No Really So

I was walking out of the library sometime last week or the week before on the way to get food, pass the belltower, when he approached.

These guys with the clipboards. I almost called them paperclips. Well I did, but then realized that that wasn't the proper referent for the .... for the thing. Anyway. I can't stand these people. I don't want to buy their shit. I don't want to "help them out with their scholarship"

because there IS NO SCHOLARSHIP. You're just a newspaper/magazine subscription salesmen. and hardly even that, as you have to pretend to be just some lil'ole gumshoe tryin to pull hisself up by his bootstraps and gosh golly it's just a little subscription you can have sent to bald kids who can then make you a card....

"Scuse me, Ma'am?"

*looking straight ahead, no emotion in voice* "No."

*can almost hear his head swivel back on his neck* "Daaaayum! Does the sun shine for you, lady?"

...

Walking back again the other way towards Greek class another one.

"Scuse me are you a student?"

"No." *still not looking at person*

"You're not a student?"

"Nope."

"you're not a student, and you got a backpack, and books wi'choo?"

*surprised that he caught on that much* "Nope, not a student."

If the sun weren't so bright in my eyes I would have turned to him and mentioned what tends to happen when you ask stupid questions. But then I also remembered that this was still Rivercide, and he's probably gonna call the store to try to get free Sprite later anyway.

Yesterday I had to go on campus to return some library books (for a change) and buy pepper spray for a girl coworker

Stupidest thing to do, really. Like she's gonna have it in her pockets at all times when she's walking around outside? Or is she gonna not do that because she's wearing tight clothes (nothing against that, if I had her figure I probably would too...well maybe not the tight jeans, that's just never comfortable) and instead keep it in her purse wherein of course any rapist/mugger/drunken assshat Rivercide native will certainly wait for her to panic and fumble around amongst her keys and makeup for her pepper spray.

And I read the label on the back before I gave it to her. Uno, it might not even be legal for her to carry it if she's not over 21--I'd be suprsied if she were 19-- and if she even uses it she might be screwed 'cause there's probably some stupid ass law that says they can't be used. Not to mention it's questionable effectiveness and ... what, is she gonna practice with it?

Still, it's better than nothing, and could potentially instill in her a sense of responsibility.

...? Responsibility for ... Idunno. Anyway, not what I came here for.

So I'm on campus to buy that, and have to pass by the belltower and there's some assface who dun gone and sealed himself off on a spot of grass with a sign about DON'T GO TO HELL FORNICATORS ADULTERERS LIARS DEMOCRATS (it wouldn't surprise me) THEIEVES FAGGOTS LIBERTARIANS (which I would expect, actually) and yelling.

Yelling!

...

Yelling!

...!!!

It was funneh. He's got his back straight, in a suit and tie, coke-snorting glasses, leaning into the crowd on the other side of the sidewalk yelling

"EEEEEYouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu....are so naughty

DOUBLE YOU TEE EFF HE SAID NAUGHTY

"so naughty in your wickedness and lustfullness you're FULL OF LUST"

I think he was actually addressing some girls who were dressed quite uh..."fashionably," particularly for it being UCR where I guess if you're not some whitewashed Azn bro-ho then you're some hairy shrew (I think personally I'm aiming for the hairy whitewashed look, but that's another...uh...TMI I think)...but yeah.

This was not the idiot last quarter with the American flag with the list of people on Jorge Bush's shit list....who was involved in this little replication of the 16th century debate between Martin Luther and Erasmus:

Assface of last quarter: BLAH BLAH BLAAAAAH JOHN WESLEY SAID

Stupid fat girl, screaming just as loud: JOHN WESLEY WHO IS DAT? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

Like...as if Stupidity and Arrogance had a kid, and that kid punched me on the side of my head. I didn't know who to laugh at, nor when to cry at myself.

I coulda gone to Santa Cruz.

So no, this was not the same guy. He was just leaning and trying to ... not yell I guess, but to kind of coo at us.

"ooooooooooh you're such a sinner aren't you. oooooh the fires of hell are thoooo hawt." Or something like that.

And today.

Gosh today. Let me unzip my backpack (pervert!) and get out Exhibit A:

Exhibit a is a flyer I found taped to some phone, company standing up things. I have no idea what they are, but they are next to the sidewalk. People put gum, ads for rooms available, stupid emo-skater stickers, blah blah, and this flyer. Pink 8 1/2 x 11 inch. It's a pretty color.

GASSTRIKE

@ The Mobil on the corner of Dumbass Street [hey, I know where that is] and the 91 FWY. This Sun. 3/18 12:30PM. Come join...

WE NEED YOUR SUPPORI [with the T cut off, so I'm guessing it's a copy]

and then it just gets stupid. Beyond what is already up there since

Eins: The Mobil on the corner of Dumbass and the 91 is about 12 miles away from campus. The campus itself is basically taking up the first 2 lanes of the freeway that leads the hell out of Riverside. No UCR student is gonna have to try to avoid that one.

Zwei: The flyer itself is so placed as unless they cause a crash, no driver will see it. Just some hippie ass who already is biking anyway, or me who's just annoyed.

Drei: "Come join..." us in ignoring something. So I guess the linguistics major didn't make it to the flyer-writing meeting.

Vier: I have a feeling that there's something spelt wrong, though there's nothing that I can see.

...

and then it just gets stupid.

Alphabetical gas strike (start's St. Patricks Day)
1st week--avoid any station that begins with the letter A thru M
2nd week--M-Z!

Spread the word!!!

Is it starting Saturday the 17th, or Sunday the 18th?

Why....why why why. Why alphabetical, you dumb fuck? Are there only 26 gas stations in the area, all started up and founded on the ideal that the next letter of the alphabet was their turn? And what of the people who don't know their alphabet, and can't tell whether M counts as the first week or the second? (Don't be so naive as to think that won't happen.) What if a gas station under this proletarian embargo lowers its prices? Not that it would happen, but still.

yeah so.. .universal literacy. My anti-hope.

By the time I got back onto campus there was an anti-war get up near the belltower, complete with a little wall dedicated to "Down With WalMart" complete with pictures of smiling Jorge Bush...and mariachi music. I kid you not. I don't...I don't care the mariachi music when it's ... in context. At a small restaurant where it's blared from the radio inside the kitchen, for such. Or some other place. But then, I don't like music anyway.

I just...want to walk to class in peace. Why do we need all these circuses...and don't even get me started on how dry the bread is tastin.

Uh. I am so tired. But it's warm out and I don't wanna walk my bike home (uphill...gosh I'm so lazy) until it's darker and cooler, but then my friend wants to go out to eat or Sabbath whatever after he gets off work...le sigh.

Everybody's....pissing me off. It's a nice day today.

So I wake up this morning prepared to turn in 4 pages of an assigned 8-12 page essay with the usual "ah fuckit I didn't care about this class blah blah it's never my fault that I'm such a shitty student..." and sail on downhill to campus, get coffee and sit down in the class, wondering where the stack of 8-12 page, super de duper perfect essays is.

And no. Professor writes down on the board the due date for the papers. Next Friday.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. Okay. Keine Probleme. I can actually add some meat to this little Melian masterpiece, maybe get better than a C for the class.

Meanwhile I didn't bother to do the assignment for the other class. Gah. I'm so lazy. I'm so... I just don't...uuuuuuuuuuuuuh I hate working.

I don't like this

How is it that I was able to sign into blogger just by clicking onthe blogger link? Just simply ... I'm already in. Maybe 'cause gmail's already up? Oh well.

I go now, to turn in a shitty essay. I swear to fuck this is the last time I fuck off the whole quarter. 8 1/2 weeks of just screwing around isn't even all that fun when you don't even have a social life to begin with. Boo hoo.

Or Maybe I Should Just

Maybe it's a test. Patience. Umm. Fortitude. Or faith? There are tests of faith, aren't there? Yeah, sure there are.

I think if anything it's just a regular "don't be a petty slut for a change" type of ...not so much a test as an opportunity. To...ding ding ding...not be a petty slut for a change.

He's not overly attractive in the face, just looks like...like himself. I mean...meh? I just don't really notice him as "dayum fine."

Liar.

I look at his body...usually like, his calves, and general shape, and when...I don't know why every single guy at the store has to do this but grabs the bars over the oven and does pull-ups, it's...I have to look away. I just...information I do not need.

But despite checking him out it doesn't really occur to me that he's oh em gee so hot. He's just...just looks the way he looks.

It's annoying as fuck, is what it is. I do the Right Thing. I tell Lieb about it, how oh so depressing it is that he's on Continent B while I'm on Continent A and there's some other guy "doing Lieb things" like picking me up from work, making me eat food, tellin me about God, but he's not Lieb and if he were Lieb it would be fine and I'd be able to express my gratitude for him doing these things the way I'm used to, the way I want to, but no it's not Lieb it's some .... does it matter who he is? No, it's just Nicht-Lieb.

So I tell Lieb, and I get. A call on the bus stop. An awkward phone call on the bus after using up my phone battery to IM him about it so instead of actually experiencing the emotional...release or whatever of telling him using my voice, I'm rehashing what I just told him as quickly as I could because of the delay in the IM thingie part of the phone.

And European men are assholes, to trust him on it. He's probably just hitting on you because he doesn't see me around (and really, what would that matter anyway? Would just put the responsibility for everything back on me...and really what woman wants to be responsible for her life?).

It's not that I don't believe him, or think that I'm young enough to be naive and think he's just wrong. Just...*sigh*

But then, what did I expect? "Oh Fritz you should totally hook up with him, you'll be 23 forever! I'll always put up with your bullshit!" No. I just...wanted it to go away.

So after a couple days of acting stupid around Nickt, I IMed him what's been bugging me. I don't think he can understand me when I talk to him face to face, unless it's in answer to a question or whatever that he asked or was just talking about. It'd be like, looking up Sehnsucht cold in the dictionary. Or facere.

But online, his syntax is so .... not-conformative to English SVO, that half the time I only get the gist of half of what he's saying. So...whatever. Anyway, as best as I can gather he was truthful that yes he would be interested but knows about Lieb so isn't going to do anything .... he said something about his character and then moved English words around like so many pieces of furniture tossed around in search of missing housekeys that I had no ... no second intentions, he knows I have a boyfriend and ... and blah blah blah. I believe him. I don't have to, but I do.

And now? Now it's like before. I don't really talk much to him so much as he tries to talk to me in English--I was a shitty conversation partner to that Korean girl when I was trying to get college credit for it two years ago, too--which I guess is okay...forces him to go back in his memory for words and phrases he's picked up and use them.

I'm comfortable around him. Not sure in what regard, but...idunno.

With Lieb. It's kinda the same, but better. I told him about this, so I'm not keeping anything from him. It's not like I'm asking guys out and then not telling him about it until about a week after I get stood up. And then not mentioning it or the implications of it ever again.

Oooooh buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurn. Of who...I don't wanna answer that.

Double you tee eff.

All your blogger are belong to the...shit I don't remember how that line goes. Damn, I wish I remembered it, references to video games I've never played are the only way I can make my point anymore.

I just now saw the comments posted in re the last post at the blog that's still linked around places, attention to which was brought ... idunno, couple weeks, a month, ago. I went back there 'cause I thought I had a link to a Latin dictionary up there. Which I don't...what do I have a German one for in that case, anyway?

My little footies are more important than keeping up a blog I hadn't touched in about five months or so, actually. Aggravating stress fractures (I know, that is a real violin playing in the background, the digs are pitiful, but the digs are classy) does not sound like a beneficial trade off for....comments.