I e-mailed the professor of the philosophy course I took spring of my senior year in high school at the UH. I wanted to see if he and his fiancee, who was also a friend of mine as she taught French at my high school, might want to have coffee to catch up. Turns out they've separated. Well way to start out on an awkward note. I hate it when people I like break up. Except when I don't. (For the in tune listener [reader?] that was a note of irony. For those who are confused, that last note had nothing to do with this story, so don't worry.)
Meanwhile, I probably have to drop the summer courses I was going to take because so far, out of the dozens of applications and resumes, I have one job offer, and she needs me only 20 hours a week, which would fit perfectly around Stats 121 and "Pidgins and Creoles", except that she needs me, you guessed it, at exactly the time those classes are offered. This is especially unfortunate considering that I expect this job to be of the sort where you can sit and do homework all day.
Because I am pathetically lonesome trapped in my beautiful Hawaiian home, the new summer TV shows seem like news in my life. Ha. ABC family has a new show, brought to me by the people who created my favorite genre of TV show: the Canadian teen soap opera. That's right, folks, Degrassi has evolved into Falcoln Beach, a show about college age people who have no life, and yet plenty of drama. How enlightened, how perfect! There's even a bitchy but reforming blonde named Paige to have a love-hate relationship with, and date the hot surfer-type guy. What more could I ask for? Besides some tequila. It would have gone really well with my guacamole tonight.
I miss tequila. I miss my friends who get drunk and do unadvisable but entertaining things while drunk on tequila, and I miss doing it with them.
Emily, Earl, Jose, why are you so far away?
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