I'm officially not a registered student at UCLA, though I think they want $2000 from me for withdrawing. Don't see that happening anytime soon. I departed UCLA yesterday with my shiny new diploma (master of science) in hand. Keys are turned in and office is clear.
Granny also came home from the hospital last night. I haven't been able to reach her for the past few days (things must still be a whirlwind there), but I'm trying again in 20 minutes. Nobody has told me anything as far as prognosis (that the right word?), so I have no clue how she's actually doing. It's ok, I haven't really told them anything of my situation for most of the same reasons, so we'll just keep movin' on. By the way, thank you, seriously, to all who ignored my request and offered your sympathies for her anyway. It meant just a little bit more that you cared so much that you didn't care rather or not I wanted to hear it.
I drove another carload of stuff up yesterday. On the way I had 4 big realizations:
- I can list all the big landmarks of I-5 from L.A. to Livermore, and they're pathetic.
- I think I'm technically a transient now.
- The guy that I could see in my rear view mirror looked really awkward while he was picking his nose. I should probably stop picking my nose when I drive.
- A long time ago, I spoke with a friend about how he wanted to get each level of college degree at different universities; bachelor's, master's, and doctorate at 3 different schools. If I return to college somewhere and get a PhD in the future, I will have done that, without really trying. I'll probably also pick up an extra 2 master's degrees along the way. Crazy.
I have no clue where all of my stuff is going to go. Annie's apartment is nice, and cute, but in no way can her room handle 2 people's stuff. I'm swinging by IKEA today to see what magic they can do. Today, I also have to call and start canceling everything and changing my address. It's also time to start emailing people and notify them that I've officially left Los Angeles. I hate emails like that. I'm so awkward.
Tuesday, my apt was so busy. 2 insurance adjustors showed up to take pictures and talk with me. A lady showed up to turn off our gas. Apparently, it never got switched over to my name. I gave her $40 and she just left. She was the most unprofessional person I've dealt with in a long time: "I don't give a shit," she says. The last knock on the door was the most surprising.
I opened the door and my 2 closest L.A. friends were standing there. They had taken off work to come and make sure I was ok. They had heard a little from my blog, but they wanted me to tell them to their faces. It was heartwarming knowing that there were a few people in L.A. that cared that much for me. They offered their houses, $, help, and had the courtesy to not yell at me, even though they might not agree with me giving up on my dream of being Dr. Rob, for now. They took me out to go see The Fighter, which was amazing. We also went to Ugo's Wine Bar in Culver City, which was also really fun.
They also made me swore that I wouldn't blog about it. Come on. I blogged about DIWMGf. It's not like anybody reads this anyway. I just wanted to show how nice my closest friends are, maybe to help defend why I only have a few close friends.
Don't get pissed,