Yes: wireless networks are fucking zombie bitch weasels snickering at me in the night.

See, earlier on today, after I'd gone by the primate center and gotten more certification stuff done, I happened by the psych. building to get something straightened out. That something was simple: registering for a class, yet funny enough it'd been a frustrating PAIN IN THE ASS. I had sent these people two emails--one of which was a forward of the instructor authorizing me to register. I had even dropped off a horrid neon pink bastard of a form, all signed by the prof., Emotion Dude.

The problem ended up being simple: I was authorized to register before Sept 7th. Oopsy, that shoulda been Sept. 17th. I smiled and demurely made no scene. These were staff people. You can snicker about them, but you goddamn better well NEVER get on their bad side. It's like God's index toe poking you in the ass. It is.

So now that I was officially actually authorized to register for the class, I needed to, well, register. So I went back to my apartment with the flittering butterflies of inconstant wireless connections. Not one network worked over the course of an hour and a half. Not one.

After that I thought: why not try to get the LAN line to work? I have DSL after all. Trouble is, it hasn't worked for a few weeks. So I went by and talked to Mark, the apartment owner, to see whether he'd made any progress in getting the LAN lines to work again. He was just as frustrated as I was, and apparently as much as the rest of my apartment building. Apparently my unique problem had virus-spread to everyone.

Misery loves company, baby.

I gave Mark a few suggestions about how to deal with the network box, like having the service provider giving each apartment it's own IP address. Mark perked up a bit and thought that was a great idea. He'd call about it and try some other shit. He appreciated my patience and I appreciated his actually trying to repair shit.

The search continued. Well. No. It stalled and chilled for awhile when I went off to the Crypt to read.

I adore the Crypt. This is the sortof rundown funky couch alternate music establishment that encourages you to become human fungus, sticking against the atmosphere like proper bohemians. Drinks are served in cups and mason jars, with the barista section looking like a co-op kitchen (complete with a Hobart washer) than a business. It's such a wonderfully funky place--in many ways of 'funky'.

So I'm chilling there and reading through my emotions class readings. These things had seemed dense as hell the night before, but suddenly I was sailing through the pages. Life was good.

Some strange rock of a thought struck me in the head, though. I hadn't brushed after I had breakfast at Subway (since nowhere else was open). This began to concern me more and more, since shelling out 1500 bucks will make you love the fuck out of religiously--borderline fanatical--hygienic behavior.

So I walk back to my apartment, brush, try my network connection again, then head over to the Crypt again. It's closed. The Crypt does that kinda often, and it has no hours posted. Every good spot has a price to pay.

So I went over to the Tomb, my affectionate name for the college library, that concrete square tortoise that reminds me of Oberlin's Mudd library way too much--but in a comforting way. So I go up there, study some more of my emotion reading, and try the wireless connection a half dozen times. It wasn't working. I read a big hanging sign with obscurely colored print, declaring that all I need was a WhiskWorld account and I could go wireless. This, of course, had to be done at the IT headquarters on campus, and:

1) I had no idea where that was

2) I was determined to find a working, no-strings-attached, free connection somewhere.

So I walked back to the steps of the Crypt. Nothing. I tried the fucking student union. Nothing. And then I remembered: Dung Brothers cafe had free internet! Sure I had to pay 4 bucks for average chai, but I didn't give a shit. I loaded the wireless crap, logged in, and finally, finally registered for my course.

I feel accomplished. I also partly feel like an idiot for getting worked up over it, but the emotion readings at least helped contribute; it was like paint-drying and philosophy combined in a frankenstein of pain.

What now? More emotion readings.

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However I gotta mention a little something. A few days ago I got a letter from T. She'd moved again and it seems like her situation is more stable. It was good prose to read; comforting you could say in a way. We exchanged replies and poked at prose with a wand-stick. Hard to describe the comforting quality of that exchange. I thought I'd pissed her off or done something wrong, but that's not the case.

Amazingly relieving.

----

You also might be wondering about photographs. I've been incredibly busy; like all-day-kinda busy lately, and I won't have the time this weekend. This class thing will hopefully get easier when I get more used to the pace.

Until then, I doubt I'll have the time unless things let up a little.

Similarly, crafting metaphors will get a kick in the nuts for just plain narrating hijinks by yours truly. These are necessary things when you have 140 pages of reading dense material for one class, two chapters in a stats book, homework and about 4 days to do it.

It's harder than it sounds. Yeah. But I wish you all well!

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