Lots of parentheses today

On Sunday, May helped me sign up for open mic at Supermarket, which was really very awesome of her to take the time to do that - it was apparently a more complex process than I had first thought. It was cool, people were actually watching/listening, even though it was about 2 a.m. by the time I actually got on. I thought I was too tired to be nervous but I was wrong haha. Still fun!

Prior to playing, a pretty drunk ('pretty' here can describe her appearance or her drunkenness - both are accurate) British girl began playing with my ponytail (this is not a euphemism for something else) and running her hands through my hair. So we spoke a bit but I had a hard time understanding her due to the volume of the music and her thick English accent. Later, while drunkenly putting her arms around me (I know, right? HELLO!), she said something like, "I feel safe," which, for a moment, made me feel like The Man, but when she repeated herself, I realised that I had misheard her: "I feel sick." God damn it. The moral of this story is, when drunk lady starts getting all up on ya, be prepared to dodge projectile vomit.
No, I'm kidding - I wasn't sprayed, but I suspect that some puking did take place later.

I'm currently in my second week of semester 2 of television. There are a lot of projects up ahead, and it is somewhat daunting. I'm doing a children's literature class as an elective, so I have to read kids' novels. I feel a little embarrassed on the bus, reading this book intended for 12 year olds. I'm actually really enjoying it too, but the back cover already told me something tragic is going to happen, and it's obviously coming up soon so I'm dreading it. Kind of lame. What if your life had a back cover synopsis that spoiled all the major events? Jeez.

I've been doing way more reading in general lately, but mostly not for school stuff. Actually I've been starting books and not finishing them, which is probably a bad thing. I've been working on Life of Pi on and off for like half a year. All I hear is good things about it, so I feel ashamed for being unable to get into it.
I just finished a book entitled Life With Billy, which was not particularly well-written, but details a really interesting case from the 1980s in which a Canadian woman, after suffering years of unbelievable spousal abuse (seriously, this guy was a monster), blows her husband's head off with a shotgun. It exploded, literally. Rad. But it sure didn't fix her life, poor lady. Check out this book if you get a chance, but feel free to skip the boring parts.

I just accidentally napped for three hours, from 7 to 10, and I am a little sad about it.