Carnal Embrace

I got my first A in my major today. I swear I’m not stupid–English at Cal is incredibly difficult. I should have been a French major. At least then I’d have a 4.0 GPA for my major.

Facebook is amazing, and I would probably have a real life if it weren’t around. Today (as in the past 10 minutes), I reconnected with an ex through a 28-point opening Scrabulous move. Also, let me not leave out that I found my brother (who is across the hall right now), and he is indeed straight.

Normal people would be sound asleep by now.

I’m done with finals, and now I’m back in sleepy Arcadia. The real paradise here is my Sims 2 game. Since I’ve come home, I’ve managed graduating from college (summa cum laude and cum laude), an engagement, a joined union, and simultaneous pregnancies.

If only I could manage my life this effortlessly (minus the marriage and the pregnancies).

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that in the case of an earthquake I would most definitely die. Let me rewind: the Hayward fault runs straight down Memorial Stadium. I live right next to Memorial Stadium.

Our house is three stories with a basement, and I live on the top story in an attic room. My room sits atop the bottom of the hill. I’m pretty sure an earthquake would happen something like this:

First of all, it would have to be 5.0 or greater. I’m talking about The Big One. I would probably be asleep or at least on my bed. The room would start shaking like mad, and then there are two possibilities.

1. The roof falls on my head. Concussion possible.
2. The house sways so much (it being on a wooden frame) that my room slides off and I go flying out the window to a three-story plus basement drop to splatter on the pavement below.

I’m pretty sure it’s going to be the latter, but if I do somehow survive and make it outside (not through my window), there’s still a chance of death.

You see, my house’s “safe” meeting spot is in the Memorial Stadium parking lot. The Hayward fault runs exactly through this as well.

Le sigh.

My research paper is like pulling teeth, except with more Facebooking and persistent Gmail/Google Reader-checking. I have 6/20 pages. Due Saturday Monday afternoon.

I have a modern poetry final in 14.5 hours. Have not yet studied.

I am talking about a black/white racial binary in my research paper (on Harlem Renaissance writings), and when I look at the page all I can think is:

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Once again, without emotion…