Whew.

They told me at my college that I couldn't buy books until the day before classes start, that's today. I am going to have to shell out four hundred plus bucks for the books. And I don't know if I got a Pell Grant yet or not.
It's starting to get a little scary; what if I don't get the grant? Oh well. I don't see why I wouldn't but they are sure cutting it close. WTF? I think it's all due to some bumbling on my Voc Rehab counselor's part. I know he's busy, but he keeps saying "Oh I forgot" to do something...and I'm wondering what else he forgot. I like him and all but he's maddening. He didn't know that there is a special place on the Drake campus where you can fill out the FAFSA in person and they process it in a couple of weeks, whereas if you do it online you suffer the same fate as me: wondering WTF?
Yesterday I had coffee with I. I had chai actually. Man it is hard sitting there with her, I just want her to sit on my lap. She's so adorable and she is so funny and so mysterious. I did ask her some personal questions about her upbringing and it turns out she has clinical depression coupled with acute shyness. Which explains just about everything.
I have no idea if she will ever contact me again as I was pretty much my socially inept self and talked about some things that really don't usually come up in polite conversation. How we got onto those subjects I'll never remember but get on them we did and now I fear she knows more about the core of me than most people in Huntsville.
*sigh*
Why did I have to go and tell her I was a dungeon master at an S&M clubhouse in San Francisco? And why did I have to top it off with taking my top off and doing the Gay Pride parade half naked with another topless woman, dancing on the top of a newspaper vending machine and getting our photos taken?
*UGH*
I think it was to demonstrate how I like to do things to the fullest, not just attend an event but BECOME the event.
She seemed to enjoy the stories. She said she wished she could be like that. I wish I could give her that gift.
Talked to D. for an hour and a half: turns out she was a crack head for six years. Also she spent thirty days in jail for DUI.
My little D. ; it hurts me to think of her in jail or suffering from crack addiction. Oh but she's glad it happened, as I am glad for my alcoholism, as it shaped us and we are now strong.