This weekend seemed to last forever. Friday, I had every intention of doing something productive besides just going to class, but that didn't happen. Instead, I bought an iPod and a pair of black bedazzled spandex pants to wear to a themed party. Saturday, I decided on a whim to drive four hours to visit my friend Tyler who goes to West Texas A&M in Canyon. We had never met in person before then. I ended up working a mardis gras themed fundraiser with him and a bunch of other broadcast majors from WT that lasted until midnight. Today, I drove back to OKC and almost ran off the road six times because I was texting.
My sister is coming to visit this week. Actually, both of my sisters are coming, my younger half-sister Faith and my older sister Charity. I'm trying to think of fun things to do with them while they're here, which should be a couple days. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I never really leave campus to do anything fun unless it's to eat out or go to the mall. Neither of those two activities are very interesting.
I'm becoming obsessed with my body. I've been investing a lot of time and effort into looking good and feeling good about myself, which is a positive thing I suppose. Since I've started sessions at my model training agency, I've become infatuated with looking my best. I go to the gym six days out of the week and spend at least an hour there each time. I guzzle protein shakes like there's no tomorrow, yet I don't seem to be gaining any considerable amount of weight. I've been drinking the protein shakes for about three or four weeks now, and I've been lifting weighs for a solid two months. I used to weigh 150; now I weigh about 153. I guess it's a start. To be honest, though, I'm the most defined I've been in my entire life. I actually have abs, pecs, and biceps now. I hope I don't get any taller than my current height.
Someone needs to turn down their booming car stereo. My window is cracked and I just heard the most deafening bass system drive by outside. It literally shook my blinds. I'm thinking about investing in a megaphone. Or a gun.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Salt On Leather
The weekend before last, we had an ice storm. Classes let out early Thursday and were cancelled Friday. It was beautiful. Except for the "whole mountains of snow and dangerous sheets of ice" thing. I went sledding down a hill by the law school on the corner of campus and hit my head on a pole. Thank goodness I didn't black out. That really would've ruined my free day. For a couple days afterwards, I tried to decide whether or not having my black puffy jacket smell like a wet dog from all the melted snow was worth the enjoyment of an hour of exhilarating sledding. The answer was yes.
Ice sickles the size of katanas soon melted when the sun finally decided to show up, later the next week. Now, the campus is recovering aesthetically. Muddy tracks left by the Bobcats clearing snow off the sidewalks and dried epsom salt can be seen everywhere.
My mom came to visit this weekend. She came to the first night of Stripped because I played for one of the shows. I had to navigate her to the right building on campus over phone during the first intermission. Whatever tiny sense of direction I inherited from my parents, I didn't inherit from her. I hadn't seen her since July. I almost started crying when I was talking to her after the show, which surprised me, because I normally don't get that emotional when I see my mom for the first time in a long while. I grew up bouncing back and forth between living with her and my dad, and she moved a lot, so I never really knew when I would see her, or for how long. But something about her being there with me after the performance and just radiating all her love for me, and me understanding and absorbing it, was beautiful and priceless. I love her so much.
So since February is Black History Month, the cafeteria decided it would be fitting to serve fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and collard greens last week. Not only that, but they also posted signs everywhere for Black History Month that featured four pictures in four separate quadrants, one showing a pair of presumably African hands primevally flattening a husk of corn against a stone. I think some people found that offensive.
Perhaps more importantly this month is Valentine's Day. I've decided to wear black.
Ice sickles the size of katanas soon melted when the sun finally decided to show up, later the next week. Now, the campus is recovering aesthetically. Muddy tracks left by the Bobcats clearing snow off the sidewalks and dried epsom salt can be seen everywhere.
My mom came to visit this weekend. She came to the first night of Stripped because I played for one of the shows. I had to navigate her to the right building on campus over phone during the first intermission. Whatever tiny sense of direction I inherited from my parents, I didn't inherit from her. I hadn't seen her since July. I almost started crying when I was talking to her after the show, which surprised me, because I normally don't get that emotional when I see my mom for the first time in a long while. I grew up bouncing back and forth between living with her and my dad, and she moved a lot, so I never really knew when I would see her, or for how long. But something about her being there with me after the performance and just radiating all her love for me, and me understanding and absorbing it, was beautiful and priceless. I love her so much.
So since February is Black History Month, the cafeteria decided it would be fitting to serve fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and collard greens last week. Not only that, but they also posted signs everywhere for Black History Month that featured four pictures in four separate quadrants, one showing a pair of presumably African hands primevally flattening a husk of corn against a stone. I think some people found that offensive.
Perhaps more importantly this month is Valentine's Day. I've decided to wear black.
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