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the river won't flow for me no no no

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Nov. 27th, 2000 | 11:54 pm
mood: blahblah
music: New York Broadway Cast Recording - I'd Give It All For You

My schedule next semester is great. Well, great considering that I am premed and all. I have honors chem on tuesdays and thursdays... and chem lab thursday afternoons. playwriting tuesday afternoons, recitations friday mornings and writing workshop and world cultures fit neatly together on mondays and wednesdays from 12:30 - 3:15 collectively. Oh, and I have an interesting topic for writing sweatshop next semester, as well. So it's all good.

One more night here (not counting tonite) before I go home again.

Things to do:
See lab professors and make sure wednesday absence will be excused
Write and turn in proposal for Scholars project
Talk to Iantheia
Ask Chem professor what to do about turning in Homework. Since the TA is dead.

(and for those of you who think my chem TA is really dead, he's not. He just doesn't bother to answer emails, and doesn't have office hours... it's rather frustrating. Ah, well. At least my midterm and final grades will be good... even if my homework portion of the grade dies. But it shouldn't.)

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas around here... lights, stockings (I have been allocated one with a skiing moose on it because I protested having a Santa Claus one... although I've told everybody here that I don't celebrate Christmas.), trees, everything. It's beginning to make me sick... because I don't like conflict and confrontation. But I'm not going to mess around, either.

Mitchell A. Leaska, you are the most insensitve prick I have ever met. Too bad you are my professor so I cannot truly give you a piece of my mind. But you had no right to tell me that I shouldn't be concerned about my mom having surgery. "she's not going to die, therefore you don't have to be there." Yes. Yes, I do. And you don't know. It's not like this is one of the one hour minor surgery proceedures of which she's had more than I can count in the last four months alone. This is 5 hours at best, probably 7 or 8. This is serious. It is risky. I don't expect you to understand any of this since it's my life and not yours, but you could at least have the courtesy of respecting my decisions. I should not have to justify being with my mother when she is having seriously major surgery. Any decent human being could understand that it's serious.

Mitchell A. Leaska, I don't ask you to agree with me, but I'm tired of being wrong all the time. My life is my life and my decisions are my decisions and they are for me to make, not you. They are not wrong, and you are fortunate that I share them at all. You need to get off your high horse that you think you are the be-all and end all of the universe because newsflash:: you're not. You're not always right, your observations are not general truths that everyone should take as some profound wisdom that will cause them to rearrange their entire lives. Get over yourself.

If you're still reading, thank you for enduring my spewing.

It's easy to hide from the things that you fear, and harder to blindly trust what you can't understand

and dreams just don't come true.

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