Ok. We've seemingly worked out the images affair, and now that I've made them of a more digestable size, everybody should be able to see them. Just to round things over (and to check the quality in a bigger size), here's a shot of Corvux, the Grizzly (my Dad) and I. Take a look and tell me if they look as good as they should (I'm a lost case):
* * * * * *
On other stuff, I... yes, haven't studied at all yet. I know it's stupid, but I kind of think that if I'm meant to get in, then I will, and if I'm not, I won't, and if I study like crazy and still don't get in I'm gonna feel worse than if I don't study and I don't get in. Stupid but true. And it's stupid because I'm practically counting myself in and still I am not studying. Last time, I got 112 points out of 120, I studied a lot and I worried like crazy, and the cutoff point for English Literature that year was of 42 points. Yeah, no mistake, forty two. I guess that's why I found so many people at my classes who didn't even speak Spanish, let alone English.
Anyway, I know I should be studying, because first time I was fresh out of highschool and now I haven't placed a foot inside a classroom for well over three years. But I'm a procrastinator and I will probably stay up all Friday night trying to figure out the ever fascinating mysteries of analitic geometry. Aw-ful.
Ack. I am sick of smoking, I am feeling that taste in the back of my mouth, as though I've chewed on some cat dirt, and still I'm hunting for the ever-elusive cigarette stub with some use left. It's disgusting. Addictions are disgusting. Nicotine addiction is even worse. Physical addiction is not the worst, as I once told a good friend of mine: the worst part is the prospect of facing the rest of my life without a cigarette smoldering between my first and second fingers. I'll stop anytime soon, but it's a lost battle anyway. The most I've stopped smoking in the last ten years was 24 hours on one of my gallbladder crises, and it wasn't voluntary, it was because Belendor took all the cigarettes away from me and guarded my every move like a doberman dog until he got sick of my trying to sneak out with a cigarette and told me to die if I so chose to. But I'll stop. I promise.
For the time being, though, I guess I'll go to the bedroom now and see if Belendor's feeling horny today. Ciao.
* * * * * *
On other stuff, I... yes, haven't studied at all yet. I know it's stupid, but I kind of think that if I'm meant to get in, then I will, and if I'm not, I won't, and if I study like crazy and still don't get in I'm gonna feel worse than if I don't study and I don't get in. Stupid but true. And it's stupid because I'm practically counting myself in and still I am not studying. Last time, I got 112 points out of 120, I studied a lot and I worried like crazy, and the cutoff point for English Literature that year was of 42 points. Yeah, no mistake, forty two. I guess that's why I found so many people at my classes who didn't even speak Spanish, let alone English.
Anyway, I know I should be studying, because first time I was fresh out of highschool and now I haven't placed a foot inside a classroom for well over three years. But I'm a procrastinator and I will probably stay up all Friday night trying to figure out the ever fascinating mysteries of analitic geometry. Aw-ful.
Ack. I am sick of smoking, I am feeling that taste in the back of my mouth, as though I've chewed on some cat dirt, and still I'm hunting for the ever-elusive cigarette stub with some use left. It's disgusting. Addictions are disgusting. Nicotine addiction is even worse. Physical addiction is not the worst, as I once told a good friend of mine: the worst part is the prospect of facing the rest of my life without a cigarette smoldering between my first and second fingers. I'll stop anytime soon, but it's a lost battle anyway. The most I've stopped smoking in the last ten years was 24 hours on one of my gallbladder crises, and it wasn't voluntary, it was because Belendor took all the cigarettes away from me and guarded my every move like a doberman dog until he got sick of my trying to sneak out with a cigarette and told me to die if I so chose to. But I'll stop. I promise.
For the time being, though, I guess I'll go to the bedroom now and see if Belendor's feeling horny today. Ciao.
posted by gaby san at
6/10/2003 12:22:00 AM
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