The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain (jenni_the_odd) wrote,
The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain

  • Mood:
Holy mother of GRAPES, permanent account. I owe feyr my firstborn. Or some cookies. I think I am more likely to produce the cookies. OMG PERMANENT ACCOUNT.

There is a guy I knew in high school in my Accounting class. 'Knew' in the sense that we are both aware of each other's names, and we recognized each other. I don't recall ever actually holding a conversation with him, though we probably exchanged the usual classroom pleasantries - what's the assignment, can I borrow your book real quick. He sits near me, in that awkward way people have when their options are a room full of strangers or a seat near someone they sort of know and at least don't hate. Or perhaps I flatter myself, and he just couldn't be bothered to walk to the other side of the room (I sit close to the door). As soon as the first class was over he turned to me and demanded to see my sketchbook, grinning. I didn't even have a sketchbook out during the class. He realized this after a few seconds and said "You are still doing that art stuff, right?"
I pulled out the sketchbook and he thumbed through it. I realized this is only my second sketchbook since graduating high school, and this one isn't even half full. The last one is probably roughly half full, I tend to draw on every other page because otherwise the drawings show through.
After he handed it back, mentioning that I should submit it to that inky mysterious 'somewhere' that artists send their work to, I glanced around in hopes of not ending the conversation abruptly and awkwardly. "So, you still doing that... stuff... you do... Oh god, I know nothing about you."
We do not talk.

Belated happy birthday to neron, even though I STILL keep thinking his birthday is actually on the 28th. He has a sneaky ninja birthday.

I really need to mail some things. I keep meaning to. I need to write them first, though. And probably address and stamp them. That might help, with the mailing bit. Yes.

victory_radio is strutting down the hallway, with a dolphin sticker on his cheek. It is a thing of beauty. :D

... Oh god. Author of this page? My BCIS prof. Supposed to teach the fourteen of us HTML. I think that at the beginning of that particular unit, I will point him in the direction of the ML site and say "Okay, now, this site? I wrote it in NOTEPAD. It does everything that worthless little book you wanted us to buy* does, and more. Now, I am going to sit in my corner and check LJ, and you are not going to bother me for the next week, yes? Yes."
At least, that's what I do in my dreams. My sweet, sweet dreams. As it is, I sit with my two group members (a pair who share my general state of WTF regarding the surreal event that is this class**) and we pretend to work long after we've finished the inane assignments he gave us to do. Because if we don't pretend to work, we have to help those around us who cannot grasp the idea of copy/paste or who cannot follow toddler-level directions. And that is really not something we want to try at 8 AM.

*After reading through a classmate's copy, I chose not to. Nothing in there that I haven't used for years, even if my HTML is a bit rusty. If all else fails, online tutorials, baby.
**The other day? We learned how to resize a window. By clicking on the edge and dragging with our mouse. OH GOD WHY.

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