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Discord | Allamorph #4278
Skype | Allamorph

Stabilizing

Yesterday was a mild shock. I haven't 'moved on' yet, but I have at least settled to where I can still be mostly loopy around other people again. And doing things helps; I spent a few hours late last night helping some girl with her College Algebra homework and felt great because whatever I was saying was helping her see the right stuff, and she was knocking her homework right out—whereas before she was doing a lot of headdesking while her other friend was busy telling her what was going to happen without bothering with the why or how.

Anyway, I'm sure you all have heard that it's different when you hear about someone with a debilitating condition than when you find out someone you know has the same. It's true. But I think the kicker isn't so much that you have a face to put on the situation, but rather the memories involved with them and wondering if they've changed, and how much.

When I was tight with him, Cody was a card. (Well, in as much as a guy who's just on the straight side of gay can be a card.) As conceited as this will sound, it's rare for me to find a person who can play off of me in ways I don't expect, especially after I've just done the same to them. He did end up claiming to actually be gay, but those of us who knew him always joked that he didn't quite have the resolve to stay there; I remember saying once that he was 50/50 at best, though obviously we were just having a good time with it.

As of now, I don't know anything beyond what I said earlier. According to what I heard from my mother, there is a tumor on his brain stem, there's no way to operate on it, and he apparently isn't doing well. So what hurt most yesterday was wondering if he'd been affected by it by now, and if so how much.

I asked my mother to find out everything she can about the situation, and I'll be attempting to head home this weekend to see what I can see myself.

And thanks, guys. I know there isn't a lot you can say or do over the internet, but I appreciate the sentiment.

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There's construction going behind my dorm, where a parking lot used to be. I'm glad my window overlooks the lot so I can see stuff happen.

It occurs to me that dug up earth looks a lot like tasty brownie mix.

-_-

I just got a voicemail from my mother.

One of my old friends from way back in middle school has a tumor on his brain stem.

The doctors can't operate.

I feel cold.

Sometimes I wonder....

For a while I've been worried about my cell phone bill because I've been unable to find my checkbook. I dug through all my stuff at least twice this week and found nothing, despite knowing I'd brought it here—I distinctly remembered discussing with my father the ills of leaving it behind, while I was waving it about. (Brandishing, more like.)

And then today I remembered I'd stuck it into the box of checks.

I c whut I did thar.

Roneryness ensuing.

The campus internet is effectively banning me from the chat here. And lo, I am sad. For now I shall not be able to partake (or observe) in the shenanigans that occur regularly, or the movie night, or the anime night. And even worse, I can no longer meet people. That was the selling point for the damned thing, was me meeting people, since I know all of nobody here. (Figuratively speaking.)

The only solution I have come up with is the use of AIM's chat rooms. So chances are that on Mondays, Fridays, or any day when I am just frikkin' bored and want to be nuts with some people, I'll have a room open; "Null Space" is the room name, so feel free to invite yourself or whoever along. I tend to be either blissfully silent or absolutely spam-toki-tastic, so.....

Also, I'm terrible at marketing stuff. Basically, come if you feel like helping me feel less outcast–and if you don't have AIM then GET IT PLZKTHXDON'GOWAI.

ó_ò

Observations, Harriet Style

Copied directly from a notebook I have decided to start keeping. Anyone who has read Harriet the Spy will know what I am doing. Anyone who hasn't read it is strongly encouraged to do so.

On the shuttle bus this morning

Driver is thin, slightly on the gaunt side, with close-cropped hair, a striped polo shirt, and cargo khakis. Can't see shoes. No watch. He has two birth marks on his right elbow, and either an infected bug bite or a cyst on the forearm. Sunken eyes No, his eyes bulge slightly, and the sunken impression is cause by his jutting brow; his jaw juts as well. The eyes are tired, encircled by brown. Prominent nose.

Seems to be a jumpy fellow; his speech belies a slight nervousness or unsurety, and is slurred. Interesting that he does not take the direct path to campus. He also seems uncomfortable with silence.

Interior of the bus is clean at first glance, but a less casual glance reveals a multitude of rust stains. There is a greasy spot on the window next to me most likely left by someone's resting head.

Now Nervous guns the engine as we go up a hill. The engine has some admirable torque. Unexpected.

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In Calculus II

Driver was kind enough to drop us off in the Engr. quad. Only ten minutes late to class. Must take 7:00 bus tomorrow morning.

Professor is tall, with black hair dusted by white. Multicolored dress shirt: blue, tan, and white stripes, with red highlights. Black pants, belt, and walking shoes. His thin frame has probably gained weight with age, notably in the stomach, which rests on the belt. Large square glasses. Watch on left wrist; hard to tell from the back, but it appears to be silver-plated, with gold trim and a black face. Tick marks at every hour?

Classroom is basement level. Ironically, all of my MWF morning classes are in the basement. How fitting. All walls are cinderblock; the right (interior) is stacked aligned, and not alternating. Standard white paint. Blackboards line all but the left (exterior) wall. Ceiling is covered in spray-foam insulation, and cooling pipes run the course of it, entering from the rear and exiting to the right at front. Stop valves on the five pipes at left; two are covered in cancerous-looking mounds of duct tape. Fluorescent lights are fairly new and hang about a meter from the ceiling.

Classmates are definitely not on the upper end of the mental stratum. Fun. (Well, excepting one.)

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American History

Teacher is animated and projects very well. Estimate five-foot seven, full figure, shoulder-length blond (sandy) hair, tapered to mid-back. Bangs cut right at the brow. Calls herself Dr. O. Keeps a sports bottle of water on her desk. Dark blue summer dress with light blue leaf print pattern. Watches on both wrists. Interesting. Oval rimless glasses and large green leaf-shaped earrings.

Work on descriptions of complexion.

"I, however, am a brilliant teacher...." Very sardonic about students. Excellent vocabulary. Knows proper use of 'dulcet' and 'egregious'.

Will describe room later; same classroom twice on Wednesday.