Love and scandal are the best sweeteners of tea. —Henry Fielding

15 August 2006

It's Fucking Hot Here

Still no internet at home. I'm cooling off in the Strozier Library on campus. I'm illegally parked, but I hope that no one cares because classes don't properly start until August the 28th and I didn't see any patrols around campus. (There's nowhere to park here, by the way; if you thought CSUP and UCLA were bad, you had no idea. At FSU they just assume you don't have a car. There are, like, only a hundred parking places on campus. I exaggerate as usual, but still.)

Did I mention it's fucking hot! And I can't get cable at my house. I don't give a shit, but I think my roommate is going to have a stroke when I tell her. We're going to have to get satellite. Hopefully we can get Dish Network since it's only $20 a month; that DirectTV bullshit is, like $45 a month.

It's quiet in the library. I never used to go to CSUP's. I liked when I could use the internet in the boisterous environs of the Theatre Department. (Cal Poly was cool like that: you never even had to leave the Theatre building.)

Eh. Sorry I don't call and I don't write. I'm not feeling at ease here and I feel like if I call any of you I'll just whine for an hour on the telephone. We can talk when I'm feeling more stable. Right now I'm in full, utter panic mode. I was on the phone with my dad yesterday having a nervous breakdown. (Not that he could help, but he was awake and willing to listen.)

Orientation starts on Monday and the schedule is—no joke—8:30a to 7:30p every day. They have us running all over campus and doing all of these workshops like maniacs. I will be happy when roommate arrives (and when my fucking furniture arrives), then I'll have someone to bitch-fest with (and somewhere to sit while I do it.)

Much love.
Call me if you really need to hear my voice, but be warned: the outgoing message is none too happy. I refuse to leave a crazy outgoing recording until I am comfortable here. (It may take a month or so...)

Peace Out.
Sake Bomb