All of these Anthrax scares must be really rough on America’s cocaine addicts.
by krisis
Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand
by krisis
All of these Anthrax scares must be really rough on America’s cocaine addicts.
by krisis
I am back in Philadelphia, complete with my newly mellowed red hair and my newly mellowed personality that i have yet to assign a color to and this newly hollow ache for the tiny slice of else i had this weekend. Normalcy and a different city and walking around and being happy — things that i can’t really necessarily apply to Drexel and Philadelphia, but i try. Today i walked into the Admissions Office and everyone fawned over my hair for a solid hour before i got to do any work. Last night i got 100% on my first test of the quarter. Baby steps on a long walk.
There is a door in the frame of my room and it feels so very different to shut it and be insulated from the rest of the apartment except for the hi frequency bleed-through from Lindsay’s room downstairs. I am cocooned in my warm-lit green and white and brick, slowly working through my stack of Boston music and making a point of looking forward to tomorrow and the next day. Because, even though i might not see a point in either of them, somewhere past there there is a day that i want to be on and i’ve got to live the inbetween to get there. That’s how getting places works; you have to endure the inbetweens.
by krisis
I don’t feel like any of that said what i intended to say, but i have to write a short story in the next twenty minutes, so you’ll just have to stew for a while.
by krisis
Our trolley stop was smack in the middle of the Boston University campus. As we got on the car and slowly excused ourselves towards the back the conductor came on over the loudspeak in his accent and said “You all need to move towards the back. The NorthEastern students never seem to have a problem with this.” Everyone chuckled, and a few people actually moved and then the trolley was moving and then life was moving.
I meant to go to BU. It was too expensive and far away but i didn’t really care; it was probably the one educated choice i made in the entire college application process. At some point on Monday Rabi and i were crossing a street and she said it was sortof funny that i was here in Boston with her because i meant to go to college there within a five minute walk from her house. I didn’t think it was too funny, though, because i’m not sure that i would have ever met Rabi if i had actually packed my bags and headed out to a college outside of my own state. Joining blogger was the culmination of a chain of events that included shifts in content of my own website and my addictedness to Shafted, and i can’t necessarily say that it would have happened if i was anywhere else but here. Having my own blog was a response to boredom, and a response to needing somewhere to write, and a response with dissatisfaction with Shafted. Furthermore, i only kept at blogging because of the instant gratification of appearing on Power Bloggers and the audience that it slowly attracted. In fact, i never actually found Rabi through searching for other bloggers in the area, but by reading through all of the blogs on PB on one lonely night when she was on the list.
The labyrinth of life can be amusing. Sometimes you can wind up with the same outcome no matter which turn you make, whether that outcome be having a certain friends or spiraling into a deep depression. Other things are so rare that you might have missed them had you taken the long way home from class… a car accident or meeting your future wife. Rabi seemed to think that all those twists and turns would have lead us to each other eventually anyway, but i feel the exact opposite; we would have existed in the same universe, but i don’t know that our paths would have ever crossed.
I still like Boston, and i still almost wish i wound up at BU, but sometimes i reckognize that more things make a dent on your life than just the school you go to and the city you live in. And, those dings and scratches can really add up.
by krisis
While i rampantly kvetch, whine, and moan about some aspects of the blogging community and its audience, i often forget that i am a member of many subsets of said community. One of those is being Drexel Blogger, and seeing as we are a sparsely populated group i am often the easiest to find. I began to rebut the Noisy Boy of last post about journaling as a communicative act in the middle of the hallway outside our classroom and when i brought up my involvement with the community he said “yeah, i know.” As it turned out, though he didn’t necessarily bring the topic up to bother me he was fully aware that i might have something to say about it seeing as it directly applied to me.
Rabi and I were talking about popularity and how it lends itself to affecting our real life, and she mentioned that she clears her history on public computers at school so no one stumbles onto Wockerjabby, yet she still finds it in the history of a lot of computers. I’ve never done any such thing — i figured that hardly anyone just randomly stalks the history of their public laptop and if they do i could easily win myself a new reader. Lately i’ve checked out a wide array of our Creese Center laptops, and almost all of them quick-completed my address before i could finish typing it. I didn’t think anything of it at the time…