August 28th, 2002


(no subject)

Yesterday's classes were Criminology, Behavior Disorders, Experimental Psychology, and the Experimental Psych Lab. Parking sucked. Parking sucked so much that instead of trying to leave the campus in that congested mess -- the streets around campus were like a parking lot! -- I walked to the comics shop a few blocks away and to the video store. Yeesh. Oh, and I also saw an accident occur.

Today, I got to school at 7:15 so I acutally found a good parking space. Got some more textbooks right when the book store opened to avoid huge lines. Went to classes. Whew!

Today, parking was ESPECIALLY bad because they're filming a movie. Yes, Bring It On Again, the sequel to Bring It On of course, is shooting on my lovely campus, causing major headaches. Now, living in LA I've gotten used to seeing industry people filming crap all over the place (several television shows were shot at my high school, I got stuck in traffic once because they were filming on the side of the freeway, a park I used to go to was used a lot, etc.) but this was a little much. Taking up OUR parking spaces with their vans and trailers and such. Grrr. The level of pissed-offedness over parking at my school is rising every day.


Do you write? Do you wish you could write? An essay about good words.

Do you ever really want to read a book, know that you have that particular book somewhere, and yet can't seem to find it? My fingertips are partched with dust from me looking through my stacks to find this book. I KNOW I have it, and yet, it's not there. This isn't a book I've lent out. Those leave sad empty places on the bookshelves of my mind and I remember every one of them, especially the ones that never found their way back to me. No, I can SEE this book on the shelves in my mind, it's THERE. And yet, reality does not reflect this. The book has gone to the same place that missing socks go.

In other news, I was right about actually starting to write while I should be taking notes. I write some of my best stuff when I should actually be paying attention in class. Oh well.

I have come up with a new Harry Potter story. Harry's dead. So are a lot of other people. Ron is the DADA professor. Oh, and I also have one where Arthur had a kid on the side no one ever knew about so Ron is the seventh son of the seventh son, making him all cool and stuff. Ron obsession, building, building! But! I must write co-Ron/Draco with Al, or she may kill me in her frustration! This I shall. Tomorrow. In class. Heh. (Or maybe on the bus.)
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