ramanda's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- you used to be so amused 10.12.01 4:49pm I live in a German town in Southwestern Ontario. Most of the year this means nothing, but come October it means one thing: Oktoberfest. I assume that there's cultural significance involved in Oktoberfest, but for most people it's just an excuse to go out and get wasted. You can now, of course, see why such a celebration appeals to your humble narrator. During Roktoberfest (as my friends and I have come to know it) 'fest-halls' get set up all over the city. You go, you pay your $10 to get in, and you buy tickets for beer. It's not even German beer. In fact, there's only one kind of beer available. Molson Canadian. Please hold my plastic cup while I puke. I'm not much of a beer drinker, but if I was, Canadian would certainly not be my first choice. So yeah, Oktoberfest is mostly like a really shitty carnival, where you pay all this money to get in, but you can only go on that one stupid ride that spins you around until you feel like you're going to puke. Despite all of that, Oktoberfest is always a good time. Drunk people in funny hats (cos everyone wears funny hats) dancing to polka music (Did I mention that there's polka music? Cos there is, and it rules.) is my city's claim to fame, and while I'm not proud of it, I'm certainly down with going out to rip it up with the rest of them. All of that being said, my friends and I are heading out tonight to do it up Bavarian style.
3:53pm This entry is dedicated to the person who has recalled the book I borrowed from the library. Fuck you. Who does that? Who recalls a book that someone else has checked out? I got there first, get your own fucking book. The book is due on the 15th, but we're not discussing it in class until the 18th, and the mid-term is on the 25th. Either I return the book and go buy a copy, or I pay the fines for having it out past the due date. Argh. Like I really need to spend $15 on another book. 3:33pm It has come to my attention that there are lots of people visiting here from diary critic. *waves* Thank you all so much for your sweetness in my guestbook. I really do appreciate it. I'm having a wicked bout of performance anxiety though. You're all coming here, maybe expecting to be entertained, and all I've got to offer are quiet little stories about my life. I should start doing drugs, or sleeping around, so I've got something sordid and exciting to talk about. Til then, thanks for visiting. 2:11pm It's really nice to be woken by a familiar voice on the phone. All the warmth in that gesture is lost though, when that person is calling you to tell you that maybe that thing with the Anthrax in Flordia was not just a crappy coincidence. I tried to watch CNN, to see what was going on, but after ten minutes I had to shut it off. I can feel the fear and the stress settling on me like a dog circling on the floor before it lies down. I'm going to listen to some Bob Dylan and make myself a sandwich. -A 2:03 p.m. - 10.12.01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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