on acs and anemones

I am currently staring at the brown pages of my 4th-generation American Cultural Studies textbook and wondering why, over 4 generations, no one bothered giving the poor sod a plastic cover. Seriously, in terms of book-years, this book of mine is a great-grandmother already. You know the discolouration old people develop on their skin? My book has them. Plenty of them. I feel like I'm paging through my grandma. Why do I need to learn about America when I am already having America shoved at my face everyday? But I don't really mind. ACS is pretty interesting and has boundless possibilities for fun.

I think I need a haircut. Nowadays, the verb 'look' no longer applies. suiying does not look at people. suiying does not look at her laptop screen. suiying does not look before she leaps. She peers. Her eyes do the visual equivalent of hacking through the jungle of tall grass and vines. No, really, I'm serious. My vision is constantly blocked by curtains of stringy black stuff. I wear my glasses like swimmers wear goggles - to stop stuff getting into my eyes. Gaaaaaa. Price of vanity. Amy says it'll be 3 more weeks before I'll stop looking like a sea anemone. Oh look, Nemo.

Which reminds me. I lost my uber cool nerdy glasses. It's probably in the library. If it is not, I am so doomed. Why do I keep losing my glasses. This must be the seventh one I lost. Damn.

And I've begun to sleep in weird places at weird times in weird positions again. Weird being 1) not on a bed. 2) not from 12 to 6 am. 3) not completely horizontally. Well, of course 2) has never really happened before, but I thought I had everything under control already. Guess not. Oh, and Amy's having fun taking unflattering photos of moi, her one and true love in this world. She is so in love with me :D

There. a long string of, in Beluga's squeaky cartoon voice, memememememememememe.