| For Megan, like I promised |
[14 Jan 2006|12:38am] |
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I haven't gotten fully settled in yet, but I'm going back home this weekend for a dentist appointment and MLK day. Classes seem like they'll go well, even though the more I think about it, the more I worry that I won't be able to graduate in four years. I also seem to be falling asleep more often. I don't have much to talk about; myself and everything I've been doing has been relatively boring and run-of-the-mill, lately. We'll see how that continues once the stress from the semester sets in.
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[28 Dec 2005|11:09pm] |
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hopeful |
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'Amie'-Damien Rice |
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For the last two weeks, I've been getting very little sleep, and what sleep I have managed to fit in has been plagued with nightmares. At the very least, every other night I wake up in a cold sweat, and have an extremely difficult time reorienting myself; I can't close my eyes because of what I imagine is happening when I'm not looking, and I can't keep them open because I see strange things in the shadows. I'm a very light sleeper in the first place, so even normally, I wake up at least three or four times a night.
At first I just put it out of my mind, because I've been living with my aunt while taking this winter class. There's no light in the room I'm staying in, and my great-grandmother died somewhere in the house, so I imagined nightmares should be taken with a grain of salt. I'm still having them here at home, though, so I don't know what to attribute it to. Maybe not being busy enough.
Anyway, I took a sleeping pill about half an hour ago, so I hope this will do the trick. I can already feel a difference, and considering how sensitive I am to medicine, I'm glad I didn't take two (the recommended dose). We don't want to repeat the infamous nighttime benadryl episode, now, do we? Here's hoping for just one decent night of sleep.
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[17 Dec 2005|11:48pm] |
I'm home from school, briefly, before I go back for my winter class. It's nice to be home for a while, even if I've spent most of it asleep or out sneaking smirnoff ice into movie theatres.
My mom lost her job, or will have, come February. They closed down her office, and don't have overflow positions for anyone there. I don't think she knows what she's going to do yet, but I think she's thinking about going back to work at Norton's Hospital, which means about an hour's commute both ways and working twelve-hour shifts. Things are going to be a lot tighter, I think, so it's a good thing I found cheapesttextbooks.com, because god knows I'm not going to be able to spend another six hundred dollars on books this next semester.
I'm also able to make up my French final, which is wonderful. I should start studying a lot more than I am, but since the semester is officially over, it's hard to get back into that mindset. I'll be getting back into it whether I want to or not, however, for this winter course. Brad did the math, and I'm actually taking more hours in five days than I would in a regular class over an entire semester; normally, I'd be in class for three hours a week for sixteen weeks (48 hours), but over the winter, I'm in class five hours a day for ten days (50 hours). I hope I don't miss that final, too.
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| End of the first semester |
[15 Dec 2005|06:26pm] |
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mood |
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depressed and disappointed |
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Up until today, I had been enjoying college immensely. Not just college itself, but the whole general experience. And not to sound melodramatic or anything, but today has turned into--no lie--one of the worst days ever.
I finished my two ten-page papers this morning, and got them turned in on time, no problem. I had already turned in the other fourteen pages, so no problem there, either. I had a final in African Art at five-thirty, and a final in French at eight-thirty.
When I started to study for french, I noticed that on one page, I had it written down (and mentally noted) that the final was thursday, but on another page, I had it as wednesday. I immediately, of course, started to worry, and called a girl in my french class. She was all like, "yeah, it was last night. We tried to call you, but all we got was your voicemail." Last night, my phone was dead. So, of course, I started to panic, because my grade in the class was riding on the final, but several phone calls, one pitiful e-mail, and one call to the head of the french department later, and I'm still shit outta luck. The head of the department said it was up to my teacher, and not only could I not get ahold of her, she has a strict no-makeup policy.
Unfortunately, it only got worse from there. I was understandably a little depressed, and I thought maybe selling my books would be a good idea, since I needed the money. I didn't sell the textbooks yet, because I still needed them to study with, but I sold the little accompanying texts, and got a grand total of thirty-two dollars for them. This semester, I spent over six-hundred dollars on books and supplies.
So, I studied for a little while longer, and then went to go take my African Art test. I got to the building, and no one was there. I waited half an hour, called the teacher, went to her office, and sent another pitiful e-mail. Then I went to David's house and cried a little.
Now I don't know what to do. I should hopefully still have a low A in African Art, and if I'm very, very lucky, maybe a low B in French. I'm not optimistic, though. I need a 3.5 to keep my scholarship, and before today, I was counting on all A's. I don't know what to do except sit around and feel sorry for myself the rest of the evening.
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[23 Nov 2005|03:27pm] |
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I'm leaving in about five minutes for an awkward weekend with awkward family; I do, however, have corn pudding and 'Hero with a Thousand Faces' to comfort me, so all will be well. I hope things will be relatively quiet for a few days, and since I won't have a computer for the most part, it'll be much harder for me to get distracted. Maybe I'll work on some papers? Most likely not, but in any case, happy Thanksgiving. This is the first year I've ever really felt the spirit of gratefulness, which is making the holiday much nicer overall.
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| happiness is a warm gun |
[17 Nov 2005|04:49pm] |
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Write ten things that make you happy, in no particular order and tag five others, in no particular order.
1. Russian Blue kittens
2. Contemplating and adding to the ten-year plan
3. Warm weather before a storm
4. Having a piece of art--whether it be a painting or a story--turn out exactly how I wanted it to
5. Brainstorming plot ideas and characters with Megan
6. Sleeping naked with someone else
7. Smirnoff Ice with dinner and chocolate fountains (not necessarily in tandem)
8. Sometimes crying a little from a good book or song and not telling anyone
9. Both giving and recieving gifts 'just because'
10. Being pleasantly surprised by other peoples' character
And, of course, the obligatory eleven, which is my two favorite people in the world, Megan Stanton and David King. I had to fit it in, but I think it goes without saying that people you love make you happy, yes?
Anyway, TAG ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) it_self, zuph, bionicfemme, skadi, and fillintheblank (that means you all are special!).
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[16 Nov 2005|11:56am] |
I just keep thinking, oh my god, this weekend is the first Harry Potter movie that doesn't look like shit, and OH MY GOD, Murder by Death on Saturday! Oh my god!
Also, because I was being responsible and preparing for the storms that somehow never materialized last night, I unplugged everything in my room before I left so as not to 'get a surge,' as my mother calls it. Unfortunately, I failed to realize that this also included my refridgerator, so, upon my return this morning, my room smells strongly of unrefrigerated pasteurized apple cider. It's not a particularly good smell. Luckily, all I had in there was half of an uneaten sandwich, a few cans of tuna, and the aforementioned cider (which was probably bad anyway; it was well over two months old), but still. I guess I'll know better next time, and I guess I'll eat cafeteria food until then.
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[14 Nov 2005|05:11pm] |
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music |
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'Cannonball'-Damien Rice |
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After my hard drive died a while back, I had to buy a new one, but unfortunately, I had no operating system disks (i.e., Windows, the only thing I've ever used) to install, and I certainly wasn't going to go out and buy one. In lieu of something I understood, David installed Linux on my computer, which has left me with the knowledge to type papers and get online, and not much else. Eventually, I'll almost certainly be forced to get Windows again, but in the meantime, my desktop at least looks pretty.
( screenshot )
Also, I'm trying to look into keyboard designs other than QWERTY, but I imagine that would probably fuck me up every time I tried to type on a computer other than my own. Also, I don't have the discipline to repeat seventh-grade typing classes on my own time, but we'll see what happens.
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[11 Nov 2005|08:25am] |
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In roughly seven hours, my dearest darling Megan Stanton will be here in Lexington, and then I will never let her return to Louisville ever again. I'll let you know how the coming weekend of non-stop partying goes.
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| What? Su-Yeon is dead! |
[05 Nov 2005|03:22pm] |
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mood |
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never enough sleep |
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Last night, I played nerf war on the top floor of the architecture building until midnight. We split into groups and climbed through the studio spaces, and had to watch out for the three-thousand dollar model built right into the middle of the floor. To end the night, we played last man standing, which was where each team sent out a member to face off with a member of the opposite team; if you got hit, you died, but the winner faced off against the next person. I won both times with just a single shot, which was likely just dumb luck, but it made me feel pretty good for a while.
Afterwards, Cody, Steven, David, (for a short time) Brian, and I watched this scary Korean movie called A Tale of Two Sisters, which scared the shit out of me a few times, and was extremely well-made. One of the scariest parts was a scene where the ghost opens the door to one of the little girl's room while she's sleeping and creeps in and takes off her covers.
Imagine that I still have this in mind this morning. Around eleven or so, I hear the outside door to David's apartment complex open, which wakes me up. I assumed that his roommate and her boyfriend were home, so I was watching the door to his apartment (which you can see from bed) sort of half-heartedly to see them come in. It wasn't their voices in the hall, though, so I closed my eyes again. A second later, though, I heard David's door start to make noise, and it swung open but no one was there. That door was locked last night; I made sure. It scared the shit out of me; I woke David up and made him go close it. Then I hid under the covers and slept until three.
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| April is the cruelest month |
[02 Nov 2005|08:24pm] |
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mood |
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methodical |
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music |
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'Tonight, Tonight'-West Side Story |
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I registered for spring courses today, after spending a goodly amount of time juggling times and trying to rearrange everything around the English class, which was only offered at one time. Afterwards, I was forced to attend an hour-long session on suicide prevention, but I digress. My courses, even though a lot of them don't go towards my majors and are only there to fill some sort of college requirement, are pretty awesome. I'm taking nineteen hours of them, so they'd better be.
Honors 102: Medieval/Renaissance Worlds
MWF, 10-10:50
I've become used to my honors class being the sort of course where, when I debate whether I should do the work for it or not, I generally end up sitting around in my underwear and eating saltines instead of reading. Hopefully, next semester will follow suite.
English 233: Literature and Identities
MWF, 11-11:50
This class gave me more trouble than it'll probably be worth. It was only offered at one time, so I had to rearrange my entire schedule around it, and knowing my luck, it'll just end up being a study on how the working class in rural 1930's Appalachia were impacted by their surroundings in literature.
French 201: Intermediate French
MWF, 1-1:50
Someday, I'm planning on going to France, and when I do, I'm sure I'll think: 'god, I'm so glad I spent all that time in college learning to say "when I was young, I believed in the Easter bunny (Quand j'etais petite, je cru en le lapin de Paques)."
Entomology 110: Intro to Insect Biology
TR, 9:30-10:45
I have to take four natural science classes, and I've always been a fan of bugs, so this seemed like the best option. Surely insects can't be much more complex than the whole 'head, abdomen, thorax' and six legs thing? Maybe we'll spend a lot of time on the ladybugs that have been swarming the campus en masse recently.
Art History 106: Renaissance through Modern Art
TR, 12:30-1:45
After this, no more art history (at the lower level, anyway) ever again! There's a point where dissecting a piece of art turns it into more of a science than a visceral experience, and there's also a point where I just am very, very bad with dates.
Women's Studies 200: Intro to Women's Studies
TR, 2-3:15
Angry feminist class! I'm sure we'll read a lot of Andrea Dworkin and learn about how marriage is essentially legalized slavery, and I'll get in trouble and fail for making jokes about women and stoves. It fulfills my sociology requirement, and I'm always up for a class that makes me feel like I'm entitled to things just for existing. Seriously though, this is the class I'm most excited about.
Art 191: Art Professions
F, 12-12:50
Official nap class. I have to take, what, seven of these to graduate with a BFA? Fifty percent of the grade is attendance, which says a lot about the kind of strenuous work I put into it. The only bad thing about it is that it means on fridays I'll be in class continuously from ten 'till two.
I'm also taking a winter course in introductory logic, which, once I appeal my standing in Statistics, should fulfill my logic requirement. I'm going to hate taking it from ten in the morning until three in the afternoon over winter break, but I think I'd hate it more taking it for an entire semester. I'm starting to get sick of the classes I have now, but at least the semester is about three-fourths over. Anyway, time to finish tonight's French homework (food terms!) and write a paper about how Aeschylus uses plant imagery in 'The Oresteia' to convey the progression of lawlessness to justice in ancient greek society.
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[24 Oct 2005|05:29pm] |
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mood |
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in danger of brain rot |
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They just turned me away at the health clinic because I didn't have the EIGHTY-EIGHT FUCKING DOLLARS it costs to get a meningitis shot. Isn't that why I pay student health insurance?
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[23 Oct 2005|06:58pm] |
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Dear Rubber Johnny, please stop freaking me the hell out and giving me nightmares.
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| I think I once learned a version that combined the two.... |
[18 Oct 2005|11:35pm] |
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music |
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'A Baby for Pree'-Neutral Milk Hotel |
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but I couldn't remember it, and it's been bugging me since four or so this afternoon. Anyway, what with the spirit of Halloween in the air (meaning, of course, Octoberfest this evening, where they had caramel apples and hot cider and a chocolate fountain, and both David and Cody won cakes in the cakewalk), I thought it was date-appropriate, if nothing else.
Don't ever laugh as a hearse goes by,
For you may be the next to die.
They wrap you up in a big white sheet,
And cover you up from your head to your feet.
They put you in a big black box,
And cover you up with dirt and rocks.
All goes well for about a week,
And then your coffin begins to leak.
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
The worms play pinochle on your snout.
They eat your eyes, they eat your nose,
They eat the jelly between your toes.
A big green worm with rolling eyes,
Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes.
Your stomach turns a slimy green,
And pus pours out like whipping cream.
You spread it out on a slice of bread,
And that's what you eat when you are dead.
OR
Did you ever think
As the hearse rolls by,
That sooner or later
You're goin' to die,
With your boots a-swingin'
From the back of a roan,
And the undertaking
Inscribin' your stone?
The men with shovels
All stand around
They shovel you in
To that cold, wet ground
They shovel in dirt
Then they throw in rocks
They don't give a hoot
If they break the box.
Oh, the worms crawl in,
And the worms crawl out,
They give a little squirm
And they turn about;
Then each one takes
A bite or two
Of an arm or a leg
Or another part of you!
Oh, your eyes drop out,
And your teeth fall in,
And the worms crawl over
Your mouth and chin;
They bring all their friends,
And their friends' friends, too,
And you're chewed all to bits
When they're through with you!
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[10 Oct 2005|12:36pm] |
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This morning, as I was leaving to go to class, I threw up all over the road, and then I threw up all over the sidewalk, and then I threw up in the mulch. I don't feel sick at all; I blame the birth control, since I just started it last night, and when I got it, they warned me it might make me sick. I didn't think it would make me look like I'd spent the night drinking myself into a sick stupor, however.
The weather is brutally cold, and it's sprinkling on and off, and I got a C+ on my first English paper, and I found out just this morning that I have two four-page papers and a seven-page paper all due within the next week in the same class. I have a french test that spans today and tomorrow that I haven't studied for, and my coffee pot is growing mold, and I had a conference with my honors teacher where he told me I needed to change my entire thesis. I think it's safe to say that I'm going to resign this day as a bad one, get as much homework done as I can, and then sleep until I wake up in a (hopefully) better set of circumstances.
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[05 Oct 2005|08:35am] |
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The night before last, I passed on fooling around because I had a big test in African Art the next day, so effectively, I am the biggest loser on the planet. The test was yesterday, and I think I did reasonably well on it, to which I reply: I'd BETTER have, bitch.
I'm coming home thursday night and not bringing my laptop, in order to get as much homework and/or pleasure reading done over our delightful three-day fall break. It sounds far too philosophical and cliched, but I don't really feel like I have a 'home' anymore. I sort of consider the house in LaGrange my home, and I sort of consider David's apartment my home, and I sort of consider my dorm room my home, but at the same time, none of them. Maybe that just means I have three homes instead of one. In any case, this is the first time I've 'officially' been back, other than last weekend, when I snuck back for Megan/Brad/Kelly/St. James time, and it'll almost certainly be the last time I'm back until Thanksgiving. Thank god everyone there is still in school, so I can sleep in on friday. Other than that, I'll probably be a hermit, and spend far too much time worrying about hiding my tattoo from my mother.
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[28 Sep 2005|06:32am] |
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mood |
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caffeinated, but still tired |
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I just pulled my first all-nighter, which was largely fueled by an overwhelming amount of caffeine (coffee, soda, chocolate-covered espresso beans, and pot upon pot of bitter tea) and my new-found terror of failing an English class. Technically, the seven-page paper I just wrote (all in one go, mind you) isn't due until friday, but if I turn it in today, my professor can edit it and give it back to me, hopefully with enough corrections that I should be able to manage an A. Hopefully. In any case, it's time for more tea; I think I'll nap during my lunch break and skip yoga tonight in favor of an early bedtime, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
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[26 Sep 2005|08:15pm] |
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OH MY GOD I FAILED AN ENGLISH TEST. It's all like, 'when was Keats' most prolific year?' and I'm all like, 'hell if I know!' And it's all like, 'what year was the Peterloo massacre?' and I was all like, 'bitch, please, I don't even know what that is,' and then it's all like, 'define an endjambe' and I'm all like, 'whatev, I'm just going to skip to the essay section since I don't understand poetic devices.'
So the moral of the story is, I write a mean essay on creation/sex poetry, as well as the context of the supernatural as pertains to the gender roles of women during the Romantic era, but fuck if I understand the actual main points of my major.
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[25 Sep 2005|09:58pm] |
1. Reply with your name and I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.
3. I'll pick a flavor of jello to wrestle with you in.
4. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me.
5. I'll tell you my first memory of you.
6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.
8. If I do this for you, you must post this on your journal. You MUST. It is written.
I got suckered in by that all-caps 'must' at the end. Plus, I'm trying to see how long I can procrastinate on studying for my English test on romantic ideals. Oh, wait, FOREVER.
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| Are you telling me that Wyoming gets the T-Rex, and we just get a glorified shellfish? |
[25 Sep 2005|09:12pm] |
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After getting three hours of whisky-induced sleep, I played the part of a good girlfriend this morning and went with David to his shao-lin testing, where it was irrevocably demonstrated that, based on the two people I like the best (Megan and David), I choose friends who are 1) chronically late, 2) far better at driving and understanding directions than I, and 3) fucking terrifying at their martial art/sport of choice. I was impressed out of my mind when I saw Megan fence, but David scared the bejeezus out of me. I don't think the flexibility I'm getting from yoga is going to help me much if we ever get into a epic fight.
In any case, after the test (he went from a yellow to a blue belt), we went to a chinese place with everyone else from his class, including this guy who's studying to be a paleontologist. It was probably the most exciting thing ever for me to talk to him, because I've never met anyone else who was able to carry on an intelligent conversation about dinosaurs with me. He even knew the state fossil of kentucky! It made me nostaligic for the good old days (AKA, birth to roughly sixth/seventh grade) when my only dream in life was to be a paleontologist. I'm sure for the next few days, I'll be doodling dinosaurs all over everything.
When we got back to David's apartment, we took an inadvertant five-hour nap, and I only got up because of English homework. I think I'll sleep well tonight, and maybe I'll dream about dinosaurs or something.
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