I am infamously known for my horrible luck at airports.  In fact, since I turned 16 I cannot remember having a single incident-free flying experience.  They've ranged from being holed up at LAX for hours on end while I had food poisoning to getting stuck in Italy an extra day and a half/thousand dollars because the gypsies decided to join the migrant workers in striking on the train tracks.  Usually the tales are at least mildly entertaining though occasionally they're downright upsetting.  

This particular story embodies all of the latter and absolutely none of the former.  

So...as I've been known to say at least once or twice a day since I booked my tickets in January...I had been planning a giant excursion to my native Scotland for spring break.  To say that I was pretty jazzed about this is horribly misleading, as that implies that I was somewhat sane and reserved about the whole ordeal.  I'd actually describe this trip more as my life's blood/raison d'etre for the past few months.  

So let's start at the beginning.  Being the horrible procrastinator that I am, I managed to avoid packing until the Friday night before I left.  I was actually fairly pelased with myself as I did nearly all the necessary packing that evening and saved only the very small things (like shampoo) until the morning that I was to leave.  So...Saturday, I woke up far earlier than I needed to, showered, finished packing and took off early for the airport, since the TSA stalks me by the night.

I should have known that this trip was doomed from the beginning when I had to wake 25 freakin' minutes for a red line train to Gallery Place, though at the time I thought nothing of it, thinking it to be the metro work we've all come to know and despise.  So...I eventually get to Gallery Place and wade through the swarms of people to get down to the yellow line to jet over to National and, after waiting through about 5 green line trains and about 17 minutes I decide to ask a pertinent question...."WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?!?"  Eventually someone is kind of enough to explain that, DC in all it's great pragmatism, decided to shut down the yellow line for the weekend.  

Arse.  

I freak out a wee bit, but manage to find a fellow AU student who's also leaving for spring break from Nat'l, and we split a taxi heading down there and, as luck would have it (and because I'm awesome) I still manage to get to the airport at around 11:30 for my 3pm flight.  So I sit down and start to read Chuck Palahnuik's Survivor again (I don't recommend it...esepcially when you're about to board an airplane) when I overhear some people talking about a crazy storm up north.

Whatever, I say to myself with a shrug, surely they're referring to Boston or Providence or some other New England state.  Little did that dear, sweet naive little Ash know that they were actually referring to the Great State of New Jersey.  I shake my head and return to my terrifying book, completely ready to kill another hour and a half with it before I tossed it in a trash can.  

Eventually, I become aware of the fact that they've postponed my flight a bit...not much, something like 20 minutes, and I don't freak out too badly because I'll still have more than enough time to catch my connecting flight at Newark and I return to my creepy-ass-novel.  Eventually a VERY TALL AND GANGLY guy sits down next to me and stretches his gargantuan legs out in to my space (I hate that...just because I have short legs does not automatically entitle you to my space) but I'm also too engrossed to be bothered with bitching him out.  Not to mention happy at the prospect of getting out of the freaking US.  

It's about this moment when I notice that my flight has suddenly gone from taking off at 3pm to taking off at 330pm to taking off at 445 pm.  At this point I start wigging out just a bit, but manage to maintain my cool long enough to chat with Gargantuo while we wait (turns out he's on the same shuttle to Newark as I am but is heading to Dublin.  Maybe Gargantuo isn't so bad afterall).   

I'm not going to go through all the hairy, nasty details but suffice it to say that my flight somehow ends up being delayed by SIX AND A HALF HOURS.  That's right.  We didn't actually take off until 930pm.  Somehow during this time I managed to toss back 3 and a half margaritas just ot keep the growing terror that was in the pit of my stomach at bay so that I could keep my cool.  I sort of stumble over to the counter and explain my situation to the nice man working behind the counter who clearly wished we were all dead and we had the following conversation.  His name was Lamont, by the way. 

Lamont: Can I help you?
Ash: Yes...I was on the 3pm flight to Newark to get a connection...
L: Yes? 
A: Well..what time are we actually going to take off?
L: Right now we're slated for 8:56pm
A: Ah..well..you see...my connection is at 7pm
L: Let me check on that
*insert 10 minutes of innane typing here* 
L: Yes...it would seem that your connection is in serious jeopardy
A: *glare*  Really?  Cos..you know...it's nearly 7 now and I'm still in WDC...I thought that maybe I could still make it.  
L: Nono, I'm afraid not.  Let me see what I can do for you...I'll try to get you on a plane tonight but otherwise I'll put you on a direct flight tomorrow.
A: *glare* 
*insert 10 minutes of innane typing here* 
L: OK, I've got you booked on the 1010 to Manchester and from there I've got you on a shuttle to Edinburgh with a final arrival time of around 2pm
A: Thanks very much for your help  

So...I went back to working on my fourth margaritas, and, praise god, they called my flight to board.  Little did we know that this was but a hoax as THEY MADE US CHILL OUT ON THE PLANE FROM AROUND 7PM TO 930 WHEN WE FINALLY TOOK OFF!!!  

So...yeah...just to give you some sort of time frame here....my flight from WDC to Newark is supposed to take, at minimum, 45 minutes.  My plane took off from WDC at 930 and my second connection (the one to Edinburgh via Manchester) was due to pull up the wheels at 1010.  You do the freakin' math.  

Eternal optimist that I am, I maintained hope and faith that somehow, just somehow, the Manchester plane would get delayed by just enough that I could slide past security and on to the gangway.  

And dear sweet god in heaven gave me a miracle, it was delayed!  By an hour!  More than enough time to navigate the trecherous bowels of Newark Liberty Airport (god I wish I was kidding about that name) and make my way to the ever so special Gate C133.  Everything was running smoothly and it looked like I might, just might, be able to pull off this hell journey.  Until I realized that I had go go through security all over again.  Even though I'd already done it at National.  And do you know what you need to get through security?  A boarding pass.  And do you know what Lamont didn't give me?  A boarding pass.  Or a fighting chance.  Whichever you prefer.  

So...I fight my way through the giant lines of people bitching about missed connections shrieking "PEOPLE!  I HAVE A CONNECTION TONIGHT!  NOT TOMORROW!  TONIGHT!" and most people got out of my way (I suspect not ebcause they heeded my words but because of the glowing sparks flying from my eyes), had a small fight with an incredibly bitchy man who tried to blame this whole fucking fiasco on me and set off at a run (with two messed up toes and a heavy rucksack, mind you) through security YET AGAIN, desperately hoping to make this connection.  Where had this new found desperation come from?, you clever people may ask.  Well...incredibly-bitchy-blame-the-victim man informed me that there were definitely not any flight in to Edinburgh the next day and possibly not the day after that (excuse me while I freak the fuck out).  

So...this whole time in my head I'm thinking "there's no way I made this...the plane was supposed to take off 10 minutes ago" but still I keep trying because I'd kick myself if I hadn't and as I run into the farthest corners of the hell known as Newark Liberty Interanational Airport I am filled with hope as I still see some people waiting in line to board the plane at gate C125 (note the descrpency in gates.  Bastards.)  

So, I immediately jump in to line where I'm informed by a very nice British couple that my security ticket wasn't good enough to board the plane and that I needed to obtain another boarding pass.  OK, I replied, where?  With a single word and a grand gesture they waved me towards the single most terrifying thing I've seen in my life.  A line, about a quarter of a mile long and about 3 deep, stretching on in to eternity.  

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.  

Whatever, I say to myself, and summon the inner bitch.  I ignored the entire line and jumped to the front, daring anyone to oppose me, and wait for a nice Indian lady to hand me a boarding pass so I can get the hell out of the US.  I quickly describe to her my situation and we have the following conversation

Ash: Yes...Washington *gasps for breath* Need boarding pass...Manchester..please.  Quickly.  Desperate.  
Indian Lady: Alright then...no problem..wait..have you seen customer service?
A: *blank stare* Customer service?
IL: Yes, you'll need to get a paper ticket for them or you'll have to pay for your connection between Manchester and Edinburgh 
A: But I already paid for a flight with straight to Edinburgh...
IL: Yes, yes.  But those are the rules.
A: Fine.  Where is this customer service of which you speak?  Cos I sure as hell haven't seen any (pun intended) 
IL: *grand hand gesture* over there
A: *the room falls deathly quiet, and Ash's face lost all expression*  Over there?  
IL: Yesssssss.

At this point I proceeded to trek to the end of a line a half mile long and four or five deep, each step like a nail in the coffin.  Eventually I reach the end and realize that there is no way in fuck I'm getting out o the US tonight. 

Fine, whatever.  I will handle this.  How bad can it possibly be?  It's not Italy and it's not RyanAir...this is the US and Continental is a respected airline...they'll give me a hotel and put me on the first flight to the UK.  

*3 hours later Ash realizes exactly how wrong she is as they close down customer service despite the fact that there are enough people waiting for it to fill the Grand Canyon thrice and promptly inform everyone that there are no more hotel rooms available in Newark New Jersey and we all must spend the night at the airport until customer service reopens in 3 hours at 4am*  

At this point I realize that there's little I can do but cry...on the floor...by a cold window.  And I do just that.  For 3 hours.  

At 4am, my resolve has returned, I'm still feeling sick and queasy to my stomach but I'm wholeheartedly convinced that if I can get through this night I can get through anything.  

I march over to customer service at 4 am, precisely the time they said they'd be reopening, and wait for about an hour and a half for them send someone over to, you know, reopen custoemr service.  Another half hour in a line finds me in the following conversation with Connie, who had never worked in customer service before today.

Ash: So...Edinburgh...how do I get there?  When does the next plane leave?
Connie: Direct flight?  Few days?  Not certain...we dont do too many of them
A: *raises eyebrows*
C: *cold stare*
A: OK..so...the UK?  Where do you have in the UK where I can pick up a connecting flight?
C: Well..you'll have to pay for that...
A: WHATEVER!  Don't care!  Will bitch about that later!  WHERE IN THE UK CAN I FLY TO?!?!
C: Today?  Nowhere.  Tomorrow?  Nowhere.  Tuesday?  Can put you on standby for a flight to Heathrow but I doubt you'll get that...it's a very popular route, not many people don't turn up for their seats.  I can definitely send you to Birmingham on Wednesday night though...and you can pick up a connection on Thursday morning getting you to Edinburgh Thursday afternoon.
A: *blank stare* 
C: *blank stare* 
A: Can I just go home?  
C: Certainly!  

So...there you have it ladies and gents.  My tales of woe and horror.  Don't worry, I didn't kill $700 for nothing...I can use the ticket I've got not anytime within the next year (going to try to head over there in the summer I think...better weather, less stress, more time) and I got my flight back to DC for free, butI officially no longer have a will to live.  Right now I'm sitting by a garbage can waiting for my luggage to appear so I can switch terminals (and I've been here for about an hour and a half now...they said if it doesn't turn up in an hour and forty five minutes it has been lost) and I honestly can't bring myself to care.  This was the one freaking thing I've been looking forward to and it's gone.  I've never been so tired in my life...I haven't slept in over a day, I have a pounding headache and I may or may not have lost my passport.  I haven't seen Gargantuo since we parted ways for our separate flights...I can only hope he managed to escape this hell.  

In conclusion...
a) I am most definitely not a happy-go-lucky scamp 
and
b) If this is liberty I want nothing to do with it. 

Earlier today I had a very witty “Hot or Not” list typed out, ready to post to my LJ.  No, this list was not comprised of Hollywood’s hottest and William Hung, it was just a list of things that I’m a fan of at the moment (books, movies, assignments) and the things that I want to throw rocks at (Ralph Nader).  I never got around to doing it though, and accidentally closed the Word document that I’d written it in without saving.  C’est la vie.  I’m not exactly crying over spilled milk here, because something far more important needs to be discussed. 

Kat (my infamous roommate) directed me to her journal where I was made aware of the recent (and by recent what I really mean is the middle of February) killing of a 14-year-old by his 13-year-old classmate.  In broad daylight.  In front of 20 witnesses.  Oh yeah…the victim was gay.  Whether or not this is a true hate crime is indiscernible….kids kill for a lot of reasons today, but it definitely raises some eyebrows.  But you know what raises even more eyebrows…the fact that a child was killed by another child and I’ll bet not a one of you has heard anything about it because I sure as hell haven’t and I read the news (online or in paper form) every day.  Front page headlines have been the latest poll results, or Britney’s latest marriage, while kids are killing each other. 

You know…I hate to constantly make comparisons to Scotland/the UK but I lived there and I can’t help it.  At any rate…about 7 or 8 years ago a man walked in to one of their schools in Dumblaine (sp?) and shot 2 teachers and 5 or 6 students.  This was a huge national tragedy.  People mourned for weeks, they still hold vigils every year and it’s almost like a national day of remembrance and sorrow.  Now…here’s the kicker…you’re all pretty smart people so undoubtedly you’ll notice that this has a distinct similarity to something that’s happened two or three times a year in our country since Columbine!  Not a single person bats an eyelash anymore!  The most these tragedies get is a quick prayer and they usually don't even get that! Most probably just shake their heads and continue on with their daily lives.  My UNIVERSITY PROFESSORS mentioned the Dumblaine incident on more than one occasion as a reference to the degradation of the moral character of the country and that was one incident, years ago!  This happens all the time in the US!  Surely our moral character is in the negative by now!

It’s just things like this that make me realize exactly how desensitized we’ve become…which is horrible enough in its own right.  What’s worse, however; is the fact that we’re not going to be able to change it if we don’t care enough about it to put it in the freaking newspaper. 

...and free time...before I found the Craigslist personals section.  Seriously...how is it that evolution has not yet gotten rid of the genes that create people like this?

Dominant Man seeks Intelligent, Elegant, Sensual lady - 36

Reply to: pers-564279499@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-02-05, 8:25PM EST


Brief Summary:
I am a handsome, intelligent, demanding man looking for a woman to serve Me in every way. One who would not be subservient to others, only Me, as the only one worthy of her service. She must sense, know, anticipate what I want. I will train her, mold her to that point. She can look forward to having her horizons broadened intellectually, culturally, athletically, and sexually as she serves Me and joins Me in My life.

If this interests you, I invite you to read more below. I look foward to your thoughts on how you might be worthy of My attention.

What I Seek:

There really is not one definition for what I seek... there are many aspects that would please Me, and many that do not matter. I do realize that most things are a balance. So, it really depends upon the sum of the parts, not really any particular set of criteria, though of course there would be a few 'show stoppers'. What I prize above all else is intelligence. Without intelligence, there cannot be anything, not matter how good you are in other aspects, or how pretty. If you cannot provide the mental stimulation I need, then it is not meant to be.

The ultimate goal is a monogamous, long-term, live-in relationship. But in lieu of that, I am not opposed to the idea of something... simpler. If you have a proposal to make, I will listen.

Finally, to try and define the one I seek to be My pet: I seek an intelligent, sensual, elegant lady who desires... needs... to please... to serve One who is deserving of her attention... One who inspires her... One she can worship... One to Whom she must prove herself to be worthy. she will be Mine... not only in the bedroom, but outside of the bedroom as well, in all aspects of life, always. While she will be My pet, I am not looking for a lap dog. But rather, My pet will be My partner.

The one I choose to be My pet must be grounded in reality ('down to earth' is the phrase that comes to mind), attentive, able to communicate, and must be able to listen and pay attention (okay, those last two sound harsh but mentioned due to issues with a previous pet...) ... she must not get in My way... she is here to be a highlight of My life, though not all that My life is about. If she gets in the way, or causes trouble, then she will be released.

My pet must be comfortable with her sexuality, or at least willing to explore and become comfortable. Perhaps she is bored, perhaps she feels stifled, unable to be herself, or that something is missing. With Me, she will be free to be herself, express her true inner spirit, We shall both revel in who she is.

I seek a strong lady, one who is submissive only to Me, one who can hold her own when dealing with others. While I would be her Protector and Mentor, I also want someone with the ability to stand on her own two feet, as in reality, I cannot always be there at your side and, while you will be always in My thoughts, I prefer to know that you will be ok than to always worry about you.

I do appreciate the responsibility she would place in My hands, the Trust she would place in Me. We must prove to be worthy of each Other. I would be her Master to whom she can give herself entirely... I will guide her, mentor her, nurture her, protect her...

While there will be a large sexual component to the relationship, there must be more to the foundation than sexual compatibility. I am looking for a shared fundamental philosophy, and experiences and interests to share, to enjoy together, to learn together, and from each other.

I am not looking for someone more than slightly overweight. If she cannot manage enough self discipline to take care of hersef, how will she have discipline in serving Me? If your appearance does not please Me, you will be instructed what and how to rectify the situation.

Me:

I am who I am. If someone does not like who I am, that is their own tough luck. If they cannot appreciate who I am, I doubt I would like having them as My pet either.

I am very intelligent. I often receive compliments, and admiration. Intelligence is what I prize the most in the one I seek. Ideally she will be a good discussion partner, a sounding board who can help keep Me sharp.

I am handsome. This is not only Myself saying this, but I often receive compliments on this aspect of My being.

I am safe, sane, d/d free, and non-smoking.

I am a naturally Dominant man (the aspects that show through in 'everyday' interactions can drive others nutty, just ask My co-workers... though I am the one they turn to in difficult situations).

I have standards and am picky. I do not tolerate idiots well, nor neediness.

I am very demanding... I do not accept complacency...

And, in the end, if you do not measure up, then I move on.

Trust with Me is something precious... I meet people with a neutral view and they either impress or they disappoint. Once that trust is lost, regaining My trust is very difficult. While I may forgive, I do not forget. I do find that I can trust very few people. I also find that very few people are worth knowing.

I can be intense with things that matter, though always merciful. I do not like complacency. Thus, you will find Me to be very demanding. I give much in the way of positive feedback, but you will also know when things can be better.

I do not need to apologize for who I am.

I am perhaps best described as a Sensual Dom, but I also tend to be intense when playing with My pet...

This of course is just the tip of the iceberg... if I have piqued your interest/curiosity, I look forward to hearing from you. 




If this has "piqued your interested/curiosity" the link to reply is at the top.  Happy hunting. 

...so I've got a few minutes left in my designated "study break" time and I really just can't face going back to the books quite yet so I went for an LJ update.

I am so sick of school I really cannot express it with words.  I'm sick of the stress, the constantly looming cloud of work on the horizon.  I'm sick of sitting in class, trying to please an arbitrary figure of power who probably doesn't deserve deserve the title "professor".  I'm just sick of it all.  And this is a relatively new phenomenon for me....strangely enough I have always been one of those kids who enjoyed learning new things...even sort of liked going to school...but now I'm just completely done with this.  

I'm trying to remember back to a time when uni and I were on better terms and, keeping that in mind, I've decided to do a semester-by-semester rundown of my "feelings" through my college years. 

Fall 2004 - First semester in.  This was a fairly rough few months for me...separated from everyone and everything I knew, not the best living situation, trying to find friends that I actually liked as opposed to just hanging out with people because I was lonely.  This was the first time in my life when I felt truly alone, despite being surrounded by hundreds of other people.  But hey..it's the first semester of college...it's SUPPOSED to be that hard unless you cave and join a frat/sorority in which case you pay to get friends assigned to you.  

Spring 2005- This was actually pretty fantastic.  I had found (what I thought) was a good job, Kat and I began the long path that lead to our, now, frightening friendship and I had met a bunch of other people that I genuinely liked.  My classes were, if not perfect for me, at the very least interesting and I had finally figured out how much work needed to be done in order to do well. 

Fall 2005- I don't remember a lot from this year...I do know that I was living in Hughes and had some minor issues that seemed major enough at the time to actually have me thinking (albeit briefly) about joining a sorority but, as far as I can remember...this was a pretty decent semester.  Full of drama because that's just how my life goes and while it may not have been a "good" time it couldn't have been all that god-awful because, hey, nothing is jumping out at me as terrifyingly bad.  

Spring 2006- Can we please not talk about 2006? We all know how bad it was and I'd just as soon not relive it.  Let's just say that this is when everything started going so badly downhill that it ended with me crying myself to sleep at night.  Of course, this was not because of school...academically I did amazingly well this semester (I think it's still my hightest GPA though I haven't checked that for a while) this is because EVERYONE KEPT DYING and, let's face it, you can only take so much of that before you crack up like a complete and utter nutter.  Ooh...rhyming is sort of fun.  

Fall 2006- Having taken the summer of to try to latch on to my sanity I don't entirely remember how I felt during this time period...I know I lived in Letts and that, I had an amazing 21st birthday party...but not much else is standing out about this...maybe that's because I WORKED MORE THAN ANY HUMAN BEING SHOULD EVER WORK THIS SEMESTER.  Why...you ask?  A little something called the GBP...the Great Britain Pound....2-to-1 exchange rate had me clamoring for hours at the job that was slowly starting to eat my soul so that I could hope to maybe sort of afford living there for  6 months.

Spring 2007- I was in Scotland.  Best freaking decision of my entire life this semester was amazing.  It was rough at first what with the whole being 6000 miles away from everything  I had ever known as well as the fact that the sun was setting at 3:30 in the afternoon and the nearly constant darkness was depressing me...but still, some of the most amazing times of my life.  

Summer 2007- I count this because I lived in DC this past summer and tend to associate the city with university even if I'm not actively enrolled in classes.  Overarchingly this was a great summer...for my own reasons I had some trouble (and still am to a certain extent) re-acclimating to life in the US after living abroad but I had a generally good time.  Tequila night, a trip to the beach, a weekend on the Tennessee/Kentucky border to spend time with the family...I was happy and really excited to get back to real classes (the one thing that my Scottish adventure lacked)

Fall 2007- I was hit full force over the head with a giant bat regarding the amount of work my classes here required....that coupled with a strong desire to finish university on an academically good note so that I'd be willing to return to it one day for my Masters led me to spend way too many hours in the library on classes that, for the most part, I ended up hating.  Too many papers that I just didn't give a damn about eventually sucked my will to live and left me completely miserable, living for 11 May. 

So there you have it...my university life up until now.  For a while I blamed my major for my current unhappiness.  I kept telling myself that if I'd just stuck with history or, hell, even tried out International Service...I'd be feeling better about school right now.  Then I told myself that I'd made a bad decision regarding AU and DC in general.  I had myself convinced that the back-stabbing political nature of the city was wearing thin on my do-gooder soul and that I should have gone to Boston or Chicago or, hell, Seattle.  Anything different from where I was at the moment. 

Then I realized that those were all mistakes and "the grass always looks greener on the other side of the fence" arguments.  Sure I get annoyed at the mass majority of AU students, particularly those who want to be president one day, and sure I get just a little bit angry every time I see the Washington Monument but...you know what?  I really like my major...it fascinates and challenges me...AU, while frustratingly bureaucratic, is also incredibly entertaining (Karl Rove, anyone?) and DC...dear sweet god this is a fantastic city to live in...my relationship with it is losing a bit of its romance as we enter in to our 4th year together but we're also in that great comfort stage where I know it and it knows me and we're happy together.  I'd be foolish to say that I'm not going to cheat on it with Boston or Chicago or Edinburgh (again) mostly because I'd hate myself if I never put myself through the stress and exhilaration of picking up and starting fresh again...but I can be happy here for now and I can see myself being happy here for a long time (after I do the whole "testing myself" bit that I seem to be quite a fan of).  

Now it's noon and I need to go learn some German before my exam at 2.  But you know what?  I think I can do this...not just the exams...but everything. 

As I sit here procrastinating studying and homework by fucking around on Facebook and Livejournal...abusing the StumbleUpon key on my browser...I gotta say...there's a lot of people in my life now that I literally cannot imagine not knowing but when I think about it I met them less than a year ago.  Before that I had no clue as to their existence...and now, they're such a massive part of my history and memories that it blows my mind to think that I've barely known them for a year.  Then I started thinking about when I started college and all the people I met and how, for the life of me, I cannot remember what it was like to not know these people that have become so integral to who I am.   And that gets me to thinking...who am I going to meet in the next year..or two years...or five years...or ten years...that's going to have the same kind of impact on me?

Hell...who am I going to BE in a year...or two years...or five years...or ten years....

It's pretty damned excited. 

5 November 
     -German test
     -Art History mid-term
6 November
     -Internship 8am-4:30pm
7 November
     -Physics quizlikeapparatus 
9 November 
     -Internship 8am-4:30pm 
     -BlackCatatonia
10 November
     -Schlepp to the Nat'l Galleries to do research for Art History paper
11 November
     -Group meeting for Consittution (presentation on comparing/contrasting the US Constitution and the South African Constitution)
13 November
     -Internship 8am-4:30pm
     -FBI Interviews (no clue how the fuck I'm supposed to get to this being that I'm at my internship all friggin day) 
15 November
     -Consitution presentation 
16 November 
     -Internship 8am-4:30pm
17 November
     -Roberts' birthday Extravaganza
19 November 
     -Art History paper due
19 November-25 November
     -THANKSGIVING

And that's just the absolute definites.  I know at some point or other I have to give a presentation to my German class (IN German), there's probably going to be at least one more German test on top of god-only-knows-how-much-homework-she'll-assign-us as well as a strong possibility that there will be another Physics test/quizlikeapparatus sometime before break.  Written out like that it seems like very little...but I guess when you figure in the fact that a) I still have to do 16 hours in the classroom in addition to all the things I have to do at home b) work a minimum of 16 hours a week c) am getting sick because d) I'm getting about 5 or 6 hours of sleep a night on average...I guess it's just a bit more reasonable that I've completely lost my mind and now feel like I'm careening off a cliff.  And let's not forget that last Thursday night I managed to (in the space of about an hour) forget my AC adapter in my classroom thus leaving me laptopless for the weekend, accidently got out of a moving vehicle, nearly wandered into traffic and ripped my toe open on a branch on the sidewalk.  We're not even going to talk about the way the rest of my life is falling into giant pieces of catastrophe. 

I'm living for Thanksgiving right now...I need a break.  I need to sit in my basement and watch TV with my dog, I need to take my nephews out to lunch...I need to get proper sleep for the first time since September. 

11 May: COMMENCEMENT.  But you know what I have to do before I get to do that?  Register for classees next semester.  

Fuck.  

So if you live in DC chances are you heard about the annual IMF/World Bank protest that was to occur this past weekend and if you don’t live in DC you’ve heard of it now.  At any rate…this thing was apparently supposed to be a pretty big deal.  They do this every year around this time and have, in the past, had turnouts ranging in the thousands of people.  That’s a rather powerful statement.  This year they decided to do things a bit different and march at least twice…once on Friday evening in Georgetown and the second downtown near L Street.  I can understand the downtown march through DC’s financial district.  What took me a bit of time to grasp, however what I found a bit more difficult to understand was the Georgetown march.  Come now, people, what possible sense could there be in marching on Georgetown?  Sure it’s quite pretty but it’s basically just shops, bars and restaurants.  In order to better understand this I visited their website. 

Holy mother of sweet fuck all these people are insane!!!!!  Their website was basically a hate manifest (picture an Americanized Mein Kampf…without the Jewish thing and you’ll get a basic idea).  Their basic idea of marching on Georgetown came out of the fact that they view it as the seat of power in DC where the rich play with their money just out of sight of the extreme poverty of the city.  That’s true to a certain extent.  Georgetown is definitely the wealth corridor of Washington.  However; it makes ABSOLUTELY NO STRATEGIC SENSE TO HOLD A PROTEST THERE.  

Let’s do a basic rundown of Georgetown geography, shall we?  The square of the area is the intersection of M Street and Wisconsin Avenue and the district stretches for a relatively short distance in either direction off of that intersection.  While there are a lot of back streets (where there are incredibly overpriced row houses) the main stretch is M Street which is flooded with bars, restaurants and shops.  What I’m trying to say here is that Georgetown, while full of nooks and crannies, is a really easily isolated location.  Now…when you’re staging what you hope will become a huge and violent protest…what exactly do you want?  Large, open areas for your members to get rowdy in yet disperse easily should the police start tossing…you know…tear gas?  Or do you want a street whose main exit and entry points can be easily cordoned off/shut down and where the police can essentially pick you off one by one should they so desire?  If you went for Option A ding ding ding!  You win a prize!  Your reward?  Being smarter than the people doing this protest.  Congratulations, I’d offer you money but I’m a poor college student. 

Furthermore the choice of Georgetown was poor because the only people who actually saw the protest were either A) already involved in it or B) the residents of Georgetown who not only know that members of group A already hate their guts and frankly don’t give a damn about it.  The whole point of protests is not only to voice your opinion BUT ALSO TO RECRUIT MORE PEOPLE TO YOUR CAUSE!  

And my final point as to why this whole thing pissed me off probably way more than it should have is that, quite simply, these people had no balls whatsoever.  They had no conviction.  Half of them probably didn’t have the slightest clue what they were protesting and the half that had any idea what the IMF/World Bank actually is tucked their tails and ran away the second the MPD threatened to arrest anyone involved.  Bastards.  During the Civil Rights movement people had the right idea.  They protested PEACEFULLY (have I mentioned that some poor girl got her face smashed in with a brick?  Yeah…she’s probably going to lose an eye) and they were willing to GO TO JAIL FOR THEIR CAUSE!  These protestors can’t even begin to aspire to that kind of greatness.  

Some may interpret this rant as “Wow…Ash is pro IMF/World Bank.never would have guessed that.”  Well dears, your wrong.  I’m not a fan of either institution as they play up US hegemony and imperialism at the expense and suffering of millions around the world.  And that whole funding dictators bit?  Definitely not OK with me.  So my issue is not with the cause of the protest but rather the idiots taking part in it.

I’m slowly becoming a pretty strict Constitutionalist so I’m all about people’s First Amendment rights.  All I’m asking is for people to protest smartly and peacefully and remember that my right to swing my arm ends precisely at the face of another human being.  And for the love of all that’s good and decent…get some freaking conviction and motivation, get an idea as to what the World Bank/IMF actually is/does or go the hell home and don’t waste my time. 

Being that I prefer to hole up my mistakes inside my psyche until I eventually burst into flames I'll not discuss them in this particular forum.  Suffice it to say that I'm human, I've done made some a lot of stupid decisions, I've atoned where I could and paid the price where I couldn't.  One thing I never in a million years thought that I would view as a mistake is that fateful day back in first year of university when I switched my major from history to justice.  Is it sad that I still remember the weather of that day (extremely cold and blustery, clouds hanging low and threateningly in the sky)?  I remember chattering excitedly on the phone to my mum about my new found interest in the psychology of crime and deviance and how jazzed I was about my future prospects.  Since that day I've not looked back, rather I plowed through my course work with such blind love and ambition that I ended up devouring all the information my professors and more on my headlong drive towards understanding what the hell makes someone kill another human being.  I've loved my classes and most of my professors...there's some peers that I genuinely respect and some that I genuinely loath but you'll find that everyone. Until this semester I was one of the few people who was ridiculously happy with a major they picked and stuck with since first year.  Then I went to Scotland where I was largely removed from my course of studies.  I slacked off, did the bare minimum and enjoyed other aspects of the country.  I more or less adopted the mantra "I'm taking classes so that I could study abroad...I'm not studying abroad to take classes" and it worked out well for me.  I did well academically and learned a lot about myself in the process. Then when I got back to the US more excited than ever to get back to my real coursework where my true academic interest was.  Fuck sociology...screw history...it was all about the crime for me.  I started out my senior year with the same kind of excitement that I always had.  Then the rug got pulled out from under my feet.  To make a long story short the two major classes I'm taking this semester turned out to have crack-head professors with ridiculous ideas and absurd methods of presenting them.  I don’t like the course work and it quickly turned out that the only classes I don't dread going to are Art History and German which occasionally wears thin my patience as die Professorin assigns more homework than Otto von Bismarck himself would have dared dole out.  Then, earlier today, true disaster struck.  I had a meeting with my art history professor to discuss alternate testing for me(since I have a serious problem memorizing dates).  As usual his incredible intelligence whacked me over the head like a giant brick of smartness but for some reason it was even more profound than usual.  Perhaps because we were having a one on one discussion rather than listening to one of his lectures but the depth of his base of knowledge was just absolutely overwhelming.  My natural reaction to this was to think...of course...that maybe I should reconsider going straight to grad school after all.  That surely with a masters under my belt I could sound as ridiculously knowledgeable as he did.  After all, while I'm not a fan of blowing my own trumpet I also know what I'm capable of academically and while this guy is quite brilliant all that he knows he’s not out of my league.  All that he knows I’m capable of understanding...it's just that I've never taken the time to learn it.  And then I realized something horrifying.  As we were chatting about John Irving or someone of that ilk I realized that no matter how many degrees I get, no matter how much I learn I will NEVER be as smart as him.  Again this is not relating to intelligence or to capacity for knowledge...the simple fact of the matter is that justice and criminology are practical fields requiring people to keep their feet on the ground and their wits about them.  As such people learned and trained in the fields are taught to think practically and analytically while the arts teach you to look into your soul into the very parts of you that make you human...and to find truth and beauty there.

I do believe that I made the right decision all those years ago…after all between my affinity for expensive handbags and my general hatred for…you know…living in cardboard boxes down by the Potomac I needed something that could toss up a bit more job prospects than art history or, hell, regular history.  But I think I’m always going to wonder why what I’d be like now if I hadn’t made that decision back in first year.