touch with my thesis adviser after spring break. Can you blame me? I have class during his office hours and a busy schedule besides. The man does not check his email and rarely answers his phone. Moreover, I had shit I had to do. But now it's time to pay the piper and that essay on Chinese water policy isn't going to write itself.

I'm barely on the 14th page of my essay after three intense writing sessions. It seems like every paragraph has been a struggle. My adviser will tell me this is because I don't have a solid thesis when I finish speaking to him twelve hours from now. Can't wait. I'm worried he's going to hate this paper. His focus (and the focus of this thesis class) is American Wilderness Preservation History. When he gave me permission to write this bastard, it was a major show of faith. There's nothing I hate more than letting people down who "believe in me." Seriously, the worst thing the guy could ever have said to me is "You're a smart kid. You're getting an A."

It suddenly occurs to me that my college career will end with very little fanfare. If I'm going to attend my father's wedding on April 30 (I have to, I agreed to be Best Man), I need to have all scholarly business concluded by April 28 at the latest and there won't be much time to breathe in between for celebration. I have a Chinese final on Wednesday, another Chinese final on Thursday, a Stat final on Tuesday of next week, and a final Stalin paper to write. On top of that, I have to entertain my father for the entirety of Saturday, when he comes to take away everything I own from my house except the barest essentials.

After the 24th, I'll just be a ghost haunting an empty house with naught but my laptop and two pairs of clothes. Life after graduation is a mystery to me. Habitat for Humanity? Inspector General? Library volunteering?

???

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Three Little Birds

August 2011

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