Saturday. Finally! Eleanor stayed in bed until almost 11:30 that morning. When she did get up she grabbed her camera from where she’d left it the night before and took a picture of her just-woke-up-fuck-the-world face. That day was National “A Day in the Life of ____” Day, as created by a guy on Facebook. He made it one of his life goals to create a national holiday, and he was starting with Facebook. All a person had to do was document in some way (mainly pictures) what they did that day.
Looking at her phone she realized her inbox was getting ridiculously full. So she deleted messages, starting at the bottom. Click.
Finally climbing from bed her feet met cold vinyl flooring. She shivered and decided she needed some nice fuzzy socks. After all, the upstairs wood floor wouldn’t be any better. Click.
She carried several plastic cups from her bedside table up to the kitchen and loaded them in the dishwasher. Click. She put the kettle on for oatmeal, finally having raisins to put in it. Click. She was starving and had a feeling just oatmeal wouldn’t cut it that morning so she popped two pieces of her preferred sourdough bread in the toaster. Click. Syrup bottle in the microwave, just to get it warm. Click.
The kettle was nearly whistling by the time the syrup was done, so she poured the water in her oatmeal bowl. Click. While that cooked she prepared her toast: one piece with honey peanut butter, one with butter and apricot jam. Click. She dropped a pat of butter in her oatmeal, poured syrup all along the edge, and put a small handful of raisins in as well. Click. Breakfast is served. She poured herself a glass of the last of her chocolate almond milk and popped an Aleve to try to head-off any pain before it got ridiculously bad. Click. She went back down to her room and climbed in bed to eat. Click.
--
In no time at all it was 3:30. And Eleanor was still in bed. She had finished her breakfast quite a while ago but hadn’t bothered to do anything else. She checked the (fucking) weather, trying to justify why she was still in bed that late. Unfortunately it was a pleasant 63°. Oh well. Click.
Finally she decided she needed to start the day. After all, as Laura had pointed out, that night there was a showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show in the Commons, and she needed to be ready for that. She took a shower (click, click) and sent a text inviting others to join Laura and herself (click).
After finally getting dressed (click) she went upstairs to make herself some dinner. For a couple weeks now she had been planning to make her own gravy fries, knowing that she wouldn’t get a chance to eat any for a while (it had been pure luck that the pizza place she went to with a few friends the last time she was home had some). She set the oven to preheat and covered her baking sheet in frozen fries. Click. After putting the tray in the oven, she set about making the gravy from a mix. Click.
While waiting for everything to cook, she noticed the pomegranate on a container next to the stove. I really need to eat that soon. Click.
Finally all was ready. She emptied the tray of fries into a large bowl and poured the gravy over it all. Click. The gravy-to-fry ratio was a little low, so she solved that by pouring the rest of her parmesan cheese on it all, thus creating a simple and slightly strange version of poutine (a Canadian dish of fries covered in gravy and fresh cheese or cheese curds). Click. She sat down to eat her rather unhealthy dinner.
Friday Yasha had gone up to Boston with his girlfriend and a couple friends to see a show. His friends were going for the opening band, who they knew, while he was more interested in the headliner: Dana Fuchs, of Across the Universe fame. Eleanor received a call from him, asking if she could look up directions to a club they were trying to find. She tried her best, but not knowing exactly where they were her help didn’t do much. After hanging up she took a picture of her computer screen with the map still on it.
While waiting for news on Rocky Horror from Laura, she decided to make cookies. They were her usual chocolate chip ones, though the product was far from store-bought cookies. She used the recipe her mom gave her before heading back to school that summer, which in turn was from her mother. Knowing she was baking history seemed to make the cookies better. Liz certainly thought so.
“So, you’re my favorite roommate ever. Don’t tell Cesley, but you are.”
Eleanor smiled and continued baking. Click click click.
Just as she was plopping cookie dough on the baking sheet she got a call from Laura. She continued haphazardly dropping spoonfuls of delicious dough on the pan with the phone pressed to her ear by her shoulder. The small group of Laura, Anna, Nicole, and Eleanor were going to meet at Anna’s apartment to prepare before heading over to the Commons. Eleanor said she would come when she got to a stopping point in her baking.
--
After putting the second tray in she went down to her room to get dressed. Laura was bringing her a jacket for her, and she was excited to dress up.
The year before she had dressed as Columbia, complete with a light orange tube top and black leggings, slicked back hair, and makeup done in her style. Angela went as Magenta and Nicole had butchered some scrubs to go as Frank after killing Eddie. This year, however, she couldn’t really spare the effort. Instead she was going as a random party guest with her black-and-white (and red, the result of two zombie walks) plaid pants, a tight red top, and her sexy boots. She had been looking for an excuse to wear those boots for a while now. They were while pleather platform gogo boots, and she loved them.
Coming back upstairs, carrying the boots in their box, she sat down to wait for the cookies to finish.
--
It’s just before 8:30 when Anna, Laura, and Eleanor leave for the show. At first the other two had expressed worry over Eleanor’s ability to walk in her massive boots, but she soon showed a mastery of them. After all, she told them, she had worn them to several conventions and even a few random school days in high school. She had plenty of practice, and always found a strange joy in being five inches taller. It certainly threw others off.
Upon arrival at the Commons, they located the ballroom that would be showing the cult favorite and queued up to get their props. Into a small paper bag went a sandwich bag of rice, a newspaper page, a glow stick, a party noisemaker, a piece of toilet paper, a rubber glove, a party hat, and a couple playing cards. They found seats near the front and sat down to wait for the event to begin.
--
Eleanor was quite pleased with herself for remembering several call-back lines. Not nearly as many as Nicole knew, but she was doing okay. She remembered all the cues for the props as least, and managed to not fall over or break her ankles while doing the Time Warp in her boots – especially given the amount of rice on the floor at that point. She left the ballroom with a distinct feeling of rice grains in her pants. Nicole had quite a lot in her hair.
On the way back to Anna’s they passed a restaurant that seemed to be having some sort of party. Out front was a line of about ten scooters. Nothing manly, like motorcycles, or anything hipster, like bikes, but slightly lame scooters. Click.
Not quite ready to go home yet, they ended up at a pizza place for some late night snacking. Nicole bought a pepperoni pizza to share. Click. They continued on to Anna’s, with Laura leaving them on the way to go back to her dorm. Eleanor gathered her things and left the jacket for Laura and led Anna and Nicole to her place for cookies. Click. She had to cut them off at one point before they ate them all.
[1425]
[11738/50000]
God, I'm so behind... I'm going to be spending today catching up.
Friday, November 13
Tuesday, November 10
november 6
Friday dawned and Eleanor was really feeling the physical effects of her Wednesday moshing. Her back ached and she just couldn’t wake up – more than usual, that is. But she had two classes to get through that morning before she could relax again. Might as well get up then.
Biology was nothing really new. They finally got to evolution, which the professor was constantly pointing out was “just a theory”. She was working hard to avoid any uncomfortable confrontations regarding the origin of man and the world. Eleanor felt slightly more prepared for that class having studied part of Darwin’s The Origin of Species in English the week before. She tried not to zone out completely.
During her break she checked her grade for the test Wednesday morning. She was excited to learn she had finally swung a B and resolved to continue with those caffeine pills. She knew she’d have to take the cumulative final, if only to get rid of that horrible D, but right then she was glad something was going well in her life. Her back twinged.
English brought the introduction of a new unit: Modernism. For every new section the professor would draw the participants’ ‘world view’: the Enlightenment had been a circle filled with dots (we’re all part of the same universe), Romanticism had been a circle with a single dot in the center (each person is the center of their own universe), Realism/Naturalism had been a circle with dots around the edge and a few inside (we are both within and without the universe). Modernism, on the other hand, didn’t really have a circle. It was more of an amoeba with what might be a circle in a large space. “It’s all in your head” had been the professor’s explanation. Frankly, the drawing confused Eleanor, but she figured the actual lecture would sort everything out.
--
The rest of the day passed in relative boredom. She sat in bed on her laptop, still in her pajamas (having not gotten dressed that morning), secretly hoping someone would suggest something interesting to do. When she went upstairs to make herself some dinner, Cesley found her. There was a Zine Fest going on that night at Gallery 5, a few blocks away from them. Without really knowing what it was Eleanor readily agreed.
Going out meant getting dressed. The roommates met up again upstairs at 8:30 and sat down to wait for Nicole to show up. It was a cold night, in the 40s, and Eleanor didn’t have a heavy coat. She hoped her corduroy jacket would be enough. While she was sitting, she noticed that she had managed to put on all her corduroy: jacket and pants. At least I’ll be warm. Nicole arrived in a thin hoodie, having nothing remotely warm with her, and they headed out.
The fest was not exactly what Eleanor had been expecting – though, she wasn’t really sure what she was expecting in the first place. The first floor was lined with tables, each occupied by a different self-publishing mini-company selling their zines. There was a small stage where a band was setting up and a bar in the far corner. Eleanor and Nicole wandered a bit, not really sure what they were supposed to be doing. Ces was picking up zines, looking at all the printed weirdness Richmond had to offer.
When it became clear that was all that was happening downstairs the three went to the second floor. This space was set up more like a gallery, with graphic and typographic art pinned to the walls. There were several limited (and fancier) print zines on pedestals with cotton gloves for handling them. Being such a ‘fine art’ nerd, Eleanor enjoyed the gallery more than the hectic strangeness of the first floor. It reminded her of the artist talk she went to earlier in the week (gosh, it was still the same week? It felt so long ago), and mentioned it to Ces.
They wandered around for a bit more then decided to call it quits and head back. Nicole hadn’t actually eaten that day, so she and Ces ended up going to Five Guys for a late dinner while Eleanor went back home.
[704]
[10313/50000]
Finally broke 10,000 words! In word the whole document is 19 pages.
Biology was nothing really new. They finally got to evolution, which the professor was constantly pointing out was “just a theory”. She was working hard to avoid any uncomfortable confrontations regarding the origin of man and the world. Eleanor felt slightly more prepared for that class having studied part of Darwin’s The Origin of Species in English the week before. She tried not to zone out completely.
During her break she checked her grade for the test Wednesday morning. She was excited to learn she had finally swung a B and resolved to continue with those caffeine pills. She knew she’d have to take the cumulative final, if only to get rid of that horrible D, but right then she was glad something was going well in her life. Her back twinged.
English brought the introduction of a new unit: Modernism. For every new section the professor would draw the participants’ ‘world view’: the Enlightenment had been a circle filled with dots (we’re all part of the same universe), Romanticism had been a circle with a single dot in the center (each person is the center of their own universe), Realism/Naturalism had been a circle with dots around the edge and a few inside (we are both within and without the universe). Modernism, on the other hand, didn’t really have a circle. It was more of an amoeba with what might be a circle in a large space. “It’s all in your head” had been the professor’s explanation. Frankly, the drawing confused Eleanor, but she figured the actual lecture would sort everything out.
--
The rest of the day passed in relative boredom. She sat in bed on her laptop, still in her pajamas (having not gotten dressed that morning), secretly hoping someone would suggest something interesting to do. When she went upstairs to make herself some dinner, Cesley found her. There was a Zine Fest going on that night at Gallery 5, a few blocks away from them. Without really knowing what it was Eleanor readily agreed.
Going out meant getting dressed. The roommates met up again upstairs at 8:30 and sat down to wait for Nicole to show up. It was a cold night, in the 40s, and Eleanor didn’t have a heavy coat. She hoped her corduroy jacket would be enough. While she was sitting, she noticed that she had managed to put on all her corduroy: jacket and pants. At least I’ll be warm. Nicole arrived in a thin hoodie, having nothing remotely warm with her, and they headed out.
The fest was not exactly what Eleanor had been expecting – though, she wasn’t really sure what she was expecting in the first place. The first floor was lined with tables, each occupied by a different self-publishing mini-company selling their zines. There was a small stage where a band was setting up and a bar in the far corner. Eleanor and Nicole wandered a bit, not really sure what they were supposed to be doing. Ces was picking up zines, looking at all the printed weirdness Richmond had to offer.
When it became clear that was all that was happening downstairs the three went to the second floor. This space was set up more like a gallery, with graphic and typographic art pinned to the walls. There were several limited (and fancier) print zines on pedestals with cotton gloves for handling them. Being such a ‘fine art’ nerd, Eleanor enjoyed the gallery more than the hectic strangeness of the first floor. It reminded her of the artist talk she went to earlier in the week (gosh, it was still the same week? It felt so long ago), and mentioned it to Ces.
They wandered around for a bit more then decided to call it quits and head back. Nicole hadn’t actually eaten that day, so she and Ces ended up going to Five Guys for a late dinner while Eleanor went back home.
[704]
[10313/50000]
Finally broke 10,000 words! In word the whole document is 19 pages.
Monday, November 9
november 5
Eleanor’s phone alarm went off at 3:30 that Thursday morning. She grumbled and hit “snooze,” intending to just lay there for a few more minutes. It would give Yasha a little extra sleep, considering he was the one driving. So at 3:45 she got up and quietly crept to his room, closing his door before turning on his light. No reaction at first, then a bleary groan and a glare. She smiled sheepishly, nervously, sleepily. Those two and a half hours had not been nearly enough.
She put her belt back on and grabbed her backpack, going down to the kitchen to forage for breakfast. She found bagels in the fridge and set about toasting one while munching a Nutrigrain bar. Yasha sat at the counter, eating pita chips and drinking juice. She quickly buttered her bagel and wrapped it in a paper towel for easy transport. They put shoes on and headed out to the car.
“We’re never doing this early-morning bus ride thing again,” she told him moodily in the car. He agreed.
He dropped her off at the Baltimore station just after 4:30. A quick hug and he left, as she shuffled inside to sit and wait. She zoned out, glancing at her watch occasionally. Had this been any other Greyhound trip she would have her iPod out, but her ears were still feeling stuffed up and she didn’t feel like dealing with the volume level necessary to actually hear it.
Just before 4:50 she stood and waited by her gate, printed tickets in hand. The ride to DC was short, the traffic nonexistent, and she dozed in her seat. There was an hour layover in DC, and she thought sleepily how ridiculous their planning was, considering they had just been there not 6 hours earlier. She nodded in and out of sleep, checking her watch when she snapped her eyes open, not wanting to miss her bus. 6:40 came and she stood again, ignoring her achy back. The second leg was much the same as the first, though she thought she may have actually slept a bit there because suddenly they were at exit 79 and it was just about time to get off. They were almost a full hour early, meaning she would have no trouble making her ten o’clock – though she would be vaguely smelly for it.
Rather than wait the half hour for the number 24 bus, she ended up walking back down the street to Broad. Her shoulders were starting to hurt, the combined stress of the pit and having made that trek twice in as many days. She caught the first bus that came down Broad to campus. In the ten minutes between getting back and having to leave, she put on her pajamas (which didn’t smell of beer and sweat and smoke and who knew what else) in the hope they would somewhat disguise her unwashed state. She checked Facebook briefly and was back out the door.
On her way to class she stopped by the campus convenience store and got some pills for her just-starting to hurt muscles.
--
Sitting in bio lab Eleanor examined her arms for any obvious bruising, anything that might give her away. Her left triceps were especially tender, which was strange because that was the side Yasha sheltered for as much of the show as he could. She reasoned it was because she ended up bracing that arm on the back of the guy in front of her, pushing against him hard. Her throat was a little raw and her ears still felt a little stuffed, but she seemed hardly the worse for wear. Compared to Yasha’s kidney damage and concussion, Eleanor was fine – though she was slightly annoyed at having lost an earring.
Nate finished the introductory lecture on the respiratory system in large animals. They were supposed to be dissecting fetal pigs that day, but for some reason the department either didn’t order them at all or didn’t order enough, because their class instead was supposed to dissect rats. Eleanor, for some reason, didn’t have much of a problem with the rats as much as the pigs, probably because they were fetal pigs and her strange hippie ways were very much against that. However, due to the general gross-out factor of all dissections, Nate instead made it entirely optional.
“If you feel like your life won’t be complete without cutting into something in bio 101, then go ahead and cut open a rat. Otherwise, it’s not required.”
In her mind, Eleanor sort of wanted to do the rat. But she had a feeling her unnamed classmates wouldn’t want to – especially since Nate’s previous class had already done one and the rat was sitting on the counter for students to look at if they chose – so she didn’t mention it. Instead they played with healthy and smoker’s pig lungs, looked at slides of lung tissue, and found their vital air capacity. Without the dissection, the class let out a little after 11. She made her way back to the house, stopping by the dining hall to get a sandwich for lunch.
--
She took a nice, long shower when she got back, doing a more thorough examination for other injuries her clothes had hidden. Her knees were slightly bruised from being pressed and banged against the rail, and her upper back and shoulders were starting to ache. She knew it would only get worse before it got better and was not looking forward to the next few days.
She prepared a lie as to why her copper container wasn’t quite finished and headed to the critique. I took it home because my locker has been giving me trouble and won’t open. But when I took it out when I got back one of the feet had broken off and I wasn’t sure how to fix it. It seemed plausible enough. But when she got to the crit she ended up telling the half-truth anyway.
“When I was bending that foot so it would sit flat, the solder broke and it came off. I wasn’t sure how to fix it. And then I noticed the other feet weren’t really in the right places to so I have to fix them all.”
Luckily, only nine out of sixteen students had finished boxes, so everyone had until the next class to finish and fix them. Eleanor planned to go back to the lab on Sunday when Sheal was there, though she had a feeling she wouldn’t.
The crit went well for everyone else, though Eleanor said nothing. She periodically flexed her hands and arms, testing her muscles, but was otherwise silent. During the break and for a few minutes after class she worked on the crochet project in the hall. It had grown a lot since she had last seen it Tuesday, with some chaining reaching above and across the rail and around the steel pillars. It was soothing to work on it, even if standing there to reach the higher parts made her left shoulder ache more. When she got back home she took some Aleve.
--
Later on Ces texted her.
C: Shafer at 730 with Anna and Nicole?
Thursdays were one of the nights Eleanor went to Angela’s and watched TV on the large flatscreen in her dorm’s common room. That night was Supernatural night, starting at 9. She figured she had time, and anyway, getting out was always a good thing for such a shut in. She readily agreed.
Ces and Eleanor left together. They were meeting the others outside Bo Dillaz since it was a fairly central location. Of course, since Nicole was involved, they were waiting in the cold for a good twenty minutes before she showed up – Anna had gotten there fairly quickly. They headed over to the dining hall.
Around 8:45 Eleanor left to walk to Angela’s for their TV night. She rode the campus security escort back to her house afterwards.
[1331]
[9609/50000]
God, this took forever to get out... I forgot what I did on Thursday, and now it's Monday, so I've got a lot of catching up to do...
She put her belt back on and grabbed her backpack, going down to the kitchen to forage for breakfast. She found bagels in the fridge and set about toasting one while munching a Nutrigrain bar. Yasha sat at the counter, eating pita chips and drinking juice. She quickly buttered her bagel and wrapped it in a paper towel for easy transport. They put shoes on and headed out to the car.
“We’re never doing this early-morning bus ride thing again,” she told him moodily in the car. He agreed.
He dropped her off at the Baltimore station just after 4:30. A quick hug and he left, as she shuffled inside to sit and wait. She zoned out, glancing at her watch occasionally. Had this been any other Greyhound trip she would have her iPod out, but her ears were still feeling stuffed up and she didn’t feel like dealing with the volume level necessary to actually hear it.
Just before 4:50 she stood and waited by her gate, printed tickets in hand. The ride to DC was short, the traffic nonexistent, and she dozed in her seat. There was an hour layover in DC, and she thought sleepily how ridiculous their planning was, considering they had just been there not 6 hours earlier. She nodded in and out of sleep, checking her watch when she snapped her eyes open, not wanting to miss her bus. 6:40 came and she stood again, ignoring her achy back. The second leg was much the same as the first, though she thought she may have actually slept a bit there because suddenly they were at exit 79 and it was just about time to get off. They were almost a full hour early, meaning she would have no trouble making her ten o’clock – though she would be vaguely smelly for it.
Rather than wait the half hour for the number 24 bus, she ended up walking back down the street to Broad. Her shoulders were starting to hurt, the combined stress of the pit and having made that trek twice in as many days. She caught the first bus that came down Broad to campus. In the ten minutes between getting back and having to leave, she put on her pajamas (which didn’t smell of beer and sweat and smoke and who knew what else) in the hope they would somewhat disguise her unwashed state. She checked Facebook briefly and was back out the door.
On her way to class she stopped by the campus convenience store and got some pills for her just-starting to hurt muscles.
--
Sitting in bio lab Eleanor examined her arms for any obvious bruising, anything that might give her away. Her left triceps were especially tender, which was strange because that was the side Yasha sheltered for as much of the show as he could. She reasoned it was because she ended up bracing that arm on the back of the guy in front of her, pushing against him hard. Her throat was a little raw and her ears still felt a little stuffed, but she seemed hardly the worse for wear. Compared to Yasha’s kidney damage and concussion, Eleanor was fine – though she was slightly annoyed at having lost an earring.
Nate finished the introductory lecture on the respiratory system in large animals. They were supposed to be dissecting fetal pigs that day, but for some reason the department either didn’t order them at all or didn’t order enough, because their class instead was supposed to dissect rats. Eleanor, for some reason, didn’t have much of a problem with the rats as much as the pigs, probably because they were fetal pigs and her strange hippie ways were very much against that. However, due to the general gross-out factor of all dissections, Nate instead made it entirely optional.
“If you feel like your life won’t be complete without cutting into something in bio 101, then go ahead and cut open a rat. Otherwise, it’s not required.”
In her mind, Eleanor sort of wanted to do the rat. But she had a feeling her unnamed classmates wouldn’t want to – especially since Nate’s previous class had already done one and the rat was sitting on the counter for students to look at if they chose – so she didn’t mention it. Instead they played with healthy and smoker’s pig lungs, looked at slides of lung tissue, and found their vital air capacity. Without the dissection, the class let out a little after 11. She made her way back to the house, stopping by the dining hall to get a sandwich for lunch.
--
She took a nice, long shower when she got back, doing a more thorough examination for other injuries her clothes had hidden. Her knees were slightly bruised from being pressed and banged against the rail, and her upper back and shoulders were starting to ache. She knew it would only get worse before it got better and was not looking forward to the next few days.
She prepared a lie as to why her copper container wasn’t quite finished and headed to the critique. I took it home because my locker has been giving me trouble and won’t open. But when I took it out when I got back one of the feet had broken off and I wasn’t sure how to fix it. It seemed plausible enough. But when she got to the crit she ended up telling the half-truth anyway.
“When I was bending that foot so it would sit flat, the solder broke and it came off. I wasn’t sure how to fix it. And then I noticed the other feet weren’t really in the right places to so I have to fix them all.”
Luckily, only nine out of sixteen students had finished boxes, so everyone had until the next class to finish and fix them. Eleanor planned to go back to the lab on Sunday when Sheal was there, though she had a feeling she wouldn’t.
The crit went well for everyone else, though Eleanor said nothing. She periodically flexed her hands and arms, testing her muscles, but was otherwise silent. During the break and for a few minutes after class she worked on the crochet project in the hall. It had grown a lot since she had last seen it Tuesday, with some chaining reaching above and across the rail and around the steel pillars. It was soothing to work on it, even if standing there to reach the higher parts made her left shoulder ache more. When she got back home she took some Aleve.
--
Later on Ces texted her.
C: Shafer at 730 with Anna and Nicole?
Thursdays were one of the nights Eleanor went to Angela’s and watched TV on the large flatscreen in her dorm’s common room. That night was Supernatural night, starting at 9. She figured she had time, and anyway, getting out was always a good thing for such a shut in. She readily agreed.
Ces and Eleanor left together. They were meeting the others outside Bo Dillaz since it was a fairly central location. Of course, since Nicole was involved, they were waiting in the cold for a good twenty minutes before she showed up – Anna had gotten there fairly quickly. They headed over to the dining hall.
Around 8:45 Eleanor left to walk to Angela’s for their TV night. She rode the campus security escort back to her house afterwards.
[1331]
[9609/50000]
God, this took forever to get out... I forgot what I did on Thursday, and now it's Monday, so I've got a lot of catching up to do...
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