mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the party star I've been falling behind on everything lately, from homework and studying to quality time with the family to e-mailing to keeping in touch with my friends-- hell, keeping in touch with myself, even. Where is all of my time going, hmmm? How do I get it back? Jeromy took me to his place earlier this evening to type up some notes I took during a lecture from a guest speaker at school on Wednesday. The speaker-- Professor Campbell-- was witty and eloquent and very well-versed in politics and US Foreign Policy, but I. Could not. STAY AWAKE. I tried breathing deeply and chewing spicy cinammon gum and snapping a rubber band on my wrist, but I still kept dozing off here and there. My notes reflect this-- I can barely read some of them. My notes on the Sykes-Picot Agreement of 1916, for example, read: Agreemmmt betwmmmnmmn ritish and Frech and they gmm dneuhefhummmmmmmm. Except, you know, random dips and swirls in lieu of actually letters. I think I managed to decipher them fairly well, though. At least I managed to pull out a few real words and terms and important dates. The drama with Jeromy's ex is stretching on. For the past two weeks, she hasn't answered any of his calls or opened the door when he went to pick up their two year old daughter. It would be easy enough for him to call the police (and a lawyer) and demand that she let him see Katelynne, but his ex has threatened to report Jeromy's sister's outstanding warrants (traffic tickets, mainly) to the police. He's waiting until his sister gets everything taken care of before he makes a move, but meanwhile, it has already been two weeks since he has seen his child. He misses her. We miss her, and both of our families do, too. My sister asks, nearly every night, if Katie is going to come over soon. I don't understand how a mother could deny her child the right to see their family, the people that love them. Apparently, she wasn't so hot on the idea of me watching Katelynne while Jeromy goes to school. He managed to pacify her, although she did feel the need to throw in a parting comment about how she doesn't want "that bitch (me, I get to be That Bitch) making Katelynne call her Mom!" And so it goes. I wish there was something I could do. And this made my day: Helping Jeromy's seven year old nephew read "Where the Wild Things Are." Listening to him stumble over "night" the first few times, and then, finally, remember what I said about "ight" and read it with no problem. When he finished reading, he hugged me and said, "You're a nice girl. Wanna look at my Garbage Pail Kids cards with me?" and suddenly, I felt better about the day. 2:38 a.m. - 2004-02-27 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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