Do I Have To?

Hey, Fitz. How ya doin'? Oh, you hate my paper, too? Yeah, so do I.

Burn the Essays!

I really love analyzing literary works. I just hate writing essays about them.

I really hate reworking my essays, because nothing ever sounds good when I'm writing "professionally" and want to describe my ideas on paper. And I hate reading my own work. Once it's on paper, I never want to see it again. I'm quite willing to burn it.

I wish I could burn this one. It's due on Monday, and I'm supposed to have a draft done by...well, it was actually supposed to be for last night. But, of course, I got on the computer and wasted my entire day by not actually working on it.

So now I'm scrambling to rework it when I still have no clear idea of what I want to say, and nothing seems coherent, and I wish I didn't have to worry so much about not writing in first person and just spill it on the page like I was supposed to the first time, but kinda half-jobbed that, too. And I have a bajillion books to read, and a bajillion and one other essays that are going to be due soon, and my brain is about to blow.

So here's my proposal - I quit school and become a hermit living in a library. I could work there, I could eat at the cafe there, who needs to be anywhere else? Or I could just save up all my horrendous drafts and BURN them all at the end of the semester! (Ooh, that sounded a bit Azula-ish, didn't it?)

Poor Fitz lost the battle last night. I was going to pull an all-nighter, but finally conked out at 2:30.

Submissions

Nervous, nervous, nervous.

That submit button is there, right there. I should press it. It's due, like, now. I can't procrastinate this any longer.

Push the button!

(Anyone thinking 'Pull the lever, Kronk!'?)

Pushing the button. Simultaneously praying that my piece is good enough to get accepted. Divine intervention would be welcomed.

Sleep Dep, Anyone?

Yes, Fitz, I know that I've been sleeping in, which has given you less time with me. In retaliation, you have been making me stay up later and later. Doesn't that mean I'll just start sleeping in more and more in the mornings?

It seems to me that there could be a better way to do this.

中国新年快乐！

In all of the excitement of imploding zombie-ready brains, I forgot that today was the Chinese New Year!

(Which is a really bad thing to forget, considering my roommate is cooking up a delicious Veggie Chinese New Year feast tonight, in which one of my cucumbers gets to take part.)

We now welcome the Year of the Dragon!

Dead Brain

I've only been through Music 171 (Basic Musicianship (DEADLY THEORY)) and Eng 356 (YA Literature) and my brain is already blown.

Transplants, anyone?

Tumblr

There are a ton of things that I draw digitally these days. Unfortunately, not a lot of people get to see them because they aren't ever "finished" enough for dA (Deviant Art).

I've been considering getting a Tumblr to share such sketchy messes that may or may not ever be finished.

If you guys are interested in following my Tumblr (which has yet to be made), then I'll be sure to post the information for it here.

But you have to let me know if you're interested. Comment, or poll.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

I'm bringin' baldness back
Them other nations don't know how to act
(Yeah)

Sherlock. Again.

I'm still moping.

Probably the Most Serious Post I Ever Want to Post

But it needs to be written.

Last night I dreamed about my Granny (my grandmother on my father's side). She died when I was eight or nine from a brain tumor. She was living with us when she died. That young, I knew that cancer was bad, but I didn't know that it killed people. I didn't realize my grandmother was dying. And then she did. My parents sent my brother and I to spend the night with our other grandmother. All we knew was that we were having a sleepover at Grandma's, and that I couldn't go back to my house to get my stuffed rabbit that I'd forgotten. She died that night.

Last night I dreamed that we were at her house. She was spoiling my siblings and me like crazy (like she always did) and Ben Kingsley was my grandfather (mildly understandable. I've been obsessing over him since "Hugo"). But in my dream, the most important part, was that I got to hug my Granny, and to tell her how much I loved her.

It may sound a bit silly, but I think she had a hand in sending me that dream. I think that, somehow, she got my hug, and that I got one from her. I think that she really was there, that it wasn't just some psychological manipulation by the firing neurons in my brain. It's kinda funny, because I haven't thought about her for a while.

Now I can eat (because everyone knows that if you eat before you tell someone your dream, it won't come true).

A Post of Boredom

I really have nothing to say.

I'm still moping about Sherlock (mostly because a certain someone keeps sending me stuff that sends me on an all-out Sherlock moping trip).

I'm deciding to rewrite a piece for the NULC (National Undergraduate Literature Conference). It's due in five days, so I think this weekend will be a writing-palooza for me. Any editors would be greatly appreciated (comment to volunteer) because my work, as of now, is pretty atrocious. Good beginning, suckish ending, and I could use all the help I could get.

This post is more of a call-to-arms than a post of boredom, isn't it?

Reichenbach Falls

I'm still moping.

Why, Sherlock? WHY?

I love you, John. Keep your chin up!

Mo, how are you going to come back from that? Because you have to?

I've been replaying this, reliving my misery: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQyHopjOhGc&feature=related

I keep crying.

I learned not to wear mascara when Sherlock is involved.

The Invention of Hugo Cabret

I finally read it! I love it! "Hugo" is in the cheap-o theaters here. I really want to go see it again.

I'm Finally Happy with Fitz

I've heard that you guys can access my blog just fine.

I can't.

This is so weird! My internet is kinda funky up here. I can't get on Yahoo! and I can't get on the main page of this blog...but I can access any other blog just fine. Just not this one. I guess it's because it's my homepage. The internet service's homepage is jealous.

So if I don't update consistently, that's why. It's such a hassle to get to my blog in the first place, some days I just don't feel up to it.

In other news, Fitz and I are getting along splendidly. He lets me get to sleep early (if you consider midnight early), and I give him my mornings (which start between 9:00-9:30 am on sleepy days, 7:30 on any other day). We're both very content.

A Soap Opera Would Be Proud

Fitz and I have spent a lovely break together. He keeps me up until 2 am, and I get to sleep in until 11. I quite like this arrangement.

(Cue overdramatic lighting. Also cue quite dramatic voice)
Now the time has come for him to let me go! I travel on to lands untraveled by intellectual man! I travel on to snowy blizzards and needs for those expensive winter coats! I travel to the land of scarf connoisseurs and suckish Wal-Marts!

I travel without sleep, without companionship, and without snackage! I brave to lengths of space and time zone changes! All for the sake of improving the mind!

So if you're in good ol' Rexxy, let me know. Seriously.

In Which My Mother Turns Me Into A Pre-Packer

For those of you who were readers of my last blog, you probably remember my Panic-Packing-Cycle. Here's a recap anyway:


1. Tell yourself you have a whole day, and that's plenty of time, so don't worry about rushing the packing.
2. Watch a few movies. Or TV. Or read a book. Or play with your cat. Or surf the net. In other words, Procrastinate.
3. Start to think about packing around dinner.
4. Start packing after the kids go to bed and realize you had more to pack than you originally thought.
5. Realize that room in your bag is running out.
6. Panic.
7. Stay up until it's time to go packing. Finish the packing process by the skin of your teeth.
8. Enjoy a well-packed trip!


This is my normal packing habit. I finally accepted my procrastinating packing tendencies, and then what happens! My mother, of all people, turns me into a pre-packer! I don't leave until tomorrow and, with the exception of my clothes that just got done drying, I'm packed. Pretty much completely packed. Sure, I need to zip in my toothbrush and my lipstick, but other than that I'm packed!


Now what am I supposed to do?

'More' Resolutions

I don't really consider these resolutions. I consider them more of a mantra for this next year. Goals, as it were, to keep me happy in life. Which, conveniently, is resolution #1.

Write more                               (Draw more)
Read more                                (Live more)
Love more                                (Laugh more)