I may or may not have failed my Statistics Final. It’s hard to say (or predict!). Though I do know that staring at it for another hour and a half would not have helped. at all. (I’m blogging at the public computer next to the elevator btw which is really awkward I keep having to hide the window when a classmate walks by and says, Not that bad right? and I have to laugh and say hahah EZ) At one point I raised my hand to ask the professor a question and she gave me this look of pity, then squinted her eyes and stared at my right ear until she leaned in and said, I’m trying to read what your earrings say. They’re made from recycled vodka bottles, I said, waiting for her to answer my test question. She laughed and walked away.
In the end I handed the professor my exam and said, so, since this is the last day, when do we get to see our grade? It’ll be posted online. So, we never go over the test together? She hook her head. But then how will we learn!? She looked at me again and then laughed.
Whatever this place is the dumbest I’m going to New Hampshire.
(ps Baruch public computers don’t have internet spellcheck(figures) s0 stop judging me)
I woke up this morning at 8:00am to the FreetZ sifting through coins looking for laundry quarters. She was dressed for work and running around the apartment, hanging cardigans from whatever hooks she could find. Oh god, I said. Did you really do your laundry this morning? Yep, she said, running past me. Was anyone else there? Are you kidding? She said. We live in Park Slope and it’s 8am. In mommytime that’s like 3 o’clock in the afternoon, I’ve already been up for four hours.
The bossman is out of town but like any obedient employee I showed up yesterday to write my 200 word paragraphs on credit monitoring services, game copying software, and high school alumni reunions. I’d like to say I snooped around to find out where all of these 200 word paragraphs are going, but I can’t be sure. In fact, I’m terrified to google any of them for fear I’ll find them, plastered all over the internet, mocked with adsense signs and flashing gifs. Then I went outside and took photos of babies studied Statistics under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass (SUMBO in DUMBO!).
Last night I went to Grzl*’s show at the Mercury Lounge where I ran into my Environmental Ethics Philosophy Professor. I have a vivid memory of standing in front of that class to give a presentation about the ethics of organic agriculture and social capital while Peter sat in the front row, rocking back and forth in his chair staring at me and hysterically laughing. Then I cut up pieces of organic apples and threw them in his face passed them around on a paper plate.
And then tonight I biked over to Prospect Park to sit outside the fence at the Bandshell and listen to MGMT with a bunch of 18 yr olds. Seriously. Here’s a photo of them dancing all free and happy and with their shoes off in the middle of the street before they have quarter life crises and fail the gre. Oh and wella looka that. Here’s a song. And it’s called “The Youth.” fml
Last night was PeterB’s birthday dinner at Henry’s End where we ate duck and tuna. Then we ate a 21 layer crepe (for 21 friends?) and had a dance party. Then I walked two miles home in my Payless espadrilles which was more tedious than painful because one can only go so fast in Payless espadrilles and I was like ughhh this is taking so long. Do you think if someone googles Payless espadrilles HoBaB will show up on the search listings? And they’ll click on it? And I’ll be like, omg someone’s HoBaB in Indiana! Does that sound desperate? (my confidence site hits are down like 26% from last month i don’t want to talk about it)
Then today was Williamsburg Walks where I, with my co-chair, planned a bunch of biking events and called them Williamsburg Bikes which is unfortunate because I really don’t know anything about Williamsburg or Bikes and ultimately just ended up feeling like an impostor. We invited Time’s Up, the forward thinking earth friendly bike professionals, to camp out and help visitors with bike repair. I put myself first in line which was a huge mistake. The bike man was like, wtf is this a schwinn? and I was all, I don’t know can you fix it? Then he just put grease all over the chain and was like, um… try that. Then twenty minutes before our big Williamsburg Bikes tour, there was a huge boom. Everyone on the street was like, AHHH and I was like, AHHH was that a gun? It wasn’t until ten minutes later when I heard someone say, Oh man, that sucks man look at that bike, that I realized the boom was not a gun but the sound of my bike’s front tire, which had exploded. Then I had to do the exploded-front-bike-tire walk of shame to the nearest bike shop where a second earth friendly bike man was like, wtf did you do to your bike is this a schwinn? and I was like, can I watch you fix it I’m embarrassed, and so he said ok give me $13 so I did and he winked at me and now my wheel wobbles.
Rollerblading was never this hard.
See PeterB Birthday photos here. See Williamsburg Walks Photos here.
You know when you read about celebrity couples breaking up because their schedules are just so busy and they just haven’t had time to see each other and it’s all very sad but still very amicable and they hope to remain the best of friends? I think the FreetZ came home from Europe on Monday, though I can’t be sure. Someone was sleeping in her bed when I got home these past two nights, but when I returned tonight, no one was there. I can just see our story featured in this Fall’s Hamilton Alumni Magazine.
“The FreetZ and the Svede amicably went their separate ways in August after two years of living together in Brooklyn. ‘I love her. I always will,’ says the Svede. ‘But we had busy schedules. We had different schedules.’ When rumors flew that the FreetZ was off gallivanting around Rome with another bff, the Svede shrugged it off. ‘We’ve always supported each other, and I think we’ll continue to do just that.’ The FreetZ, who couldn’t immediately be reached for comment, later sent us a personal blog post linking to her most recent collage work, a construction paper and glue piece entitled, Ditchey the Switchey.”
Last night we celebrated Aunt Daphne’s birthday at Blue Hill with the Obamas. Then we went to the frying pan and drank beers on the Hudson. Uncle Paul wore a party hat the whole night. Success? Yes. Photos.
It was difficult to explain my temperament to my future roommate (FR). We looked at a total of four apartments this morning and I kept wandering through the bedrooms looking for the FreetZ. I don’t understand, I would say behind tears, this isn’t the Switcheys.
I also blame my clear lack of enthusiasm on the apartments which were mostly filled with cat litter-stained carpeting and other people’s laundry. My FR and I would look at each other and she would point to a hole in the wall and say, There’s a hole in the wall, and then we’d leave, defeated.
But this little trip made it pretty clear that things are changing and even though I like change and am sitting on this bolt bus chanting Yes I Can!, the prospect of moving and starting over is mildly altogether terrifying. The good news is that my FR is great. A friend of a friend who will also be getting a masters (and phd omg so smart) at Penn starting this Fall, she enjoys reading books, eating Wheat Meat (what?), and drinking local beers. FR blind date = success.
And then we found it. The apartment is a mile and a half from campus, four blocks from (substitute) gc’s new apartment, and sits above Philadelphia Bike Worx bike shop. o.m.g.w.i.n. My FR and I filled out the applications, put down our deposits, and I turned to her and said, I’m really excited. Good, she said, me too.
Then I listened to this song for the rest of the day and looked for places to study bearded boys on bikes.
