It has been decided. If Wednesday died, I would not attend the funeral. I would not send carnations. I might even send a threatening letter to Wednesday's family... something to the extent of YOU'RE NEXT BITCH.

And don't you tell me it's my own damn fault Wednesdays suck ass I'll kill you

Now, on that note, I'm beginning to get a feeling I'll be complaining about my poetry class at fairly regular intervals, so let me introduce you...

me: Well... you know me. Half intellectual, half blithering idiot, far more expressive facially than I mean to be

The "Prof": Grad student who looks roughly twelve, slightly anorexic, dresses like a poet is supposed to dress. Has hair I didn't think existed outside TV world. Continually circles room with eyes and that makes me dizzy.

The Fucker: Kid that sits across from me in the circle. Reminds me a little of Andrew, except I kind of want to stab this kid in the thigh with a fork. Sits at the edge of the circle and mocks people in the class with his buddy, and seems to laugh at me more than anyone else. Haven't yet figured out why this bothers me, which bothers me more.

The Toadie: The Fucker's little cronie. Laughs at all his jokes, makes few of his own. Both Fucker and Toadie seem intelligent and sarcastic, which is upsetting. Don't want to have to give them brownie points.

Earrings Girl: Dresses like a writer is supposed to dress. Always looks perfectly put-together. Thought she was intelligent in the beginning but am beginning to think she's more bitchy than anything else. My opinion may change though, so don't hate her just yet.

Naked Girl: Always, always, always wears tank tops two sizes too big under open jackets of similar ill-fitting nature, so most of her bra is usually visible. Probably thinks it looks cool and oh so retro to have the straps falling all over her shoulders and elbows, without ever thinking of the poor obsessive compulsives in the class squirming in their seats.

The Spanish Chick: Accent sounds South American. Doesn't talk much but she thinks translations of all kinds are sub-par and I agree.

The Fast Talker: Talks a thousand miles a minute about things that mostly don't make sense but it's funny so he can stay. Likes to talk about emotion. Never sees things on the same plane as the rest of the class. Second only to me as being the most mocked person in class by The Fucker.

Sherman: Looks like Sherman of American Pie fame, really only in that he is short and red headed, but he talks a lot and needs a nickname.

The Katies: One sits directly to my left, one to my right. The one on the left is nice and thinks I'm funny so I like her. We both get to class about a half hour early on Mondays so we talk. The one on the right is nice but quiet and very, very small. She's very into science fiction and often dresses like a character from such a book, ie black lace gloves or a braid headband or giant metal medallion hung about the neck. Doodles like my science fiction-loving friend Melissa in middle school.

Frat Guy: Haven't picked him out in class yet but he found me on facebook and IMed me in a panic this morning asking if our poems were due today. A boy after my own heart.

New Guy: Wears glasses. Has a lot of good things to say. Not actually new, but added semi-late (ie later than me), and the name stuck in my head.

ink :: graphite