The dirtiest work usually finds itself on my desk. Yesterday, I returned to scene of the crime to request funding for various endeavors, namely Salsa Club and Social Dance Club. I stood before the ASI Board of Control, pleaded my case, and damn near received every penny requested. I think next time, I’ll be a bit greedier, since they were so free with the purse. Either they had money to burn, or my eloquent persistence dazzled them beyond reason. Since my ego isn’t currently in my pocket, a victory is a victory.
I went to share my news with my staff, and proceeded to mock them about being in summer school. Of course, this was preceded by me being informed that one of my former salsa teammates is pregnant. It’s a…tough case for me for a plethora of reasons. Alright, maybe that’s an overstatement, because I can’t really say that I’m emotionally invested in the situation. However, I can muse about a few interesting tidbits. For starters, this is the second consecutive year a girl got pregnant in CSULB Salsa. Second, she’s the second pregnant person I know of, including a coworker, who I have teased incessantly. Third, horrible pregnancy jokes seem to be my forte. I do not necessarily mean the jokes I say, but I’ll be damned if I don’t issue them with alarming conviction. I’ve come to spell “fail” with a couple of choice substitutions, which is always great for starting a party. This comes on the heels of me reading a study saying the more educated I am, the less likely I am to have kids. I’m going for my MA. Most likely collecting a terminal PhD. Maybe this having kids thing while still young has merits…
I’ve got smashing news: my three sections for COMM 110 are full! I’m uber-stoked about this, verily I am. Gee, that didn’t sound like me; that sounded rather forced. I looked at the roster for my final class, and it is my luck that they’re all science majors. Stiffs. I detest stiffs. I detest stiffs with the passion of a thousand burning suns. Groovy. Since I’m heading into that dangerous area known as the home stretch, an eerie calm controls the mood. Must prepare to enroll, move out, and grow up. Also, I have to figure what I’m working towards, because I haven’t a single clue. Sure, I have the big picture thing, but what about the even bigger picture? No, there’s no bigger picture? Bah, humbug. Skibbedebebop. Much later.
Current Track – Art of Dying “Get Thru This”