The next 75 minutes consisted of a marblemouthed assistant taking about 65 X-rays of my mouth and a very nice young dentist in training scraping at my inflamed gums with metal hooks and asking whether it hurt while he wiped away the blood with so much gauze that he had to actually break open a new box. The sad thing is that I actually liked it. I had someone constantly asking whether he was hurting me and if I was okay (I answered no to the first and yes to the second even though the truth was the other way around) and more importantly I had no pressure. No need to be reading 1200 page course packs or preparing to get cracking on papers or checking email hourly in the vain hope that maybe she has changed her mind. Just the there and then, and as painful an experience as it was I enjoyed it because it was a break from my life and a purely physical kind of pain. I spent half the time trying to figure out what was more uncomfortable, having someone scrape your nerves with a sharp metal pick or nearly drowning from a mouth full of dental water and a horribly stuffed head, but god damn it it was better than the agony of my existance as it stands right now. After I was done with the dental pain I was late to my lit-hum class and because I hadn't done the reading I decided to pretend that the Dentist had done something to my mouth which would prevent me from speaking. Of course I got bored with the ineptitude of my classmates and their inability to answer even the simplest and most specific questions so I ended up saying a fair amount and explaining my previous silence away as inflamed gums that went down over the course of time, which wasn't entirely false. Then I went home through the rain and collasped on the couch. I had a nice and not TOO big lunch and wanted very much to go to sleep. So tired I could barely think about moving let alone move. But class came again FAR too fast and I actually did manage to rouse myself from my comfy comfy seat to head out into the rain and the dismal torture chamber of academia. Actually my Japanese history class wasn't too bad, the teacher was pretty amusing and we ended early. Always a good thing.
Of course I found out that I have a 9:00 AM discussion section every friday which I'm NOT too happy about. It was the only time I could make, but I was planning on having NO class on fridays. Now I have two discussion sections and one of them is at 9:00 AM when I specifically structured my schedule so I had nothing before 11:00. *Shrug* Erin teaches French at that same time so if she didn't think of me as human mildew that might actually be a convenient time to meet. But as it is I'm just going to be uncomfortable and tired for the next 15 friday mornings (today included). And I am teaching on thursday which means I'll get home late and have to wake up early. Can I get a referee in here to call life on all these low blows? I mean I'm not even wearing a god damned cup and I never signed on to have my nuts used as punching bags.
After Japanese history came all the fun and excitement of statistics. We had a new professor this time, a guy with a really thick eastern European accent and a very American attitude. All tests will be open note AND open book. He won't really be checking on whether we go to computer tutorial, and he made fun of how easy some of the stuff he was teaching was. I felt bad for anyone who had had a less rigorous high school mathematics experience than I did, but it WAS pretty easy. I sat up front in my last two classes and made some comments to wile away the time. Adam's a pretty interesting guy and fortunatly I spoke to him enough over the summer that he's not JUST representative of spanish class and the one-whose-name-I-shall-not-speak-again. He's an inventor and he bummed around a few colleges before ending up at Columbia which he says "Cracked his mind wide open." I then proceeded to stagger to the copy shop where I spent $50 on another HUGE course pack that I watched the guy make (pretty cool) and then had to carry home with a ream of paper staggering with exhaustion (not quite as cool). Once home I don't remember much of the rest of the night except taking some cold medicine which made me feel a little better and writing most of this journal entry which is why it's disjointed and why it starts off so depressing. One thought I do remember having was about how the livejournal process is partially dishonest because simply expressing feelings/thoughts tends to make them les intense so whatever you write and put down as your mood is probably not going to be strictly true for long. You're recording how you WOULD feel without livejournal rather than how you actually feel. Sorta interesting. It's a similar problem I have with music. I feel like I can't change music during my entries because that would be dishonest. If I listened to Train and then Consumed but only put down Train I would not be being accurate, and that upsets me.
I still feel isolated and lonely but I think I've crossed the hump towards internalizing enough that it doesn't matter so much. My openness has closed somewhat and so the bitter winds that blow through my life can't get to my flesh so easily. I'm still ravaged by all the events of the end of winter vacation (The time I spent fearing for my friends safety as much as the time I spent obsessing over the-one-whose-name-is-henceforth-banishe
I don't have anything deep or clever to say at the moment. I just want to lie down and sleep the weekend away while feeling sorry for myself and bemoaning my future. But I'll survive, and next time I tell Jeff that I don't want to make an effort or open myself up or show anyone who I really am I'll have proof as to why and the disasterous results that can occuf if I do. Small comfort the next time I think up a clever observation I can't share with anyone I know because they are too limited in experience and interest to understand it, but comfort nonetheless. And I'll take what I can get at this point.