Life Sucks. I Quit.

I am utterly miserable. It’s the night before my 23rd birthday and I’m trying to get homework done. I know by now that I will not get the straight A’s I need in order to get into grad school, and this is horribly depressing.

LIFE SUCKS. I QUIT.

Heroes

Heroes season premiere tonight.  Right now! You come from America.  You know Britney Spears.  

The Department of Panic

Later today or possibly some time in the distant future, I will have updates from THE DEPARTMENT OF PANIC.

I can’t get ya’ll in the loop quite yet because Josh is in the other room making up some Shrek mac&cheese. I kid you not, the cartoon-shaped mac&cheeses are the best. Their little faces just hold the cheese better. How creepy is that?

Also in tomorrow’s thing should be a list of my shows, both the out-of-shooting ones and the new ones. You’ll be amazed at how much TV I would like to watch if I thought I was going to live forever.

Happiness is old TV shows. Not old in the sense that the youngest jackass from PR, who was recently booted, thought that one of the Olsen brats was a “style icon,” but old in the sense my dad had probably just learned multiplication when they were new. Black and white, light and fluffy stories, archetypal characters with no real depth, cute orchestral music. These are the things of bliss. I Dream of Jeannie and Bewitched are now on WGN 10 pm Sunday. Well, they’re on this Sunday at least.

Also, for grad school, Ball State is looking good because 1) they are one of very, very few schools that offer any financial aid opportunities for non-PhD students and 2) they have Elizabeth Riddle, who, upon a cursory CV examination appears to share my interests and fascinations.

Big Weekend

Well, yesterday wasn’t a total bust. We did get around 40 people to come over a 3 hour period. I got a really , REALLY cute picture of an 8 month old playing with our stuff, which will look great in the binder going to our funders.

Also, since I’m in a good mood, I’ve decided (for the zillionth time) that my idea of me being fat is an old idea, a useless and untrue one that does nothing good for me or anyone around me, so it’s time to let go of it. I’m 5′3 and weigh around 120 lb most of the time, so I’m not that big. What am I talking about? There’s no need to justify the idea. I’m letting go.

Last night we rented The Bucket List, which turned out to be a pretty good movie that Josh smiled most of the way through.

I donated a dollar to charity a few minutes ago. $1 to help a 13 year old kid get a new heart. It’s all I can afford. The rest of my dollars have to to toward the Help Me Not Be Starving And Homeless fund.

Found out yesterday that by Iowa law a full-time employee (maybe only state employees, maybe all employees in teh state, idk) have to make at least $24k a year. This is awesome since did the math and found out that I really only need around $10k to be ok. YAY

The world was created so you would one day take off your pants

Float, Float, Floating

I’m letting go.  I’m floating free on a cloud of easy-going easiness.  

A professor today mentioned in class that this semester is the most uptight group of students he’s had in a long time. I wonder if this is related to the email I sent him last night asking about the stupid clerk thing.  I don’t think so though, because that email was only two or three sentences and didn’t really say enough to convey any kind of emotion, including uptightness.  

I later got an email from another professor, the final in a fairly long exchange with him.  He called me paranoid, and I know he was right on track. I knew I was being paranoid when I emailed him asking if he had meant to imply that I was failing.  That’s how I had read his penultimate email of the exchange, where he said I just need to write a kickass research paper and it would be ok.  I took this to mean that I had failed al the other weekly lameass assignments and spun out from there.  I was being totally paranoid.  He hasn’t even graded the last one yet. Laaaame.

So here I am, floating along on my cloud. A big, poofy, fluffy, white cloud with a supple silver lining.  When I get tired of sitting on the cloud, I move inside it to the silver lining where everything that I knew would be ok actually is perfectly fine and has ended perfectly.  

Flying away below me are all the things I’ve been clinging to that have put me on my cloud today.  The little things that have added up to a monumental breakdown in the first 6 weeks of the semester.  The last semester.  The final opportunity to leave this place with some respect for myself.  And I’m breathing again, because it’s about fucking time I start breathing again, in normal, even, useful breaths that have a purpose higher than freakout.  I am not the Hindenberg and I have to keep reminding myself.

Because I’m floating, floating, floating…

will updated on trip home later. right now am very tired and busy

Furthermore, does humor require a point of view or an opinion?  Is there a difference? 

A book is written because the author has something to share with the world.  It could be wisdom, knowledge, experience…do I have that?

 only a life with meaning is worthy of rest 

Anonymous?  I think I might be. Does this mean I have more freedom?  I think it could.  this give me a couple options:  I can be total bitch because I can get away with it, but I wouldn’t really be getting away with it:  my conscience would whither and my heart would blacken (to be melodramatic), or I can let my freak flag flie