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Unlike Hay-den, I remember New Year's perfectly. (Hay-den, why do we never remember what happens when we allow liquor into our system, hmmm?) This is because, you guessed it, I'm sick again. Let's recap, shall we? It's gone Sarah, Pete, Jackie, Samantha, Pete, Samantha, Pete. I am -tired- of being ill.
Regardless, New Year's was a good time. We went over to Ursula's, who is also sick, and hung out with a bunch of random people there. Adam made, oh, about 65 jello shots for about 10 people, so a fairly good time was had by all. I called Jess around midnight, and she had just been hit in the head with some champagne, so I believe she was having a slightly better time than we were. New Years, as a rule, has always been fairly lame. Maybe I just know the wrong people. The best was '96 at East of Java, and there wasn't even any liquor. Next year, I'm going to party.
The fabulous and wonderful Carrie was in town, but I only got to see her once because she, too, was feeling ill. I have to give her dates for my Seattle trip so we can find me a place to live.
My reading list fell down again.
The application has been sent, for better or for worse, etc. You would think that this would relieve some of my stress, but it doesn't. I wish that I had known someone other than Dr. Torgerson that could read it and tell me if it's ok. Unfortunatly, most people I know fall asleep at the mere mention of books, or say "Sylvia who?" or are out of town, or are hypercritical about everything without having the literary theory knowledge base. I want reassurance. Getting into Flagler was easy. They looked at my GPA and my verbal SAT score and practically sent a party to my door. This is the first time that my work has gone out there, and it scares me. (This does not count the quantum theory paper...that was a fluke.) I worked so much on it, I might as well have written the paper with my own blood. I'm bored of the platitudes, of people telling me I won't have any trouble getting in, when they've never tried it themselves.
Tonight, I bought Sleepless in Seattle. I can't decide if this is becoming a collection of Seattle moves or of Meg Ryan movies. Although, technically, since Singles is Pete's, I only have two Meg Ryan movies and two Seattle movies, although one, obviously, overlaps.
I applied for a new job today. Hooray for me taking over my life.
The fabulous Mr. Nick should be coming back into town any day now. Anyone wanna put bets down on whether or not he'll come visit up here?
The Christmas tree has been dismantled, and the gingerbread house is going soon. Goodbye, fun decorations.
Regardless, New Year's was a good time. We went over to Ursula's, who is also sick, and hung out with a bunch of random people there. Adam made, oh, about 65 jello shots for about 10 people, so a fairly good time was had by all. I called Jess around midnight, and she had just been hit in the head with some champagne, so I believe she was having a slightly better time than we were. New Years, as a rule, has always been fairly lame. Maybe I just know the wrong people. The best was '96 at East of Java, and there wasn't even any liquor. Next year, I'm going to party.
The fabulous and wonderful Carrie was in town, but I only got to see her once because she, too, was feeling ill. I have to give her dates for my Seattle trip so we can find me a place to live.
My reading list fell down again.
The application has been sent, for better or for worse, etc. You would think that this would relieve some of my stress, but it doesn't. I wish that I had known someone other than Dr. Torgerson that could read it and tell me if it's ok. Unfortunatly, most people I know fall asleep at the mere mention of books, or say "Sylvia who?" or are out of town, or are hypercritical about everything without having the literary theory knowledge base. I want reassurance. Getting into Flagler was easy. They looked at my GPA and my verbal SAT score and practically sent a party to my door. This is the first time that my work has gone out there, and it scares me. (This does not count the quantum theory paper...that was a fluke.) I worked so much on it, I might as well have written the paper with my own blood. I'm bored of the platitudes, of people telling me I won't have any trouble getting in, when they've never tried it themselves.
Tonight, I bought Sleepless in Seattle. I can't decide if this is becoming a collection of Seattle moves or of Meg Ryan movies. Although, technically, since Singles is Pete's, I only have two Meg Ryan movies and two Seattle movies, although one, obviously, overlaps.
I applied for a new job today. Hooray for me taking over my life.
The fabulous Mr. Nick should be coming back into town any day now. Anyone wanna put bets down on whether or not he'll come visit up here?
The Christmas tree has been dismantled, and the gingerbread house is going soon. Goodbye, fun decorations.
