The French exam I took last week went well: 99. I misspelled juillet. But! My Biochem quiz totally thrashed my butt. I'm still recuperating while trying to memorize various things about laminopathies and the details of Spinal Muscular Atrophy. My brain is going through atrophy.
The other day, while I was downstairs trying to force myself to study, I overhead the most bizarre conversation. It was so awful, it was amusing.
A man had stopped right in front of my house at the fence to my driveway, probably thinking that the brick wall of the store next to my house served a good privacy bubble for his phone argument.
Not if he was practically bellowing his words out.
I sat by the window to my driveway, just several feet away from him, but hidden from him. I couldn't see him either though I did try to crane my neck, peering sideways to see if I could catch a glimpse of what might be the biggest asshole in the world.
So I was reading about the basal lamina when a loud voice suddenly snarled, "I owe you nothing! What do I owe you? What? Do I owe you something just because I had sex with you?"
Hmmm. Basal lamina or crazy lovers' spat? I dropped my pen.
He followed it up with more sparkling lines:
"Where are you now? Here. Just do me a favor and come back right this minute and meet me. Just walk back. I took the time to meet you and you're acting like a child."
"Yeah? Well, let me tell you something, you're not the first good looking chick I've gone out with!"
"I gave this my best efforts and I don't see you trying. We have a good friendship and you're ruining everything. You know what you told me last time. Remember? You said you were happiest being with me so why do you have to go and be like this? Stop crying. Stop crying! Just stop!"
"What the hell do I owe you? Friends don't owe friends anything! That's not how a friendship works. I don't owe you and you don't owe me!"
"You know what? We had a good thing, but you're too spoiled by men. Yeah, men catered to you. I don't do that. I don't cater to women."
"So are you coming or not? Come back and meet me at Dunkin Donuts. Start walking back right now."
And then there's my favorite:
"I wrote a poem the other day and let me tell you, it was pretty damn good. I write good poetry. Yeah, you don't know anything about me. It's your loss."
I have no idea how that came into the conversation/argument, but I presume he was trying to elaborate on the many awesome qualities he has.
I was chatting with a friend online while the man was still yelling away on his phone outside and he suggested that I step out onto my balcony and dump a bucket of ice water on his head before doing a giggle, duck and run.
Since the man was speaking on his cell phone, it was all one-sided and I have no idea what happened in the end, but I sincerely hope the girl didn't get suckered in and ended up trudging back to meet the guy. He was absolutely callous about her feelings and if they were "friends", then he was a friend she didn't need.
Anyway, I've fixed up some more parts of False Facades and in between studying for my quizzes, I'm working on the new chapters to TM and UF. Kaetlyn has been flung clear across the library and is still getting attacked in Unfinished Business. Meanwhile, in Through Me, Tristan is finally back at home and everyone is preparing for the first party of the season.
Until then, Happy Mid-Autumn Moon Festival to those who celebrate it!
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