dave is leaving in a week, all my work is due within the next week and a half. my parents will be here in 2 weeks. photos due tuesday. humanities paper due friday. art history paper due monday. anthro paper due thursday. then 2 days to clean before parents get here. i think that's one thing every 3 days, and all the papers are 8-10 pages. and i still have 250 pages to read for anthro. i made progress today, but not enough. i finished marx and malinowski. argonauts of the western pacific, such a lovely book.
today donna cooked for us. mashed potatoes and corn muffins, it was good.
yesterday donna and i went to powell's downtown and looked at magazines in the coffee room. i got 4: harper's, adbusters, nylon, and soma. so many things with which to distract myself. (aren't you glad i didn't end that sentence with a preposition?) i have not been getting out enough. when we were in the coffee room i was dazzled by the people and noise. i think i spend all my time at home or school or en route. trips to the grocerey store just don't count as getting out, i think. it felt so festive at powell's, all those wholesome families and kids and smiling people talking to each other.
i'm used to the life within my mind or within the walls of this apartment, where the 3 of us keep up a constant exchange of ironic insults and nonsensical banter. these deranged antics always comfort me when i come in from the harsh outside world; i am assured either a warm welcome or something a lot stranger. donna and dave have been even more afraid to leave the house after we heard two gunshots--one last night and one this morning. dave (who knows these things) says they really sounded like gunshots. they were extrememly loud. both times i stuck my head out the window for a while, but i didn't see anyone dying or any police cars appearing. so we're mystified. it's the division street sniper who may fire at random.
i think i'll wear a dress tomorrow. love, becky