i can see for miles and miles
05.24.04 @ 11:26 p.m.
My mind has been poisoned. Poisoned. By my folklore class, which sucks, because it's my favoritest of all classes this term. It was not something my teacher did, or that anyone did. A grad student, a less-attractive-but-more-charming-than-I-thought grad student gave a presentation on Zines (again!) but not science fiction-based fanzines, but rather the punk-based music and lifestyle zines. Which was pretty generally awesome. DIY issue two looked extremely intriguing--I skimmed the article on shoplifting and the one of self-tattooing. (You know, the safety pin variety. The ultimate here would be a self-tattoo of a safety pin, of course.) (Actually, right now I'm willing to think that any sort of tattoo of a safety pin, especially a plain line drawing, would be fucking awesome.) But anyway, I was looking through an Elvis fanzine and there was a pretty hideous poem. Well, it might have been alright, mechanically. I don't really remember. I think I'll decline from discussing the subject matter, but it was icky.
Today the ad for the house ran in the Emerald for the first time. They're expensive, perhaps too expensive, but the result is that I've already gotten one call from a pair of girls looking for a place to live come September. To get this whole issue settled quickly would be an absolute dream. I'll amend that: settled quickly and settled well.
It surprised me how happy I was to go shopping with Ena and Bonnie today. Not girly shopping, though. We went to WinCo and actually separated almost immediately. I was just so thrilled A) to be able to buy things I wouldn't want to carry, like a big jug of detergent and a case of Fresca and B) to be paying so little for everything. I [heart] WinCo and see why my dad shops there so often. Only downside: No debit or credit cards. Checks and cash only. Still, that is definitely where I'll shop when I have my car next year. So deliciously cheap! (Hey, I have no money. I'll take joy where I can.)
I wore my big, dangly electric guitar earrings today. They get caught in my hair a lot, but I don't care, they look very pretty on me.
I'm disappointed to discover that I don't have the first volume of my first fiction work of any length. And yet I'm not disappointed, because it's so badly written. Seriously, I cringe to read it, and yet I would have liked to go back and figure out the serious angst I put the protagonist of Propinquity through. She had a pretty horrible boyfriend, but I can't remember his name. That sentence became a lie as I was writing it, because I just remembered. I do have volume 2, however, and read what little of that is written. It's still badly written, but charming enough. This is all because I'm feeling compelled to write "ICRY" out on paper (and "Sea & Sand"). Ah, nostalgia. Seriously, it's driving me a little crazy to be realizing that all my creative outlets are drying up. Haven't played guitar in a while, not seriously, anyway. Haven't drawn anything since Robert Johnson. I wrote about a page of the newest incarnation of "ICRY" (now featuring the song "I Can See For Miles", hurr) while I was supposed to be working on my midterm last night. I was up so late last night because I just couldn't focus (not even with caffine, which usually allows me to concentrate) and ended up waking up at 6 to finish the damn thing off.
And now I want to finish Propinquity (it moves from quotes to italics when you fill a whole composition book and move on to a second one, even with large sections crossed out and rewritten)! I don't even know where I meant to go with P. In fact, I would have completely forgotten my eventual plot plans if there weren't a little note in the margin. Tempting!
Also, I'm feeling tempted to watch Nesmithy things again. What's the appropriateness level of watching "Monkees on the Line" at midnight, I wonder? Probably low, since it would be inconsiderate to be giggling like mad every time Mike says "Ellen Farnsby" as I revert to a 16 year old girl.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
