ugh, that didn't go well.

And it's not over, hooray!

Well, classes are over, but I still need to pry my transcripts from the hands of the administration, get my recs in order, blah blah. Applying to college multiple times is similar, I imagine, to being in Purgatory. (My friends tell me it's good practice for grad school - joy of joys, I have so much to look forward to.)

Here's a picture of dinner to cheer myself up:



Wild mushroom risotto with parmesan crisps. Mm.

how to kill yourself slowly:

Volunteer to write your term paper on the relationship between the image and the word.

Decide that this will be an even better idea when placed in the context of Islamic art.

Wait until eight hours before it is due to start writing in earnest.

if only i'd heard of this in my youth

For almost all four years of high school I wore my hair down to my waist. It was a huge pain in the ass. I spent inordinate amounts of time washing, conditioning, and untangling it and on one memorable occasion a close friend of mine helped me fashion it into a mohawk of sorts by giving me an undercut on the sides of my head (so I could wear my hair more conservatively around my mom and my teachers) and creating a formidable cement out of retail hair stiffeners, Elmer's glue, and egg whites. It was glorious. My height shot from 5' 3" to nearly 7' 1". I transformed myself from a surly, socially awkward teenager to a surly, socially awkward dimetrodon. I couldn't wait to go to the show to display my newfound splendor.

And then I found I couldn't fit my hair in the car.

I won't go into the ordeal of washing the muck out of my hair again. Suffice to say, if I'd known about the brilliant innovation that is fake hair shaped like animals I probably would have saved myself a lot of grief.