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Friday, January 11th, 2002

Item One: Calendar
I have a "Forgotten English" desk calendar on my bookshelf (oo! watch me defy convention!) that has one antiquated English word per day. Some days, it's a phrase, such as 'old woman's luck' (meaning "having the wind in one's face both going and returning," January 6th). But most days, it's a word, like today's 'smicker' ("to look amorously or wantonly"). But on my birthday? The word is "dateless." Dateless. Meaning "stupid: stupedfied, dazed, without memory. From the analogy of a deed or letter which, without date, is legally useless." Well, that's just swell. I'm dateless. In either sense of the word, past or present, I'm a big old loser.

Item Two: Horoscope
I don't actually have this one on me, but the jist of it was that I'm better on my own, that intellectually I am smart but have a hard time convincing others of this, and that this year is not so hot on the romantic scale. And, again, that's just great.

Item Three: National [blank] Day
I found a list of National Holidays on the internet. What day was my birthday? Peculiar People Day. Need I say more?

So yes. All this leads me to believe that this next year may not be the year of bliss I had hoped it would be.

However, the birthday itself was none too bad. My parents called me at 6:50am (because they're up,so why isn't the rest of the world?) to sing to me, and after I hung up, I went back to sleep. I then slept until 9:10, twenty minutes until Art History, called Geoff and we decided not to go. We had a late breakfast and I went back to my room to try to do my Film readings, but decided to have a shower instead. Then I was late for Philosophy (note to self: half hour showers are not cool!), had to sit in the back with all the weirdos (including a guy who brought his cello - who brings a cello?!), went to Film, and then English. Then, nap time.

Went out with Geoff and Andrew, first to Indigo, where I bought myself a present, and then the Epicure, where they bought me french toast for dinner. Gotta love the Epicure.

On the way back to res, I stopped off at the front desk to pick up a package. A cake and balloons from my parents. I felt like a complete dork walking back with them, and later, trying to get people to eat my cake. Only two of my floormates would eat any. "Oh, I can't eat that! So soon after Christmas? Where's my rice cakes?" Give me a break. Your hips can't get any wider anyway!

Sorry, that was just mean.

Then Chel came over, and I made her eat cake. We talked for a bit, then she went home to watch Survivor. And I have to admit, I watched it, too. Not by choice, though. Well, sort of by choice. I went down to watch Angel (equally stupid, I know), but all three televisions were occupied with Survivor. Why did they use all three? Because the girls in my dorm are idiots, that's why. But I was already down there, so I figured, what the hell? And you know, it sucked just as much as I thought it would. And the female finalist looked like a lizard. I just talked to Tad on ICQ,and he was telling me that he was really hung over because he'd gone out with a girl whose birthday was also last night. I didn't tell him about mine, though. I kind of wish I could be there when he finds out, though. God, I'm so mean.