Archive for October, 2003


fall break

much to my delight, College has a fall break that is similar to the more famous Spring Break. this wonderful event is happening this weekend, the 10th through the 14th! how glorious it shall be. more glorious than you think, even.

however, i still have to make it through this week. today, terrible tuesday, has passed, and technically, it’s downhill from here. except for a few bumps on the way. like a Calculus test. just a lil calculus test.

ARE YOU CRAZY?!?! this test grade determines whether i decide to drop the course due to my suffering GPA. so i haven’t really gotten over with the pain for this week. so if you don’t hear from me after wednesday, i’m probably crying. alone. in my dorm room. over my test paper and a calculator. the pencil’s eraser worn down past a tiny pink stub and into the metal. through my sobs, screaming out “oh why can’t you integrate dx/dy on the interval 1.5

but if not, and i do well, then praise be allah, yahweh, eloi, etc.

time to cleanse myself and sleep before i wake up again.


DDMM update time!

well, i suppose its time for a generic David ‘n’ Desiree at Mercer in Macon update! Brooke Cranfield kindly emailed me, asking a number of questions about my life here in Georgia. Since all of my readers are not here experiencing life with me at every moment, most people probably have the same burning questions in their mind. i discovered that perhaps it would be useful to post a select number of those questions and answers here, for all to see. Thanks, Brooke! we owe you one… or two… or thirty-two!
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friday

i talked to momma last night on the phone. now, i’m a big boy, i feed myself, i sleep sometimes, and i can antidifferentiate to find geometric volumes, but… talking to mommy makes me want to go home…

well i booked my flight home for thanksgiving. it was, to say the least, an ordeal. i had so much trouble, on the phone and on the internet, trying to get a realistic perspective of what flights exactly were available. but somehow, the internet gods smiled upon me, and i got a (relatively) low price and a (relatively) convenient time. actually, it’s more likely that i got that price because the internet gods weren’t looking when i snatched it up.

and now it’s friday. it will soon be saturday. and life is once again tricking me into thinking i have all the time in the world to do my homework. so i shall go play tonight.

i got the lafayette lagniappe in the mail today! for those unfortunate readers who don’t recieve the LL, once called the Houston Mirror, and also known as the Midland Memoirs, it’s the family newsletter my dad sends out to all of our friends. it is so fun. Man. when i get old, i’m going to put out a newsletter too. speaking of getting old, des thinks i would look a lot older with a mustache. which reminds me of a very special picture i know of in which my dad grew a mustache. and i laugh heartily just thinking of it. i wish i had that picture to share with you. but i do not. so here’s a different picture.

when i walked in tonight after din din, i saw my roomie sleeping in his bed. Any normal person might think, oh, how nice. he’s getting to bed early. But i know… he’s sleeping right now so he can wake up at midnight and party all night long. he probably won’t get in until 3 pm tomorrow. because he passed out. But its okay, because he’s cool and he’s very considerate. and we rock out on guitar.

i’m going to wash my clothes now, because i have no more clothes. i wore the same pair of shorts for a week. the washroom is always crowded, so i can rarely find time in my schedule to cleanse my garments. but not tonight. tonight, all the little fraternities and sororities are having their little party-tees and stuff so everyone is GONE! fare well! Soap Suds to the Rescue!


if i was a forest creature…

i rise each day before the morning sun breaks through the leaves onto the meadows; i take dew for my drink and sip nectar for my wine. i am a true woodsman… i can feel the green buds growing under my boots in the spring, i can taste a night-black storm brewing miles away. living only off the land, the land of my fathers, i built my home of the earth and girt my loins with its bounty. i store the wild wheat that grows in the west hills to sustain me during the snow-frost-white and waiting winter. i listen to the forest. the organic pulse of life, the heartbeat of the world comes from the depths of the forests. the songs of the birds are my conversation. after my work is finished, i recline at sunset, when the sky turns pink through the trees, absorbing the intensity of the cicada hum, meditating.

the only thing that frightens me is silence. silence is death.
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