Completely unrelated to anything: I just realized the meaning of the title: One Flew Over Cuckoo's Nest. It's so obvious, amazingly for the last eight years I had absolutely no idea and always had been faintly puzzled why Kescey chose it.

After some trials and tribulations, settled into my new apartment. This new one is a little further away from campus, which will be a hassle. It is not far enough to warrant the expense of on-campus parking, but not close enough to walk briskly to and fro. It gets absurd when I thought about going to work out using the campus gym, but then decided against it because I was too lazy to walk the way.

The room itself is pretty good. Pretty spacious, hardwood floors, a nice view to the street, though the walls are of a weird green color that at night have a oppressive quality. After arranging the furniture I stepped back the room and somehow the room, or the feeling it gave me, reminds me of this this painting. Of course, I hope I have better luck in life than the owner of that particular room.

The house itself is what my landlord optimisitically calls "beautiful Victorian" in the ad. What it really is a just a old, badly-maintained house, with peeling paints, creaky stairs, dark corridors, unworkable windows.