it's 4:38 pm, on January 22, 2003 - tar pit.

~

Another day at school. I talked to Caitlin, before y'all ask. She actually approached me, and we ended up sitting together in Roman Epic. It was exciting. In that, I'm-so-grade-school way. At least it means I have a reason to be in classes, I figure.

Because y'all need to know these things. In case a pop quiz comes up. or something. yes, that's facetious.

Also, out of sheer boredom today, I actually did research. I was sitting in the computer lab at school and the computer was boring me so much I started fiddling around with the library website. Which we all know from first hand experience is a one-way ticket straight to Purgatory.

Seriously, right now I envision Purgatory as this kind of never-ending parade of links, bibliographies, journal title search engines, and annotations.

"What's that noise?"

"Oh, just someone coming full circle on the Library of Congress thesis-in-progress list webpage."

"What kind of eternal torment is this?"

"Oh, this is just Purgatory. When we finally sort you, you'll get your permanent research assignment rated by Circle of Hell."

You all know how it goes, I'm sure. Every single page is yet another links page. No one has journal articles listed by journal title. It's always very obscure volume number only. and should you find a journal article's full annotation? There's no way you're going to be able to find the journal on the library website. Because that would be too easy.

In my life right now, I fear two things unequivocably. They fill me with utter terror. One is getting lost in the stacks one day, and having to wander around the library bookshelves calling out "here, article, come to mama..." It's a tragic end, forced to float through life with that vague hope that one day, yes, you will find the source you're looking for.

The other is the prehistoric puddle of tarpit my dad is creating from scratch in the garage.

Have I told you this story yet? Dad's rebuilding a volkswagon van in the garage, right. Which in and of itself is amusing to a level I can't even begin to describe. Only he's cleaning all the engine parts, all the muck and grime and shite. Soaking them in solvent or something, scrubbing away at years and years of buildup to get them clean. And in doing so, he's created a dinosaur tar pit roughly large enough to solve the world's oil crisis.

You think I'm joking, but I'm not. Every week there's a new pan of tar sitting in our garage, and I swear, my hand to God, it has things living in it. I'm deathly afraid of going into that room for fear of tripping, having something reach out and grab me, and it pulling me into the ooze.

"Where's Disa?"

"Oh, she went to check the mail, I think. Went through the garage."

"Wasn't that like, an hour ago?"

And from the depths of our basement something will gurgle in the approximation of a burp.

~

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what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015

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