The Space and Sequence reception and Members Meeting was a success! Our little committee put together a nice food spread and the work looks really great. It's refreshing to see so many people in the library talking about books, holding books, looking at books. Invigorated by the foot traffic and compliments on my cookies, Ian and I checked out a teetering stack of comics while we were there.
This week I attached myself to my laptop and applied to as many awesome jobs as I could find. After our birthday festivities, I will apply to as many great jobs as I can find, then decent ones, then fine ones, then bartending. Here's wishing I'll never have to tip out a go-go dancer again.
Jenny is better, we're still not finished coning. Hopefully one more week of upset stomachs, sad looks, and really funny sound effects (when she runs into things it sounds like ka-chunk, ka-chunk.)
(The following anecdote contains cursing, look away!)
To add to the excitement, the general mental health of our corner has been suffering. Our new neighbor was committed for a week, and I spent one long night listening to a female neighbor right outside our bedroom berate the neighborhood until dawn. The street was empty except for the crickets and the breeze, and she sat on her porch drinking and yelling at an impressive decibel. "How easily they played me for a fucking mental!" She cursed everyone from Ralph Nader to the CIA, with particular ire towards Penn. "Send that message to the White House, UPenn!" I giggled in bed while the rest of the family snored (I don't know how) and counted how many silent seconds between the angry ones. 1 - 2 - 3 - "Put on your fucking thinking caps!" 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - "This ship is fucking sinking!"
Amen, sister.
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