behind the door

I had a long, gassy day. I ate my lunch too quickly and that resulted in me having to suppress burps all day. Stinky Chinese burps.

The highlight of the day was an encounter with one of my classmates in poetry. My desk is behind the door, just beside the doorstop installed into the floor. When I was standing beside it putting on my sweatshirt as we were packing up to go, she trapped me behind the door as she was leaving and looked at me through the glass of the door. I made the "zombie cancer" face from the Awesome Center cartoon and she laughed and let me go. She's very nice and she is fair. She calls people out when they are overanalyzing things. Her outside knowledge of poetry brings on a hint of pretentiousness every now and then, but in general her comments are founded. The best thing, though, is that's she's a lesbian and she is very much one of the guys. I overheard her in conversation once talking about how a girl was cute with some other guys in my class and it made me smile. Also, I think I once overheard her say that she was a drummer and that she filled in for the drummer of Algernon Cadwallader on a tour once. I should try to conversate with her about that. She's that kind of rare person that I think I'd enjoy hanging out with. Usually, I only feel that way about people I look up to, or people named Dave Meyers or Jake Schroer. Hopefully something comes out of this. If nothing does, I'll regret it for the rest of my life every now and then. It's one of those things.

I'm listening to the new Russian Circles album actively for the first time right now. It's very good. So far, I like track two the best. I think it will stay that way.

My nose has been running all day in a way that feels like condensation is just slowly and constantly building up on the inside of my nostril. It's really irritating. Also, my sinuses feel swollen and this makes it so I can't blow my nose very effectively.

I wrote all over my left hand today as I listened to people's shitty poetry analyses. Is that the proper pluralization of analysis? My spell check is calling me an asshole. Fuck it. Anyway, I wrote all over my hand. There's stars and bubbles and lines and squares and circles and ovals and words and triangles and punctuation and hiragana and reminders and sentences and the word "DERP" written vertically down the side of my palm.

I can feel the twenty chicken wings from last night swimming through my intestines.