Have you ever recommended your favorite book/album/movie/whatever to your best friend and then they don’t like it and you’re just like ‘who the fuck do you think you are’ and then you hate them forever?
Uh, me neither.
Incidentally, I no longer talk about things I really like with people I want to keep as friends.
Been a while.
I don't think I can do anything consistently any more. This includes the things that I actually enjoy.
I stopped taking my birth control pills a couple weeks ago. I thought they might be influencing my moods.
I believe that I can now safely say that, no, it wasn't the pills. I am just a naturally gloomy individual these days. It's strange to think about the fact that right now (and fairly often these days) I find myself wanting to listen to sad music and weep. I don't actually cry, but I want to. This is not to say that I'm actually sad, either: it is simply an active desire to do sad things, I think. It is difficult to express. I'll work on it.
On the bright side, I've been more social lately! That's a good thing. On the other hand, being social ain't cheap, and it gives me tiny little panic attacks.
Probably I should just tell my new friends that I'm a fuck up, and work with their lowered expectations instead. Less pressure.
Today I did something productive! It wasn't much, but I at least wrote a little bit. Allways look on the bright etc.
I drank close to a goddamn gallon of coke today, and my blood pressure went from normal to 128/90 (high diastolic for me) down to 103/77 (low systolic/normal diastolic). We have a sphygmomanometer at home, which is fun to play with.
ETA: Wait, so now my flist only shows the most recent post from each of my friends? Or something? When the heck did that happen? (I am trying to censor my cursing more, because I think I taught a whole lot of children some very bad language in the past ten days or so; also it's the sign of a poor vocabulary, so I should definitely fight that.)
So, me being female, it is time for my monthly crazies (like a werewolf, but with less slaughtering sheep and running around in woods, mostly). This on top of the already ubiquitous emotional instability I've been rocking lately, combined with a much larger cup of coffee than I should have had, means that I want to read poetry and burst into tears and shout at someone and write an entire novel, and I want to do all of it right now
, while at the same time running down the street as fast as I possibly can.
I had a job interview on Monday. The position was posted on Thursday morning, I applied that afternoon, they called me Friday. The interview was the first one I've ever had where I didn't come out and go 'well I completely fucked that
up.' (Let's be honest: in my entire life
I have had a grand total of three actual
interviews for employment, including this one.) I was a bit concerned, because it is a part-time minimum wage book-sorting position, and the people I spoke to in the office were like 'Youuuuuuuu have a Bachelor's degree? And, um, you're here.' Yes, vocational school library. yes I am.
But, the next morning I woke up to a call offering me the position. Hooray. So then I've been submitting tons of paperwork, and once that all gets processed (a week minimum, at the blazing speed of academic administration) I can start working.
So, things are on an upswing, I guess? But this isn't progress
, or anything. It's not an improvement. I could have dropped all my classes at Athens tech and gone back to grading high school writing exams. The money would certainly be better. This is just a thing. Resume fodder. Experience so that later on I'll be more marketable for other jobs that I don't really care about.
I was sitting around reading the other day, and I had a notebook on hand to keep all the characters straight, and I realized I had written down a note on another page. "this all just feels so fucking futile"
Nothing to do with what I was reading, just how I feel about what I'm doing right now. I'm finishing the second course of anatomy and physiology, because I did the first half, but I really don't care at all. Getting this job? I mean, on some logical level I suppose I should be happy, but I don't really care about that either. It's just not registering. Or rather, my relevance scale is all screwy these days.( Here are some thoughts about Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy:Collapse )
While thinking about writing quite a bit, I realized that I do
like first person narration, because it forces the writer to take on the persona of the character, and find that character's true voice. However, I find that this means that the manipulation of prose is not limited to the author's creativity and skill, but rather to the poetic inclinations of that character
. In fact, understanding
is limited to the character's capabilities, description limited to their vocabulary. While writing as someone who is distinct from yourself may be quite a challenge, and may provide a more consistent absorption into the narration, it also makes it very hard to justify the beautiful wordcraft that the third person can be so inclined to.
"Giving her some small, orphaned kisses in the hollow of her wounded hand, he opened up the most hidden passageways of his heart and drew out an interminable and lacerated intestine, the terrible parasitic animal that had incubated in his martyrdom."
(One Hundred Years of Solitude
, Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
The only reason I am even writing this entry is
that otherwise I would just be pacing and pacing and pacing and pacing.
I looked through my pen-and-ink journal today, and read the entry from right after my meltdown. It's seventeen pages long. All I could think of, flipping through it, was 'holy hell, I wrote this?' It's beautiful and painful, and there are phrases in there that I can't believe came from my head. That I can't believe are a first draft, as rough as they can be. It doesn't read like I was writing it for myself, though I certainly didn't have the intention of ever showing it to anyone else.
I think that I like the way I put words together.
I've never re-read any of my private journals before, but it's a practice that I may cultivate.
Things that I really, really like when I'm emotionally unstable:
1. Poetry of all sorts
3. 80s music (sentimental British altrock esp) (what the fuck, I'm listening to The Smiths)
4. Punk music
6. Philosophy, including:
6a. Michel Foucault
7. Surrealist paintings
9. Learning a new language
Things that I normally like but really, really don't when I'm emotionally unstable:
1. Television (any sort)
2. SciFi/Fantasy ANYTHING, apparently
3. Any and all video games
5. Almost all people (though I actually can't tell if the misanthropy is a new development or not)
- Tags:feelings, lists
- Music:The Smiths - Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want
I can't remember if I had any resolutions from last New Year's, but whatever. My priorities now are very different from what they were a year ago.I am going to fix this.
I am unhappy. I don't like the way my life is going. I don't like the way me is going. It took being physically unwell for me to finally become honest enough with myself to realize it, but whatever. I've finally figured it out, as well as I can. I'm not making New Year's resolutions, because that's fairly arbitrary. Instead, I'll go with the date of my meltdown, December 5th, because that's when I made my
2011 was a fucked up, miserable year (made even more fucked up by the fact that I didn't even notice), and I hope that 2012 will be better, but I'm going to try to avoid the trap of thinking that a new year means a fresh start.
I make my own fresh start. It's not the year that needs to change, just me.
(though it looks like that won't get going until summer, so fml)
Happy fucking new year.
Dear potential employers:
I understand that you are so swamped with applicants that it is impossible for you to grant each one the consideration that they actually deserve, and that very few of the many qualified candidates will ever hear back from you or have an interview at all. But seriously, people. It is common fucking courtesy to at least send out a form letter (It doesn't have to be long! Two sentences is more than enough!) confirming that you received and read my cover letter and resume, and another one (equally short!) to inform me that the position has been filled. Jesus. It's not difficult.
How many people have actually done me this courtesy? Maybe two out of a year and a half of applying, and only one of them was at all timely.
In other news:
I was looking up Shakespeare quotations last night, because my bffkj has decided that she wants some Shakespeare for her 3rd tat. I'm personally rooting for some Hamlet. Anyhow, I went from messing around on my favorite web site
(around 9:00 PM) to looking up poetry (because as my emotional state deteriorates, my appreciation for poetry and the craftsmanship of beautiful prose increases exponentially), to looking up that one thing I read that one time that quoted that poem what was it called to reading amazing bullshit until 8 in the morning. So, I slept for a couple hours, and I've noted that my filters are a little less... assiduous? when I'm tired (assiduous is not the word I want; exhaustive? precise? something)*. So I've been writing, and thinking about writing, and writing about thinking about writing.
Unfortunately, my vocabulary (and ability to craft a sentence that doesn't run on) is also weakened in this state, which is a bit frustrating. Lots of the tip-of-the-tongue going on over here.
However, I have great hopes that later I shall throw some feelings into the mix! And then I shall have feelings about feelings, and then I shall be thinking about feelings about feelings, and then maybe I can start writing about thinking about feelings about feelings (and then I can think about that).
*1/03/2012 ETA: efficient would probably be a good descriptor to put here.
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things.
1700 words - almost three pages of punctuationless, poorly developed, rambling, nonstop stream of consciousness outline, and over 3000 words of so-so actually fleshed-out narrative (which I like, and have reread several times already, and have been editing like mad but it has some problems because I don't know how to end sentences and when it's a bad idea to continue them within parentheses). Not a bad day, all told. I hate the last half of the outline somewhat; some of the thoughts in there are good, but it needs to be different, because there's something wrong, so I'll get back to that. There's a scene that I know needs to happen (I have already picked out the soundtrack for it and everything), but how it gets to that point and the context is a problem.
So probably I'll go for a long walk tomorrow so that I can think about that.
- Music:grey does matter - life from under
I feel awesome as hell.
So, it turns out that I'm not one of those people who is super sensitive to needles and cries and moans and barfs and passes out (I guess everyone's nerves are different). Honestly, I really, really, really enjoyed getting my tattoo. It. Was. Awesome. Holy shit. I still feel pretty awesome, but really now. Wow. Though I worked the math out and I payed that guy like $5.02 a minute. Fuckin' worth it.
Also! I successfully socialized today! I met new people! They were all gigantor nerds! I was minimally awkward! I have new facebook friend requests as a result! Towards the end of the evening, my friend's husband turned to her and said 'I like your friend; she's funny.' AWESOME. It is a good day.
Also, I was indeed wise not to let on what exactly I was getting inked in advance, because once mom saw it she was like (not verbatim) 'Didn't Iago say that? You got one of Iago's lines tattooed into your flesh forever?' and somewhat horrified.
Fuck yeah, I now have a permanent, physical connection to Shakespeare.
ETA: shit, should have thought a bit more about getting that done right under the waistband of my underpants. Welp, going commando for a few days.
- Music:David Ford - Go To Hell
Welp, caught a cold right before exams (that's on top of the upper respiratory tract infection I was already taking antibiotics for), and then my period started at the same time, three days early. Hooray. That will really motivate you to have a great day, that will.
Did not study for a single one of my exams (because I just do not caaaaaare), but the lowest I made on any of them was an 80-something. So, lesson learned: studying is for chumps.
I had all this writing I was going to do, but I spent yesterday recuperating mostly and watching movies (though I went out to lunch and bought a giant sketchbook to make art in). Today, I honestly can't remember what I did. I went out to get... groceries? I think I read for a while? I napped in an uncomfortable chair, I know that much. That really doesn't account for the whole of the last twelve hours, though. And then mom came home! We watched Dr. Horrible together and listened to Commentary! The Musical.
Anyway, the point is that I haven't really done any of the writing I wanted to do. Stupid cold is making most of my ideas fall right out of my head, and I even stopped narrating everything all the time. God damn it!
Tomorrow I will try to be productive, and do productive things.
For whatever reason every single one of my finals is either on Monday or Tuesday, the last two days of exams. Absolutely nothing is fresh in my head - my last psych class was two entire weeks before the exam. Also, illness made all the things I knew fall out of my head.
On the other hand, it's nicer than the alternative. If I had tests in the middle of my existential crisis last week, I probably would have failed them on goddamn principle.
I wished I cared about any of these classes, but I really don't, and it's hard as hell to sit here and study this crap.
ETA: You know what's exciting? What really gets the old adrenaline going? When your prof tells you the final will ONLY cover the material that was discussed in class AFTER the midterm, and then you sit down for the final and see questions from the first few chapters. I actually threw out the notes from that part of the class. WHOOPS. Still made 100, fuck yeah, technical school makes me feel smart as hell.
Now let's see how well I retain information when I watch an action movie marathon while studying.
ETA2: Not at all well, apparently.
So, a generally reasonable friend talks about a book he really likes, says I have to read it because it's so amazing and awesome and bad ass and so on. He actually goes out and buys me a copy. I go, 'oh, cool, thanks,' and read it a few days later.
It is terrible.
It is so terrible that it actually makes me angry.
It's barely a narrative, and all that's there is poorly developed aggression and crude language. I mean, seriously, it's like the author took out all his pent up rage from puberty and just unleashed it in a juvenile torrent of filth.
I'm... not sure I want to hang out with this friend any more. (If I was going to talk about a book I really liked, by the way, it would probably be Cold Comfort Farm, just so that there's a basis for comparison here.)
So, just in case there's any confusion about this: I don't get drunk any more. Period.
This is because I am an asshole when I am drunk, and can be fairly abusive to my friends, as well as being an all-around embarrassment. I am aware of that, I'm also aware that it's dangerous, and I have not had more than two drinks together since February of this year. The exception was for my dad's birthday party in July at the Terrapin Brewery, and I regretted the amount I drank even as it happened.
I'll admit that I'm not a perfect human being, and certainly not a perfect friend. I have admitted as much to my bff KJ, even as recently as this past Saturday.
But I don't do those things any more.
So, what I'm going to do is, I'm going to take all the papers associated with schoolwork (notes, thousands of printed powerpoint slides, homework assignments) and I'm going to use them to make papier mache. I will create a giant cocoon in the farthest corner of the basement. I will seal myself inside. Come spring time, I will emerge! And... something. I probably won't be a butterfly. Maybe I can metamorphosis myself through an associate degree without doing any actual work? That would be cool.
Woke up sick today. Cough sniff ow. Failed to finish paper last night, so I just got that done (gotta do another one that's due tomorrow, but fortunately much shorter). Have to take my online midterm at some point today, and then studystudystudy for the tests that I have in classes (two on monday, quiz tuesday, big ass fucking midterm on wednesday). To top it all of, my period just slunk in the door, two months and seventeen days late.
IS THIS WEEKEND AWESOME OR WHAT
Some day when I am independently wealthy I will own the most awesome combat boots in the history of the world. I shall call them my shit kickers. Their purpose will be to kick shit. This has been a dream of mine since... middle school, I think.
Also, I will own a pair of All Stars in each color of the rainbow, and one in grey (not part of the rainbow but my second favorite color).
Had a 100 average in my anatomy & physiology class. Started working 30+ intensive hours a week and BAM, next test score goes down to 85. AWESOME.
ETA: GODDAMMIT PROFESSOR DICKBUTT, STOP GIVING ME ESSAYS DUE AT THE SAME TIME AS FUCKING MIDTERM TAKE HOME EXAMS.
So today seemed like it was going to be a pretty meh, whatever sort of day, but then I was driving and Woodpecker from Mars came on the radio and I turned the volume and the bass up all the way, and it turns out that today is actually a sort of EXCELLENT! EXCELLENT! EXCELLENT! sort of day.
Welp, I am a student again.
I also have exactly 4 cents in my checking account.
This is because I deposited a nickel.
Being a student is work. I kind of forgot about that.
There was a mouse.
In my house.
In the same room as my two cats.
They did not notice.
Mom and I caught it after a while.
We released it into the yard.
It looked pretty freaked out.
I hope it's OK.
(I think it was a baby.
It was tiny.
But I'm glad that it's not in my house any more.
Did you know that there are muscles in your neck with the sole purpose of helping you vomit? You don't use then any other time, really. And, just like any other muscles in your body, they can become fatigued. Like you've been running and lactic acid is building up in your calves. Except it's marathon barfing and your neck is ache-y and limp like a wet noodle.
So that was my Saturday night!
Good dinner party, guys.
This is the last time I consent to go to a partyw here I'm the onlty one present under the age of 55.
ETA (an hour later): the only thing I have the attention span for is cleaning. This is really effing boring. Wish I was sobe renough to read a book.NEVER AGAIN.
ETA (hours later): being drunk is the most boring thing ever. EVER.
ETA (morning after): fuck off, spammers.
Eight beers in a two-hour period the night before will leave you with a fairly unhappy stomach in the morning. I did, in fact, notice all the drunken typos while I was writing them, and I did backspace to fix most of them, but I decided to leave a few for posterity.
So, I am having a ton of fun reading Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow (only 716 pages to go!). It's a bit difficult to follow in places, but that's part of its charm; it runs rapidly from prose to something dangerously close to poetry, from narrative to free-flowing stream of consciousness and tangential descriptions. All of it's beautiful, even when he's talking about boners.
It's definitely a slow slog, but it's also very pleasant. I often find myself grinning while I read. I really have to concentrate, though. I need a cup of tea, a silent room, and a large dictionary present in order to read properly: I tried once with music on and I had to re-read fifteen pages. Never again.
So... I guess I'm going to school again in the fall! That'll be cool, I think. I miss learning things every day, and I function better in a preexisting structure than trying to make one for myself. Oops. Also, my plan to just 'find a job' was not well thought-out.
Also: this is an opportunity to use up some of the many office supplies that I have hoarded over the years.
omg i think i have like 40 blank notebooks and journals kicking around my room help i can't stop myself help help omg
Nothing ruins that calm, peaceful, just-about-to-fall-asleep feeling quite like having a beetle fly into your ear canal.
After months and months of giving my cat an insulin shot twice a day, he finally figured out that it happens first thing every morning. 0ver the past couple days we have spent hours looking for him while he hides in small, dark places.
THIS IS VERY ANNOYING.
We can still nab him and jab him pretty easily in the evenings, though.
( I had to put them somewhere, since I'm cleaning out my FB profileCollapse )
I went for a bike ride when there was a break in the rain today! It was nice, but my main concern around here is riding without getting run over by a car. There's not a lot of bike-friendly places within a couple miles (or in the city period).
Mostly I ride through neighborhoods, so I don't have to worry quite
as much about people driving like maniacs. I would go through Green Acres but I know for sure that I would get terribly lost in there, and the closest road has been closed off for construction so I'd have to go miles out my way to get in.
- Music:AC/DC - Thunderstruck
So, if you suddenly switch from a high-fat-high-starch-high-sugar-high-salt sort of eating tendency to a nearly-vegan, nearly-salt-free, nearly-sugar-free, wheat-free, processed-foods free diet, you find yourself looking forward to odd things.
My big treat of the evening? A warm bowl of porridge. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
At the beginning of the week (I started last Monday) I went to sleep at night dreaming about beef, but now I don't even really miss bread any more. Could do with some salt, though.
Bonus: without increasing my amount of daily exercise one bit, I've lost five pounds.
ALSO, what the fuck is up with all these spam comments, lj? Ridiculous.
ALSO, I think I might maybe finally have some ideas about what to do with my future. Perhaps. Updates as events warrant.
ALSO, I have started watching my first Korean Drama! I think I like it because, unlike American soap operas, I can't tell if the acting is really bad or not. The plot is ridiculous and convoluted, and as far as I can tell the love interest is always a redeemed bad dude and not the dude that's been kind and supportive from the very beginning, so I'm already a bit bummed. Nice dude is my favorite character. Bad dude, however, is played by an actor who is also a pop singer, and therefore is definitely going to get the girl despite how obnoxious he is.
ALSO, I need a job again. And I refuse to move out of town to look for one. :\
- Music:Metallica - The Unforgiven
So of course, of course, the first time that I feel like getting trashed in ages, I drink so much that I black out and then apparently say something (no idea what) to someone (no idea who) that manages to undermine eight years of friendship. Of course. Good fucking job, EB.
Got drunk drunk drunk last night.
Still at about 20% drunk right now.
Woke up naked. How did I get home?
A good pay day, I assume.
Mentally composing "Thank you"/"sorry I'm such a lightweight" notes to everyone I met last night.
Fortunately, I'm a terribly friendly, happy drunk, so I'm mostly sure that I had a great time.
Aaaannnd, it pretty much sucks.
I guess we get weekly feedback, but it would be nice if there was just a little more interaction for this first week. I never know if I'm doing something wrong or not. I worry that next Monday will come around and I'll have a note saying: YOU ARE TERRIBLE GO HOME AND DON'T COME BACK.
It's really hard for me to focus.
There's a woman who sits across from me, and I tend to stare at the expressions she makes as she reads papers. The most common one is a sort of disappointed grimace.
I think all the people who work there full time must be exceptionally boring. Doing this for more than a month would kill me.
I would take more breaks, but I'm fairly slow and I have to work longer to meet minimum productivity.
I sort of made a friend on Friday, but she wasn't here today and her training manual was gone; I assume she failed the qualifying exam. I get the feeling I'm not going to make any other friends here at all.
Working environment, you are the suck.
yeah so i'm pretty boring
- Music:what is that stupid pop soing doing in my head get it out
Had an interesting dream last night. I don't normally remember dreams at all; perhaps it was the wine?
I was living in an apartment in a tall building, and it had suddenly become infested with zombies. The first part of the dream involved me rushing through my apartment, filled with horror, pushing the living dead away from me before they could feast on my flesh. Then I ran outside, and wandered around outside a gas station aimlessly, desperately hoping for some sort of solution. The zombies appeared to be limited to the interior of the my apartment; outside there were just douchey frat guys everywhere and they were all dressed for a day at the beach. No help from them at all.
After a little while I felt sort of determined, and I hiked up, past the gas station, up the hill, and back into the building. I found some friends loitering around, one of whom apparently lived in the apartment with me, and recruited them all to help me deal with it.
At second glance, the zombies were all pretty frail and dried-out, like they had been left out in the sun too long. They were exceptionally feeble and easy to avoid and capture. Also, there appeared to have been a major party in the apartment previously; there was shit of unknown origin everywhere, so it turned into a zombie-removal-and-general-housekeeping event. I guess the zombies came from the party too?
Problem: where to dump zombies?
Solution: drop them off the balcony!
Except when I opened the curtains to balcony's sliding door, the little patio was covered in dessicated (and unmoving) corpses. My supposed roommate was disgusted. This was also, apparently, the result of the one truly ballin' party.
So we grabbed the writhing little-stick figures, holding then with their snapping jaws directed away from anyone (like the appropriate way to hold scissors, but with zombies) and tossed them over the edge of the balcony. Sometimes there would be piles of garbage, shaking slightly, and sticking out from under them would be a pair of feebly-kicking, corpse-like legs or one desperately grasping, bony hand. They weren't very heavy piles of garbage, but it apparently doesn't take much.
I woke mid-clean up. It didn't occur to me in the dream, but awake, I worried about what to do if someone got bitten, and wouldn't the zombies thrown out the window bother the general population?
- Music:Minus the Bear - My Time
Training was ridiculously difficult.
I spoke to one of the group leaders, and she said that usually they have more time to train newcomers. Perhaps because of the week lost to the snow storm, we got five days' training crammed into two and a half days. Suck suck suck. I've been exhausted and brain dead coming home each day.
But! I passed the qualifying test on the first try! It was not an amazing score or anything, but I still passed. So now I can be an actual employee and start working on Monday. :)
And maybe, now that training's over with, I'll actually have time to eat lunch.
As a reward, I bought myself a bottle of wine on the way home. I was going to treat myself to some quality Suikoden II time with my booze, but I've been wound so tightly that I started crying while reading something stupid in the newspaper, so I think maybe video games aren't for me at the moment. Especially not that one.
noooo jowy how could you betray us we were like family oh no etc etc
So, training goes like this:
You read the training manual.
You look at sample student essays.
You read why those essays received the grades they did.
You bullshit and grade some practice essays.
You're probably wrong.
You talk to a supervisor.
You spend ten minutes being told absolutely nothing new.
You sit back down and repeat.
Eight hours a day for the next few days.
- Music:Massive Attack - Unfinished Sympathy
I am interviewing a man in a hospital bed. He is somewhat large and he has a buzz cut. He's pretty generic looking. This man in an expert in plane crashes. I am interviewing him because he has information pertinent to my investigation. My friend, Kiersten, has been abducted.
This man, while he was investigating a crashed plane, saw a pumpkin. This pumpkin is extremely relevant. This pumpkin will help me find Kiersten. He saw the pumpkin, but he could not get close enough to it to examine it in detail. However, since he is an expert in things that explode, he could tell from marks on the pumpkin that it had been launched several hundred feet through the air by TNT.
This is all the man can tell me: I head off in a car and drive to where he saw the pumpkin. The road that I drive on is flat and windy. To the left of the road is a sheer cliff going up. To the right is a flat area, grassy, some trees. Beyond that is a shiny blue ocean.
I stop my car near a crashed airplane. Except it doesn't appear to be damaged in any way, it's simply sitting on the grass. Nearby, there is a giant wrought-iron gate, tall and foreboding, with a spiky fence extending on either side. Directly on the other side of the gate is the pumpkin. I can see it. It's just sitting there, looking like a pumpkin. I could probably touch it if I reached through the bars. There are a bunch of picnickers nearby, and I ask one of them about it, but they don't have the key to the gate. I go home, defeated. I cannot get to the pumpkin, all hopes of finding Kiersten are lost.
Back at the base of operations (the kitchen of someone's house; it's no place that I've ever been before, The owners are an old couple who are present but don't say anything) I relate to Keith that I have hit a dead end and that I can't retrieve his girlfriend. He is furious. He runs out of the Kitchen and into the garage, hops into one of the old peoples' cars, and reverses down the drive way at an unwise speed. An awkward moment passes, and he suddenly returns at the same great speed, parks the car back in the garage, hops into the other car, and drives away again.
There is the feeling of time passing, but I can't remember any of it.
Keith returns to the house, carrying Kiersten in his arms. He has managed to rescue her, but the mystery of what happened remains: who took her, and where did he take her? Somehow he retrieved her without dealing with any of that. He carries Kiersten through the kitchen and down two or three steps into the living room. It is furnished as one might expect, except instead of carpeting there is a thick mass of swamp grasses and cattails growing from the floor. Kiersten is terribly distressed; something that happened to her while she was kidnapped traumatized her so much that she can't stand the sight of cattails. Keith decides to take her back to their house.
The day having been saved, I am back in my own home.
In my bedroom (which looks just like it actually does) a Necromancer appears sort of near my closet. He looks like a fairly normal guy, brown hair, glasses. He insists that I foiled his plans, so he begins to summon a demon to kill me. I kill him with magic before he can finish summoning it ( I can't describe it any better than 'I kill him with magic.' That's just how it was). The demon appears anyway. It declares that it is a justice demon, and because I killed the necromancer it will now kill me.
I dash into my bathroom and slam the door, but it doesn't close all the way. The demon throws bookshelves around in my room. My bathroom is an elevator, so I attempt to escape vertically, but it is malfunctioning. I dash out the other door (it is a jack-and-jill bath with two entrances, btw) and run through the hall, den, and kitchen. The demon does not appear to be in immediate pursuit. In the kitchen, my mother is sitting at the breakfast table. She is drinking coffee and working on a crossword puzzle. As I run past her and out the front door I shout out 'I need more magic!' My mother, without looking up, sips her coffee and mutters back 'You always need more fucking magic.'
My dog is alive and present and he follows me out of the house. I run up to the top of the driveway and pause next to the maple tree, winded. Chef is wandering around the front yard, frolicking and sniffing through the grass, his tail wagging. Looking back at the house, I can see the long, heavy form of the justice demon fall out of my second-story bedroom window with a 'plop.' It is slowly, leisurely pursuing me.
I wake up.
Managed to use the words 'located,' 'local,' and 'location' in one sentence.
I made up a mantra for myself! It involves... nine impolite words! But it helps me focus on whatever needs doing, and that's what counts. Actual mantras make me focus on the nature of spirituality, and that just distracts me (though I guess that's the point of the mantra, but I have issues with that stemming from a high school reading of Siddhartha by Herman Hesse, which cemented him as the worst author ever in my opinion omg so much hate argh argh argh).
What was I saying...?
Anyway, I am getting stuff done! I'm very proud of myself. Well, kind of proud, because now I'm taking a break and reacquainting myself with my lj. I'm glad it stores all my old icons, even though I no longer have a paid account and can't use them. It didn't make sense to pay while I was taking lj breaks, but now that I am not in school and have brain power to spare, perhaps I can justify the expense of renewing the account. It's only when I don't have a life that I have the time and inclination to blags regularly. Of course, I now no longer have scholarship money coming my way every semester, so I can afford it less. There's a Catch-22 in here somewhere.
I guess I'll go back to doing things now. And when I'm done I'll have more things to do! How exciting.
- Location:on my bed
- Music:Collide - Halo (Porn on Beta Mix)
It would have been nice if the "interviewees" had been informed in advance that the "interview" was actually just a bunch of paperwork and an essay question. That would have been super.
- Music:Iron Maiden - Hallowed be thy Name
I am freaking out so badly. I wish I could feel anxious without getting physically ill, but no dice. The constant pacing has been driving me a bit mad too, but I put on a pedometer earlier and I've paced about a mile so far. So I guess I can feel good about that?
I thought maybe I could be productive today to keep my mind off of tomorrow, but that is really, really not going to happen. Things to do just made me freak out more.
Therapy! It is in my immediate future. Definitely.
So, I'm going to ignore all those lists of things that I need to do (I can do them perfectly well tomorrow afternoon or not at all, thank you very much), put some laundry in the washer, kick back with a cup of tea and put Star Trek on the teevee. Decaf, definitely decaf.( I sure do love making lists of thingsCollapse )
Another thing that I enjoy, besides making lists, is organizing things in interesting ways. And making databases. And stuff! Recently I discovered LibraryThing
which lets you catalog your books online! Only the first 250 are free, though. But still, it's fun! And you can find the exact edition of your book and create a display of the covers and tag things and organize them into collection and find other people who have the same books that you have and aaaaaaaaaa
Anyway, I think it's pretty great.
You can go through the books that are most commonly tagged as "unread
," so, essentially they're books that people buy because they feel that they should read them or that they will make their shelves look more well-read, but don't actually read. You can also go through books tagged as "read," which includes, in the top eight, every single Harry Potter book and the Hobbit, closely followed by The Da Vinci Code and every single standard high school book ever. Would anyone actually read 1984 if they didn't have to?
- Music:Mark Knopfler - Why Aye Man
I love making lists.
I love putting things into various kinds of order, and then I love writing them all down in lists.
Here is a list of books that I would like to own nice copies of, excluding books that I already own even though I would love to have fancier copies of them to make my shelves look more beautiful:
- The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien
- Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
- Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Doestoevsky
- One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
- The Complete Works of Shakespeare
- War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy
- The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky
- Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes
- Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
- Dune by Frank Herbert
I'm limiting it to ten, or else it would go on potentially forever. It's sort of a shopping list, except I have forbidden myself from purchasing any more books in the next six months. So really it's just a list for me to covet.
I'm trying to catch up on all those books I feel like I was supposed to read but never got around to, mostly because of school. I've resolved to actually read the Lord of the Rings all the way through and I'm currently working on Les Miserables. I'm a whole 300-some pages into it, but Hugo suddenly stopped telling me the story and started narrating the battle of Waterloo to me and I'm a wee bit confused.
I have a job interview coming up. It was supposed to be on last Wednesday, but we had nine inches of snow followed by sleet on Monday and every single street was iced up, so it was put off until Friday, but on Thursday the facility was still inaccessible so it was delayed again until Tuesday. SO I GET LIKE AN ENTIRE EXTRA WEEK TO FREAK OUT OMG YAY
I shoveled snow for the first time in my life! Considering this is Georgia, it was not a skill I ever expected to need, nor did I have adequate tools (like a snow shovel) on hand. It was fun, though!
I am incredibly boring aaaaaaaaaaaa
I don't qualify to be covered by my dad's insurance any more since I graduated from college. Thanks to health care reform, I will be covered again, but not until January. I got temporary coverage for the months in between, but they only offered it for up to six months, which was completed in November. The official plan (discussed with and approved by my parents) is to avoid getting sick or injured in the month of December.
OH HEY IT'S BEEN A WHILE.
Well, what's there to lj about during six months of unemployment? TODAY I GAINED SIX POUNDS AND PLAYED VIDEO GAMES AND TOOK THREE NAPS.
BUT! I am now employed! And it sucks!
And I'm still applying for other jobs! So maybe I'll have two jobs! And if I'm really lucky they might both suck!
Time for tea. It is, in fact, tea time.
I have had, like, a headache a day since last Monday.
Today I drank tea, and I did not get one.
I should not be in caffeine withdrawal. I do not imbibe enough caffeine to withdraw from it.
This makes me angry.
Oh hey, last semester of college woooo.
I was going to be a good student and start reading for my midterms today, but my games were in the mailbox.
I've been playing suikoden for like eight hours now.
My eyes stopped focusing properly a little while ago.
I am going to kill my mother.
Three months until I graduate and we are already fighting over fucking parties. D:
She totally ruined my high school graduation that way too.
I haaaaaaave nothing to say.
I mean, college, homework, sleeping, my cat is annoying. Nothing really new. I haven't felt any extreme emotions in... months! So long I can't remember when it happened last. (Well, I remember Chef dying over a year ago, but surely I must have felt some emotional extremes since then?) So I have no reason to vent about anything at all.
It sounds sort of like I'm depressed, when I think about it quantitatively like that, but I haven't been. Just sort of average.
Oh wait, I've been pissed at my friend a lot lately, but it's sort of a passive anger, 'cause she's being a passive fuckhead. Maybe I'll just get better friends. (oh wait ha ha that requires social skills)
The internet tells me that I am a 'Slightly Dorky Nerd Queen.' That makes it official, it does. I'm not sure how they calculate their Dorky factors though, because the questions weren't real obvious and my awkward score is way too low.
So usually when I'm taking a test, the things I remember best are the things that I just glanced at right before the exam. For finals, I go over everything in depth and then read over it right before the test.
I totally meant to do that today, but it meant being up a couple hours before the exam started (8 am), and I overslept by two hours so I didn't get to review, and I got out of the house late, and then I got stuck behind two really slow school buses, and then I got caught in traffic right outside campus, and I had to drive across campus to park and then hitch a bus back down to south campus, so I came into the exam late, and I spent two straight hours panicking, trembling from Adrenaline, and sweating uncontrollably.
Immediately after that I had to sit down and write a paper (which I'm still working on). Finals sucks.