It's All Over
For the semester, that is. Kind of over, anyway. I suppose I should be grading these final portfolios but instead I'm staring dreamlike at a stained glass unicorn in the Gilman Reading Room at Hopkins. What was simply a pulsing, existential hangover yesterday has turned into a pleasant melancholy, enough brainflip to think back over the last four months in Bmore. It's been aight, hon. I like it here now.
Friday night the Writing Sems had an end of semester celebration at the Hopkins Club, with a free open bar and Andre 3000 (his name was actually Chad but damn he looked like Andre 3000) serving up strong Cosmos and Chocolate Eggnog martinis. By the end of the night we basically just told him to pour whatever he wanted to into a martini glass.
I ate as much shrimp and crab and salmon and prime rib and mini tortes as I could, just like any boho grad student would, figuring it would take the edge off any hangover. We went to the Mount Royal afterwards, a MICA haunt (so this is where all the cute art students hang out-- damn, I'll be back here soon).
I'm feeling pretty good about things right now. A few weeks ago I had a little epiphany and was just about ready to get down on my hands and knees and say, "I want the machine!" Drill a hole in my head and give me lotsa Vicodin and maybe some old video games to play for a few weeks. Everything just opened up. Suddenly I realized who the %$&#^ cares if I have an implant or not? When it comes down to it, I'm going to hear better, be more social and be more myself than perhaps I've ever been. Am I going to be a freak with an electronic fridge magnet stuck to the side of my head? Yes, I will be a freak, but I already am a freak. Note for all fetishists out there, if you want to get it on with a Lobot, I'll be waiting for you.
Friday night the Writing Sems had an end of semester celebration at the Hopkins Club, with a free open bar and Andre 3000 (his name was actually Chad but damn he looked like Andre 3000) serving up strong Cosmos and Chocolate Eggnog martinis. By the end of the night we basically just told him to pour whatever he wanted to into a martini glass.
I ate as much shrimp and crab and salmon and prime rib and mini tortes as I could, just like any boho grad student would, figuring it would take the edge off any hangover. We went to the Mount Royal afterwards, a MICA haunt (so this is where all the cute art students hang out-- damn, I'll be back here soon).
I'm feeling pretty good about things right now. A few weeks ago I had a little epiphany and was just about ready to get down on my hands and knees and say, "I want the machine!" Drill a hole in my head and give me lotsa Vicodin and maybe some old video games to play for a few weeks. Everything just opened up. Suddenly I realized who the %$&#^ cares if I have an implant or not? When it comes down to it, I'm going to hear better, be more social and be more myself than perhaps I've ever been. Am I going to be a freak with an electronic fridge magnet stuck to the side of my head? Yes, I will be a freak, but I already am a freak. Note for all fetishists out there, if you want to get it on with a Lobot, I'll be waiting for you.
posted by Franz K at 9:35 AM
1 Comments:
Pleasant melancholy of excessive drinking... I'll try that myself in the near future and hope the booze is smoother than lao lao... or perhaps I'll hope it's just as harsh since it adds zest to the experience.
On this coast I've been forging ahead...wondering if I can actually leave the states to travel when I'm madly in love with a woman who might not be able to go with me...
Dreaming...
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