aisalynn: (NineRose)
( Apr. 23rd, 2009 03:09 am)
So, I know it only been like, a couple of days since I posted my whole "going on a break" entry, but I can't sleep thanks to this SERIOUSLY UNCOMFORTABLE UTI that I'm currently enduring, and I'm pretty ticked off right now 'cause of my roommate and her boyfriend.

They've been seriously annoying me lately. He's been here, staying in this extremely tiny room for nearly THREE WEEKS STRAIGHT, and today, when my RA came to ask where we were living next semester, he was the one who opened the door. And apparently she smells something on his jacket or something, because five minutes later we have the police at our door, wanting to do a SEARCH for MARIJUANA.

Great. Just great.

Of course, they didn't find anything--although I know Carlton does smoke it, just not here. It would be disrespectful, he says--but still. They went through the whole process of looking through our stuff and bringing the dog in to sniff everything, and then they interrogated us and accused us of being high right then--trying to get us to just crack and confess and tell them where it was.

In two years living on this floor, there has never been a drug search, even though there were people who did drugs in their room, and when it does happen, it happens to my room.

Aren't I just lucky.


I can't wait for this semester to be over. And yay for finding an apartment for next year.

In other news, I just wrote something for a Nine/Rose ficathon (which can be found here) tonight, because once again, I can't sleep, and because I haven't read or written anything for Doctor Who in a while, and I miss it.

I am once again attempting to write in the study hall (more accuracely named the chatter hall or maybe the social hall) because even though having Miranda and her friend bursting into the room at eleven o'clock at night while I am sleeping to scream and cry about their boyfriends is perfectly acceptable, the quiet tapping of my keyboard while she is trying to sleep is most definately not.

There is like, twelve people in this tiny room, none of whom are studying and I am about to go crazy. I can't think to write with all their nattering, and I can't blair my music loud enough to drown them out.

Can I stress, once again, how absolutely done I am with living in the dorms?
aisalynn: (Default)
( Jan. 28th, 2009 12:37 am)
So here I am, trying to sleep and my roommate comes in, turns on the lights, picks up her phone and starts chatting to her best friend. Who is apparently crying.

So of course, like a good friends she is, she invites her friend to come up to our room, so she can cry her poor heart.

And scream.

And curse.

And pace around the room.

With the light still on. Despite the fact that I was trying to sleep.

Okay fine. I can be sympathetic. Never mind the fact that the guy who made her cry is, for all intents a purposes, a complete asshole and she has been saying that she should break up with him for at least the whole three weeks that I've known my new roommate, and she comes crying to this room almost every. freaking. day. I can deal.

Then he calls her on the phone.

And once again I get the soundtrack to some relationship drama over the phone. That, once again just keeps escalating until there's hysterical yelling and sobbing and really, isn't there somewhere more private than someone else's room or a public study lounge to do these things?

And to top it all off today I felt like complete shit--with a sore throat, stuffy nose and huge headache. All I wanted was to sleep.

Doesn't seem like that is going to happen anytime soon.
aisalynn: (Default)
( Jan. 23rd, 2009 03:52 am)
So I'm back in the study lounge.

Why am I back in the study lounge at nearly four in the morning?

The light from my computer keeps my new roommate up. Never mind the fact that I sleep during the day and she doesn't give a shit if she wakes me up in the morning when her and her friend start chattering on the phone to some married guy they both had sex with at some point, or when she blow dries her hair in the room instead of the bathroom, with, I swear, the loudest blow drier I have heard in my life.

The only reason I'm giving in is because I didn't come back until after three this morning and I know I woke her up when I came in.

I am too damn nice.

Some chick is also in this study lounge, currently having a very heated and tearful argument with her boyfriend. I would leave to give her privacy (though she doesn't seem to care that I am here, by the sound of everything) but I have to get this story done for my fiction writing class, and there is no where else to go.

I am so done with dorm life.
aisalynn: (awesome)
( Jan. 17th, 2009 06:20 pm)

So, new semester, new classes and a new roommate. A new roommate who, at the moment, has taken over the room so she can have wild monkey sex with her boyfriend. I am banished to the study lounge during this time, but, Miranda assures me, it should only be for about twenty minutes.

Apparently they are very quick wild monkeys.

I seriously need to get out of here.

Unfortunately, this semester most of my friends have either left or graduated (the downfall of making friends with upperclassmen) and the ones that are still here are either home for the weekend or not answering their phones. So I'm stuck here for the evening it seems, bored out of my mind and banished to the study lounge, where I can hear all the annoying people in my dorm.

I really, really wish I had my own place. Really.

In other news, this semester I have three English classes that I think I'm going to love: British Literature, Fiction Writing and Reading and Writing about Literature. I like all the professors, and my fiction writing class is going to focus on flash fiction. Which is awesome. I still have to take a horrible spanish class, (taught by an overwight man who likes to burst into song--very off key--and has a tendancy to call his students "chickies") and retake my math class from freshman year, but at least I like my English classes.

Oh, and my math class is being taught by a shorter, non-jewish Leonard Nimoy. Like seriously, he looks just like him. And the first day of class he was wearing black pants with a blue sweater the exact shade as the uniform from The Original Series, and it took all my self control not to giggle when he said that the class "wasn't so much mathematics as it was logic."

I think it has been twenty minutes by now, but I'm going to wait a little longer (or a lot longer).

Just in case.




aisalynn: (Default)


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