Today's rambling: Full o' anger
Written on Friday, Oct. 10, 2003 at 2:51 p.m.
while feeling a bit

We were just starting to play Taboo last night (our Phi Sig Pi activity) when my cell phone started ringing. I had turned the volume up almost as high as it could go, so that I could leave it in my schoolbag and still hear it. Thankfully, I'd already told the initiate advisor what might happen, so she didn't look down upon me for having my phone on. We're not allowed to use them during study tables/activities, but I think this situation was a little special.

Anyway, I answered the phone, and it was him. I looked at Johnna, said "It's my dad," and was crying even before I was able to get out of the room. Felt a little stupid there; I don't like crying in front of people (even though it happens a little too often). I think I must have freaked Dad out, because he asked if I was alright...I wailed out "I miss you sooo much!" and he said he missed me too.

We talked for like 20-30 minutes, but that was it. And, funnily enough, despite the two years (or however long it's been) since we talked, he was every bit as unemotional and analytical as before. I can't explain it, really. True to his Dad self, he got on my case and asked why I hadn't tried to get in touch with him. I explained that I was scared, and he was all like, "I told you I wanted to stay in touch with you; you were the one who shut me out!"

"I was angry," I explained, wondering if I wanted to talk to him after all. But I know I needed to. It was just kind of funny that the first time we talked in so long, he's already doing the lecture thing again.

He wants me to visit him for a few days over Christmas break. But he's living with La Whore. "You don't have to get along with her," he explained, "but I don't know if I'll be able to get down there at all."

'Get along' with her? The moment I saw her, I'd lunge for her throat. I will never forgive that woman, and I am completely serious when I say if I ever see her again, I'll hit her. Whether it be a resounding slap or a rather solid punch, I know not. It all depends what kind of anger would bubble up upon sight of her buck-toothed face. But yeah, definitely not going up there to visit him. Which is sad. But that's the way it is. I don't like Toad either, but he, at least, didn't come in and try to wreck our family. He just came in later. La Whore effectively tore apart the family, and I just can't forgive her for all that heartache.

At any rate, Dad said he was very proud of me for being in college, he sounded kinda impressed that I was on the radio...maybe I'll make him a demo tape of me. I could do that, at least. We chatted a bit about my drinking experience from last weekend, and he lectured a bit again, saying something like, "I don't want you to stop doing it because it made you sick, but because it's not good for you." So yeah, it was a deserved lecture, but considering I've already beat myself up for it about as much as anyone can do...

I was afraid that after we hung up, I wouldn't be able to go back to the activity because I'd be too upset. Erin, the vice president, came out at one point and mouthed "Are you okay?" and I nodded, and thankfully after Dad and I finished talking I was fine. I went back in, took my turn at Taboo, and then we got to play the infamous trust games. I'm telling you, this fraternity does things SO much better than the social Greeks do.

Yesterday was just a really stressful, draining day. Geoff called to tell me that Tim had been put into the hospital overnight for observation. Tim had been complaining the day before of chest/back/neck-ish aches (I can't remember what exactly the symptoms were), and then I guess at like 5 am he woke up and yelled with pain. As Geoff and I joked, for Tim to wake up for any reason at 5 am must mean something. Tim sleeps almost as late as I do. Anyway, Geoff suggested he go to the doctor--funny in itself, since Geoff won't even go to a doctor for his problems--but when they got back home, the doctor called and told Tim to get to the emergency room. So they kept him overnight for observation, and Geoff said he'd called "because I thought you'd want to know." I guess they were close to ruling out any problems with the heart, and Geoff thinks that maybe Tim pulled some muscles when they moved their air conditioners down to the basement. That's a lot of stairs they had to walk, and those air conditioners aren't exactly light. It's a good possibility that that's what he's suffering from. I just really hope he's okay. Geoff said he'd call me, but he's such a scatterbrain. *grins* I still love 'im, though.

To top it all off, last night before I went to bed I was talking to Kevin a little bit, and I told him that one of the girls in my initiate class was going to the play on Thursday. He plays a doctor in this play, and it's a more significant role in this one than in last year's play, so naturally he's excited about it. He asked if I was going, and I replied, "I already told you I can't."

"Please?!!?"

The excess amount of punctuation marks rubbed me the wrong way...not because he used too many (lol) but because he was doing his little whiny plead thing over the Internet. I hate the little whiny plead thing. If I say I can't do something, it means I can't. End of story. It doesn't mean "This is a sign for you to beg and whine and do everything you possibly can, because I'll change things around to accomodate you." I'm not that sort of person. ... Well, not usually, anyway. Definitely not in this case.

Blah blah, I reiterated that I couldn't, and he was all like, "You don't know how sad this makes me."

WTF?? Ummm, thanks for the guilt trip, but I didn't pack for it! I'm going home next Friday. There's no way I'm going to stay here just to see him in a play. And the other nights that it'll be playing, I'll have Phi Sig Pi stuff. I might--might--ask Johnna if I could go one night, but being there for the activities is important. She's not unreasonable, but I don't want to miss these things, you know? And she might not even let me go anyway because I don't technically have a good reason for skipping out. At any rate, it all just really irritated me. I decided to lay my own little guilt trip on him by telling him everything else that had gone on during my day. And then I signed off.

Definitely didn't need him doing that. I have more important things to concern myself with. And it's not that I don't feel bad about missing something that's so important to him, but...well, you already know. He just needs to suck it up.

Okay, it's later, after French, and as I said to my roommate upon entering our room: I wish that professor would fall into a fiery pit and die. I think I hate her more than I hated my Math professor. HATEHATEHATEHATEHATE!!!!

We have our exam next Friday and the following Monday (split over two days like before). Cat is taking me home next Friday. So, I asked the professor after class if I could take the exam on Monday instead of Friday. I didn't think it was such a big, horrible request. I mean, she just arbitrarily picks times for us, so I didn't think it would be such a hassle for her to put me on Monday.

Well. Apparently she decided to make a big thing out of it. "You can't leave if you have an exam," she told me coolly. I forget what I said, but it was something to the effect of having it on Monday instead, and she was all like, "Well, it all depends on who your partner is" or something like that.

And then she just CUT ME OFF and turned to the next student!!!

WHAT A FUCKING BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am so pissed right now. I wish I wasn't withdrawing from Math, because I would definitely be getting out of that class. As it is, I'm dropping my minor. There's no way I will EVER take another class with her as the professor, the incompetent wench.

Anyway, yeah. We'll see what she does. If she schedules me for Friday, I'll ask Cat if she can wait just a little while longer than she'd originally wanted to. If not...there will be some things said. I live f-ing FIVE HOURS from here. It's not like I go home every weekend. I don't even know that I'll be able to go home THIS weekend. It's not so much to ask to have the exam on Monday instead of Friday. Any other professor would have been accomodating. But not her. Maybe, as Katie says, she senses my deep vibes of anger--because yeah, I definitely show it in there when she pisses me off. I tried asking a question about the dialogue we had to listen to, and she replied in such a condescending way...and didn't even TRY to help me! So, in English I replied in a sing-song voice, "Never mind, it's not important!"

I want her to be kidnapped. And taken to a foreign land to be caged by pygmy farmers.