Well, I finally got off the couch. I actually showered, found a hairbrush, and dressed myself. I went to Longwood to retrieve my computer last Wednesday night. The school still looks like a warzone, only with really cool portable floodlights.
I met up with Eva and Jess, attended something H-SC called "theater," and returned to the land of smoking. It was glorious. I arrived in Farmville with 19 cigarettes (I had one at the McDonald's in Amelia) and left with -6. Yup, from none a day to 25 in, like, 11 hours. Woah. As Phish once covered, "what a beautiful buzz, what a beautiful buzz, what a beautiful buzz." Eva and Jess got me as their d.d., and I got to smoke. Fair deal. After we watched hampsters try to act out really shitty plays, we went to something that used to resemble a house, but really didn't anymore and smelled like puke, but only in isolated places like the stairwell and behind a couch. I sat outside smoking as people who's first names were their mother's madien names talked about politics and NoVA with me.
Now, I'm taken. This is no secret. To those of you who don't know, I'm very taken. Hello, most chicks going to a H-SC frat party would change, like, 6 times, and wear something that showed at least a hint of boobie. I was wearing dirty jeans, flip flops, orange chipped nail polish, and a white t-shirt. Not exactly "man come hither." But there were only 7 chicks there, and two of those were lesbians (as Eva and/or Jess-- I'm not saying a WORD, and you know who owes me!!!!!). I could've gotten laid. Seriously. Me. Someone who lives on a couch and doesn't believe in hygiene. Man, I'd've been some rich hampster's bitch, I wouldn't mind. But I was good. Be sure to tell Dave.
I watched drunks golf, drunks throw stuff, drunks get stoned, and drunks hit on the more obvious lesbian. All in all, a good time was had by all, including the d.d., cause she had cigarettes and even bummed a few from some drunk guy. Would I ever go back? Prob not. I like my guys. They don't talk about the rise of the Republican party and play Jefferson Starship out of the trunk of their mom's Caddy.
Today I unpacked. Progress, baby, progress. I can not locate my long tan cotton knit skirt, long black skirt with slits on both sides, or Alpha sweatshirt with blue ink stains on the sleeve. All were worn on the hall and prob now belong to Sally. I did, however, find one white shoe, a green knee sock, and an Alpha sweatshirt that's not mine. Lemme know if these could be yours. There will be a brief questionaire to identify the items, which will be returned to the proper owners sometime in August.
Well, "Bands on the Run" is off and there's... 17 hours till "Trading Spaces" comes on. I shall email again, unless the arthritis flares up. Oh, for those of you interested, Dave and I tied our record today. We have now spent 9 days apart. And I've knitted two more potholders, no sign of blanket making in sight.
05/02/01
Wow. So this is what it feels like to have your brain slowly begin to shut down due to a lack of use.
I've been living on the couch. My brother got my room cause he had acl reconstruction surgery. His room lacks a bed-- don't ask. Anyway, I decided that since I was essentially homeless, living out of boxes and delegated to the couch, I would make the most of it. I haven't brushed my hair yet. Washed, yes, but no brushing. My hair stuff is still packed somewhere. And I've only worn pajamas, excluding the one time I got dressed, put on a hat, and went to the library. I'm thinking about showering and getting dressed, but the thought scares me. Why go to all the trouble when THERE'S NOTHING TO DO?!?!?!?!
I've alphabetized the pantry, washed my car twice, and poked my brother just to watch him giggle on demerol (it's hilarious). I dusted my books, watched informercials, and argued over the phone with Dave. And, as mentioned earlier, WENT TO THE LIBRARY. Scary. Tomorrow I'm going to get my computer from Eva. Exciting. How sad is your life when the only thing you have to look forward to is going back to Longwood?
Yet, I did have a dream last night. A wise old man wearing an Adidas running suit walked with me through a grove of mango trees. He stopped, waved a withered finger in my face,and said, "Your life sucks without Nicotine." I awoke, bathed in a cold sweat in a pool of sheets, and realized he was right.
I NEED NICOTINE.
I've had 3 cigarettes since I've been here. Amazing. I used to have that many walkinfg from Stubbs to So. Cunningham. That's why I went to the library, to sit outside on a concrete bench and puff away. I had two in a row, feeling like Charlie when he found that dollar and high-tailed it to the candy store, and caught a beautiful buzz. The third was devoured in a moment of insanity in my backyard while the parental units were at the doctors with my brother. You'd've though I was having a joint the way I hid in between a shed and the fence, fanning the air and looking at the dogs like they were gonna rat me out. The evidence is currently buried under a rock in the front yard.
Well, time to go find some sort of amusement. And nicotine. I have 25 cigarettes in my purse and bookbag. They must be consumed before going stale. And I have to find, in a small town like mine, somewhere to consume them. I'm thinking about Wal-Mart. No one my mother associated with goes there, and I can get more yarn for my knitting.
Until next time,
Rebbecca
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