staying up late

like a graduate student should, right? did i tell you i’m in grad school. oh, well, just in case you forgot.

I get offered “OCs” twice at the corner of Turk and Leavenworth. I ask Mattilda what that stands for, because she would know–Oxycotton.

I’m still looking for a small table and two chairs for my efficiency apartment. I want it right in front of the window for exceptional viewings, late-night chit-chats over endless cups of tea, and better-than-x-tube study-time distractions. Would that be chit-chats with myself? Probably, but don’t tell. No, really, I’m definitely having people over to visit. That is, if they can get over the fact that they have to sign in downstairs with their ID. No, it’s not an SRO, it’s not subsidized housing, it’s just a big-ass building in a “questionable” neighborhood. My Mom asks me if there’s some reason I wouldn’t want her to see my new place after I tell her that I don’t think it would be a good idea if she came to visit with my aunt and cousin. I just don’t think they would get it, the neighborhood, the tininess of my space. Is it wrong to not want to be a tour guide to three suburban, mainly conservative, possibly racist, people who I happen to be related to? I have to stop doing things I don’t want to do. I have to do my homework.