Apparently moreso in Oklahoma than in 43 other states. Clearly I need to move to Hawaii.
I’m catless. Bits died of some unknown ailment about 2 months ago. Two weeks ago I decided to get rid of my baby Bug, and I found some kind lady on craigslist who just happened to be looking for a Maine Coon. The story goes downhill after that, so let’s just pretend I had a happy ending from craigslist.
I got a B in my US Fed. Gov’t class. I suppose I could have gotten an A if I hadn’t been so distracted. That class was the most fun I’ve had since I went back to school. Very different from the Biology/Nutrition class that I’m still plodding through.
That Bio professor can be a real jerk sometimes. Overheard in class yesterday:
“I don’t teach to the bottom half of the class anyway, those people aren’t going anywhere.”
I’ll reserve my final judgment of him after I get my final grades. Yes, my opinion will be swayed by how harshly he grades me. He claims “I don’t like to be a bad guy.” Sure, buddy. (I’m just a little bitter. The man is teaching a simple Nutrition class and he’s turned into pre-Anatomy/Physiology. It’s brutal.).
Last month my mother used Facebook to let me know that my daughter has Celiac disease. Besides being absolutely heartbroken that my daughter has suffered through 7 years of digestive pain, I was livid that my mom chose such an impersonal manner of communication to tell me such a personal thing. That’s not to say that I think Facebook is “impersonal”, but there’s a huge difference between poking and pillowfighting your friends, and getting a message that can potentially alter your life. (I tested negative, still waiting for results on my sons.)
I can’t wait for Thanksgiving. I’m taking the train to Dallas to visit my dad.
I’m looking forward to time away from the ghetto. All of the original tenants that used to make life crazy in my building have all moved away. I wish I could say that my landlord moved in some upstanding citizens, but we’ve got our very own drug dealer AND a prostitute! The alcoholic grandmother who frequently mistakes my door for her own and who has an adorable puppy that she likes to kick around is still…kicking. The paranoid schizophrenic parolee moved out at the beginning of this week, but I’m anxiously awaiting the arrival of the next outstanding specimen of humanity.
I’m looking to move, and I found the perfect place. It’s less than 2 miles from my school, and about 5 miles from my job. The only problem is that I already think the property manager is a jerk. I guess it’s not a good idea to move somewhere when I’m already sensing conflict…but the rent is amazingly low, and it’s ‘all bills paid’ so I won’t have to deal with utility bills.
Sometimes I understand why people move into tents in the woods.
Happy November, and Friday the 13th.
