Dear Clio,

Please write my crap for me, because I can't concentrate and don't feel like writing this shit anymore.

Love,
Annabell

you waited almost a week for THIS?

Things that need to suck it:

• the internet
• school.

The internet is down in my apartment again and my nice fabulous neighbor who lets me steal his internet is missing. I am a bit worried, because last time he went missing he was in the hospital detoxing from his anti-anxiety meds (apparently he has really awful panic attacks). So my inconvenience is comparatively small, but that's never stopped me from kvetching before. And the internet cafe by me was inexplicably closed yesterday, so late last night I headed over to NBF's apartment (he is in London, but I have the key and am supposed to make sure it doesn't implode while he's gone) to use his internet, but I forgot he took his mouse with him and that made it more trouble than it was worth, so I crashed there for the night and waddled across the street to the internet cafe by his place this morning before 10 AM. That's right, I did something on a Sunday morning on purpose. It helps that I have two papers and an online test due by tomorrow - I end up too stressed to sleep late. Splendid.

It's been a very long-seeming week, even though nothing particularly happened. I spent much of it writing my parody of Bartleby the Scrivener for my fiction class. Otherwise, I mostly just went to class, wrote other random crap so my head wouldn't explode, and then Friday night I went to open knitting at this yarn store by my school. That was good, forcing me out of my cave and meeting new people and such. Good for me. I deserve a cookie.

My sister called me last night to ask what she should do about my cousins' dog who just ate chocolate while she was babysitting them. Fortunately it was only a little chocolate and the dog was fine, but this was after she herself went to the emergency room earlier that day to get 12 stitches in her finger she sliced instead of an avocado. Earlier in the week, American Airlines canceled her flight and then lost her luggage for 5 days while she had to keep buying underwear and borrowing clothes.

I saw an infomercial for the Tattoo Factory and now I want one, and though I don't actually think I'll get one, if I did, I would want this artist.

I am very addicted to coffee again.

Enough procrastinating. I need to be writing these papers. They're only 3-6 pages long, but one requires research that I know must exist but I'm not finding. Want to write it for me?

Bonkers

Last night I went out to Tru with my family for a combination of Mother's Day, Father's Day, and my siblings' graduations. I had a stressful time getting there (thank you motherfuckingCTA, rain, bad shoes, and my own frazzledness causing me to wander in circles for 15 minutes within two blocks of the restaurant), then ate too much fabulous food and drank too much fabulous champagne and wine. As a result, I spent today completely zonked out with a weird dizzy migraine. Around midnight I was functional enough to go get some iced coffee, and now I'm trying desperately to write my stupid paper for my stupid civil rights class. It doesn't have to be good or very long, but it's been four years since I've written an academic paper and I'm very slow and out of practice. It is due tomorrow (now technically today). Due by class time (1 PM) on Tuesday is a 30 page draft of my parody of Bartleby the Scrivener. And how many pages do I have of that, you ask? 5! So pulling an all-nighter to work on my stupid class instead of working on the important thing for my major seems completely ridiculous, but I've been working for hours with extremely minimal fucking-around time and I'm only about half way through the information I plan to include in this stupid piece of crap. It doesn't help that I'm still quite woozy (weather? migraine? coffee and drugs took the edge off but not destroy the fog in my head) and incapable of keeping a single thought in my head for any length of time. This is the shit that chased me away from school the first time. I hate this shit. But this time I will actually do it and turn it in instead of running away completely. I have no doubt that I will actually be able to finish the civil rights paper, and then the only things I am doing tomorrow are going to class, going to the gym (I'll have to make it quick), and working on the parody. And however many pages I have of the parody by Tuesday is perfectly acceptable because the final thing isn't due until Thursday and I won't have anything better to do before then. The real reason to have a full draft by Tuesday is to get feedback on it before turning in the final product.

Just. So. Bonkers. I may need to go puke now.

should vs. actually

Things I should have been doing over the past 4 hours:
-writing
-sleeping

Things I actually have been doing over the past 4 hours:
-making cards
-downloading fonts
-WordRacer


Punch me in the face, please.

overheard

A little girl was balled up in her mother's lap crying in a sad, drawn-out wail, "It's hard to be four."
"It is hard to be four," her mother comforted.

I thought that was great.

Grandly Fussy

You know when there's a person you really love but you're spending too much time with him/her and you just need a little space? That's how I'm feeling about myself right now. I'm annoying the hell out of myself and could really use a week's vacation away from me. I am a self-centered co-dependent. I'm a serial monogamist at heart, but I replace the significant other character with a platonic BFF. I am not an easy person to live with, particularly for me.

My brother graduated high school on Sunday. It's an extremely diverse and segregated school. Watching the kids go from alphabetical order into their groups of friends was like watching a fresh deck of cards being shuffled on rewind. I understand the desire to surround yourself with friends who are like you, but your racial/cultural background should just be one of the aspects of who you are. At my high school, it also dictated your interests and aspirations, and that's fucked up. The cheerleaders were all black. The drill team was all blonde (even the ones who weren't by genetics or peroxide had blonde souls). Most of the other official extra-curricular activities were white, except for the specific ethnic groups (i.e. Latin American Student Association). Chorus was mostly white, but there was a gospel choir full of black singers. This shit is stupid. Having a cultural identity is a good thing, but then why the fuck can't we reshuffle ourselves before dividing off into other groups of likes and dislikes. All the writers. All the artists. Split up by favorite color, favorite zoo animal, birthdate, ideal pillow firmness, favorite time of day. Divide by likes and interests instead of skin color. And then let me be selfish/self-centered and go through and find the intelligent, creative, open-minded, sarcastic writer-types and hang out with them. Maybe I'm fooling myself, but I truly believe that we'd have a much easier time finding strong human connections if class and color didn't seep in and separate us out. Fuck JDate, I want CreativepersonDate.

I need to be writing crap for class tomorrow, but I just want to have my temper-tantrum.

pro-histamine

I have a really bad cold. I was going to refrain from bitching about it on here since too much of this blog already is me complaining about my body misbehaving, but tough shit. I keep thinking "I'm sick as a dog," but my dog is not sick. I have no voice. I was way too sick to go to school today and I'm not looking forward to tomorrow since I know I have to at least go down to class long enough for my teacher to be the one to send me home (which, based on the quantity of mucus coming out of me and my crackly man-voice, he might). Someone should make me chicken soup from scratch and dab my face with a warm washcloth while sitting by my bedside with a worried expression.

America's Funniest Home Politics

I would like to be watching the presidential debate right now. Unfortunately, I do not have cable, and it would seem that the networks have deemed America's Funniest Home Videos more important than America's politics.

shhhhhh

Pondering for the night: Secrets. Particularly unnecessary secrets. We all have them, but why? Sometimes we think we're keeping someone from getting hurt. Sometimes things become secrets by accident, like if you don't tell a person something right away and then feel obligated to continue not telling them. My personal favorite of those was when I was in fourth grade and I went to a friend's house and her mom forgot that she had CCD class that day so I ended up going with her to the church and reading in a pew. I wasn't trying not to tell my parents, but they didn't ask me much about how the play-date went. A few days passed and something came up in conversation that made me want to say something about "yeah, when I was at Meghan's church," but it seemed like I couldn't bring it up now having not mentioned it before. Next thing I knew I had this weird little secret.

But my real curiosity for the night is when a person keeps secrets just for the sake of having secrets, like he needs there to be pieces of himself no one knows, even if they're completely mundane. I've noticed one friend of mine tends to do this, with different secrets for different people, and every time he admits some deep dark piece of himself, he ends up getting secretive and weird about truly asinine things, like plans to hang out with other friends.

Ok, so I am guessing at motivation here, but this is my blog and I get to be the narrator and within this little world, what I say goes. So this person's secret-keeping is a habit and a way for him to feel like he's in control.

God I love being the narrator.