surfeit...quaff...truculent...and all of middle school math

These are the things I am attempting to learn today in preparation for my 3:30 GRE appointment. Did you know quaff means to drink deeply? I did not. That is wonderful. And worth the price of admission.

I've talked to my professors about recommendations. That ups the ante on this test, because now there are other people who are counting on me to go through this application process, whose hearts are in it. That's what makes a risk worth taking, isn't it? I didn't understand that in high school. I was just bitter against the incredibly lucrative but largely pointless (and completely class biased) standardized test infrastructure. I still am. It's stupid that some random company in New Jersey can decide that in order to even apply for a Ph.D. in the humanities I need to demonstrate my skill at quadratic equations. But, but. It's like a game, isn't it? A championship basketball game, and your classmates are rooting for you, and sure it's only a game but it counts for something, because your hearts are all in it together and if you win, you'll all feel good together. That's worth the risk of disappointing people.

tan lejos de dios

tan cerca de los estados unidos

I am not actually in Mexico, but I am close. It was an amazing drive, a straight highway with sky all the way around me and plains full of sage in both directions. I have never gotten to drive that fast before. I got to La Joya just in time for Thanksgiving dinner.

Laurel on Boston: I don't hate it. I just don't like it. There are all these college kids. It's too white. And the roads suck.

Laurel on Connor Oberst: He's just a self-centered Mid-Westerner with no sense of humor.

Laurel and Tom are making fun of me furiously from the futon. That's OK, I'm going to find the link to Tom's blog and post it. Then we'll see what he has to say for himself, with his secret blog. I love these kids. But I'm going to need to find myself a new family in 1 (one) month as I am too poor to go home for Christmas and my parents are too poor to come here, and Laurel is abandoning Texas for the week. We are going to watch a movie now, either Tommy Boy, Punch Drunk Love, or...Lilo and Stitch. Tom has lots of great horror movies but Laurel doesn't want to watch any of them. No Evil Dead II for Anna...

moved.

I did it.
* Miles between old house and new apartment: 1.5
* Trips between old house and new apartment: 5
* Garbage cans lost to rented Home Depot pick-up truck which was the aproximate size of my new apartment: 0, because although I ran squarely over the garbage can while backing into the driveway once I kicked it out from under the truck it sprang back into shape like the champion garbage can that it is.

I love my new place beyond all reason. I am still exhausted and anxiety-ridden after trauma that was last week i.e. nasty confrontations with now ex-roommate and much, much worse state of the world in general i.e. Fallujah offensive, Ivory Coast explosion, Palestinian government turmoil due to Arafat's failing health (possible opening for new peace process partners?) and the election of a president who is not equipped to deal with any of these things but is all set to privatize social security, continue rollback of all environmental protections, reverse Roe v. Wade, etc.

In the end my roommates were just not very nice people.

It feels like I just moved to Austin all over again, except this time, with jobs.