So what if I’m avoiding the mail?

TFA letters were postmarked yesterday, and by my expert calculations it shouldn’t take more than 2 days for it to get from New York to Philly. Scary shit, and I’m really trying hard to imagine my rejection letter, and not dream of palm trees and salsa, and grown-up clothing.

Watched another stellar movie this morning in film class, “Fury” by Fritz Lang. Quality shit.
She: “I’m hard to get rid of”
He: “I know, you’re like my right arm…only I need you more.”

Then we talked about phallic symbolism in “The Little Mermaid” for 20 minutes, and went home. How much fucking better does that get? Freud, cinema, and early departures? That’s what I thought.

As mentioned before, I knew that if I came back to campus I’d go straight to the mailbox and be 1. disappointed that there was something in my mailbox, or 2. dissappointed that there wasn’t something in my mailbox. Instead, SHOPPING! Fresh fruit at the supermarket, plus sushi for lunch, then I indulged my desire to scope out the spring fashions at Suburban Square (oh, and Suburban in every sense of the word) which was super duper fun. The only thing I hate about that place is that everyone gets dressed up to go shopping. And here I stroll in from class, not having showered and wearing jeans and a t-shirt, [gasp, horrors] no makeup! Scandal. I think that I actually might have gotten sneered at in Ann Taylor. Whatever, dude.

Feeling quite proud of myself for resisting the oh-so-cute skirts and summery dresses (people, it’s still *cold* here), and only indulging in 2 half-priced tank tops from Gap, I returned to my ghetto-van with an air of triumph and a cup of white chocolate mousse from TCBY. That shit is soooooo good. THEN, topping off my culinary lunch, I break out the sushi when I get home.

Now this is Farmers’ Market pretentious sushi, and I’ve been less than impressed with Mainline sushi products as of late, so I was a little irked to shell out 6 bucks for 8 tiny rolls. Oh, woe be unto me me to ever doubt “Genji Express” again. This is how sushi takeout should be done: a soy sauce cup provided, decent non-splinter chopsticks, not-toot-tangy ginger, and fresh, tasty tender fish. It was so good that I wanted to clean my palate with the ginger in between fish flavors (salmon, whiting, and tuna) so that I could savor each one in their separate glory: salmon straight up or with a hint of soy; whiting with shaved green onions (plain!); and tuna with a touch of wasabi, or plain soy. Sigh.  I [heart].

Plus, and this is a real winner, Kaitlyn Luther, roommate extraordinaire, scoured the kitchen and master plumber David Henry temporarily fixed our eternally dripping bathroom sink. Wow. Now, if my room were only clean that would make one hell of a functional apartment.

Had a very productive and revelatory evening in the INSC last night working on the tesis until the library closed at 1:00 am, let’s hope today’s efforts go well too.

But I’ve still got to check my mail…


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