So writing this Freud paper has been difficult, but I am powering through it while keeping hold of my sanity. Even though Freud considered himself higher than the rest of earth's population (he claimed to dream in language and not pictures like the rest of us and language is a step up from pictures) I still can't help but have a slight respect for him. Afterall, he did take intimate time out of his life to fully develop his dream interpretation theories which some people completely believe. I do not believe in them - partly because he was a druggie and drugs distort your mind - mostly because I have seen different evidence for the reasoning behind dreams which make more sense. If I were to completely take stock in Freud's theories then where would my second manuscript (see first post for original dream) be right now? Probably not as developed as it is, but on the other hand it could have turned into a story about sleeping with my mother (because to Freud every underlying dream meaning is sexual). But no, I don't choose to follow Freud, thus my dream manuscript is being developed in a rational way which isn't psychotic or hopped up on heroine.
Moving on.
I'm excited that HoN was bumped up to #3 right behind Twilight. P.C. and Kristen Cast definitely deserve that high recommendation as authors, although I personally enjoy Zoey over Bella (my opinion, not yours). Zoey is more like how I strive to be and Bella is nowhere near my personality or what I strive to be. If I could take any of Zoey's traits it would be her leadership ability and strength. I've been told that I am a leader, but if that's true then I don't want the job because it makes me feel so uncomfortable. People don't follow me, they just annoy me. But seeing as how the HoN doesn't really exist (shucks) and no one will be biologically transforming into vampires anytime soon I figure it's best to just get through life the easiest way possible: in the shadows.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Are We Really All That Different?
Sometimes it's easy to forgive someone for hurting you, but other times it's not. What sucks is that if you don't forgive them, it's you that hurts from the anger; they don't hurt. A lot of people don't feel guilty for the wrong they do, but why not? I know I always feel guilty even if I haven't done anything wrong. Maybe it's thanks to the environment I grew up in - sheltered Southern Baptist society where everything was wrong - but maybe it's just the way my brain functions. Will we ever really know why people think the way they do? I'm sure theories point to genetics and our environments, but I think it goes deeper than that. I think a lot different than my parents do and I don't readily accept what society accepts. Of course there are always going to be differences, but just how different is everyone really? On the inside probably completely different, like fingerprints, but when you get down to the basics we are all the same: the need for love and acceptance, the need for companionship ... etc. It seems to me that even though we all want to be "different" than everyone else, to "stand out" from the crowd, we are actually striving to be more like the people around us. Think about it: how many times have you hung around one person for an extended period of time (a best friend, family member, etc.) and ended up taking on one or more of their characteristics? I know I have, but I never noticed it until someone pointed out how I reminded them of the person I was spending so much time with. Subconsciously we all want to be like everyone else.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
A Change in the Times
I am always amazed at how fast things seem to change. One minute I'm still hung up on my long lost boyfriend who left for Iraq without even a goodbye and the next minute I'm falling for a guy I barely know even though he's claimed for months that he's going to marry me (assumptions like that used to ward me off, but this time it's pretty enticing). I'm enjoying this current loop in my rollercoaster of life and am equally anxious to see what station I will end up in. Usually new guys are exciting to me at first but then I move on quickly because I am successful in finding something I don't like about them, but this time is different all around. I've been casually texting him for about a month and I have yet to lose interest or be annoyed. He's kept a perfect distance - sometimes close, but then distant enough for me to miss his presence in my phone - and is also capable of an interesting conversation. Although there is one bad thing about him: he works with my mom. Which is how I met him actually. He called my mom his future mother-in-law until he gave her his number to give to me one day. We've talked ever since, but not until yesterday did I agree to actually go out with him because of the aforementioned retard of an ex. I'm quite happy as to where my social life is headed.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Continued
This is crazy for me to say, but I've actually missed having friends. I am liking having someone to talk to that doesn't live out of the state. Interesting.
Nothing more today because yesterday's post still stands.
Nothing more today because yesterday's post still stands.
Friday, October 24, 2008
No Freakers Ball For Me
I always hear people say, "No one wants to grow up to be a serial killer or a garbage man," but what about people who make bad grades. Do they want to grow up to "make bad grades?" I don't think so, because why would you want to diminish yourself so? I know I don't like to make bad grades. In fact, I've managed to hold my 3.8 until my junior year, but now (thanks to Textual Analysis and Dr. Frank) I might lose everything I have worked for because of one class. Which, by the way, I have to have to take every other higher level class. But hello? Why is a Graduate professor teaching an Undergraduate class? Please someone explain it to me. By personal opinion of most of the class, she expects way too much for only giving us sophomore level credits. This should be a senior class as far as I'm concerned. Seriously though, if I don't connect with Jameson, in what might have to be an intimate way, I am going to get a C out of this class and if I do I will cry. How threatening right? Well it's threatening to my sanity and health. Am I a little over the top about this? Please tell me.
So what really causes my blood to boil is that if I have to reread forty pages of uninterpretable Jameson this weekend (Frank is giving us an in-class rewrite - yes thank you for that - but way hard), then I will have no free time to work on my manuscripts AND it will diminish any chance of a pretend happy face that I would have put on at my niece's birthday party (only pretend because of her annoyingly nosy adoptive father). And by the way, Freakers Ball is on Halloween ... can't go because of Jameson! What a drag.
Okay enough bitching for today ... off to pass a Latin quiz.
So what really causes my blood to boil is that if I have to reread forty pages of uninterpretable Jameson this weekend (Frank is giving us an in-class rewrite - yes thank you for that - but way hard), then I will have no free time to work on my manuscripts AND it will diminish any chance of a pretend happy face that I would have put on at my niece's birthday party (only pretend because of her annoyingly nosy adoptive father). And by the way, Freakers Ball is on Halloween ... can't go because of Jameson! What a drag.
Okay enough bitching for today ... off to pass a Latin quiz.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Perfect Insanity
I felt them as they stepped onto the driveway and made their way up. Marcus was the first to enter and Robert the last with the girls in between. I heard Robert take the effort to shut the front door quietly behind him, probably resisting the urge to tear it off the hinges.
“What are you doing?” Marcus asked me in anger as they all filed into my room.
I looked around the room as if I were confused, even though I knew exactly what he was talking about.
“I’m lying down,” I said.
Sarah laughed for a split second before Marcus glared it out of her.
“What the hell were you doing with a human?” Marcus said.
“What did it look like? I was eating lunch.” I said.
I knew I was being a total bee-atch because I had every clue as to what was going on and why everyone was pissed, but at the same time I was using the attitude as a safe guard. I didn’t want their fangs to come out and go all slasher-movie on me.
“This would be different if your intentions were similar to Sarah’s, but I know they aren’t. The way you looked at him followed by all the blushing confirmed my judgment. You know what happens when the secret is exposed. Is that what you want Andi?” Marcus said, his entire body quivering with rage.
“I’m not going to tell anybody anything about us. Just chill out and let me live my life the way I want to. Is that so hard Marcus? Or are you just so used to controlling everything?” I countered.
I was on my feet now, standing in the middle of the mattress. My fists were clenched at my sides. My temper was rising and I couldn’t bring it down. I hardly ever stood up to Marcus about anything, but this wasn’t just anything. This was my future, my happiness. He didn’t understand and wouldn’t understand. Marcus hated humans and I knew deep down that there was nothing I could do to make him see my side.
“I don’t control everything! I know what’s best for all of us, what’s best for what we are. I can’t believe – “
I stopped listening to Marcus and thought of Robert and how he had been quiet the entire time Marcus was chastising me and how he hadn’t spoken up at lunch; his aura had spoken enough. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I faced Robert and realized he hadn’t moved the entire time either. He continued to lean against the wall, glaring at me in disbelief.
“Hold on Marcus.” I interrupted him. “Robert, say what you need to say.”
Robert took a deep breath, hesitated as if he was deciding whether or not to speak up, and walked toward me and away from the wall.
“I had no idea that when you said you were drawn to him that it meant you were going to do something about it.” He said. His voice would have been quiet to a human and it held a slight portion of annoyance and even more disappointment.
“What? Robert you knew about this?” Marcus said, shocked.
He didn’t answer Marcus, but continued to stare at me, pleading in his voice.
“What about your ‘paradise’? You’re always telling me how you can’t stand being around humans more than necessary. We all know that you wear your earphones for a reason. You’re afraid of what might happen. Don’t you think that putting yourself in this situation with this human that you’re going against all of that?” Robert asked.
“I’m doing away with paradise. After being with Evan today, I’m choosing a future guided by bloodlust. Sure his blood calls to me like it does with any human, but he’s not just any human to me. Marcus, I don’t expect you to understand, but Robert I thought you might. At the very least I didn’t expect you to act like this. We’ve been best friends for a long time. Can’t you just be happy for me?” I said.
Marcus scowled in disgust.
“Marcus,” I turned on him, “If you think you can restore the crucial pieces missing from my brain, because you obviously think I’ve lost my mind, then by all means, go ahead. But I don’t think this is that simple. I feel like I’m going insane when I’m not around him, but I can’t do anything about it. He’s the only remedy.” I said in earnest for them to understand.
Sarah came alive at my words.
“Marcus, Robert, you need to leave. Honestly, I don’t see how this even concerns you. It may not concern me or Kelley either but at least we understand the emotional side.” She said.
Robert looked at Marcus and shook his head, stopping Marcus from acting out any more of his rage.
“I’m eating with him again tomorrow by the way,” I told the guys, “so don’t freak out again when you see us.”
Marcus was already out the door before I had finished. He was still too angry to care about anything I said. Before Robert left he looked back at me one final time, anguish flowing in his eyes. I heard him shut the front door quietly behind him leaving me with feelings of shame and torment.
“Thanks Sarah,” I said.
We all fell onto my bed and Sarah started laughing.
“Dude, what’s so funny? He almost ripped my heart out.” I said raising an eyebrow.
“Did you see Marcus’ face? He was about to flip shit.” Sarah said still laughing.
“I think he was flipping shit. If that’s not flipping shit then I don’t know what is.” I said.
“I don’t think he should have been so hard on you,” Kelley chimed in.
This entire time I had forgotten she was even there. How could she have been so quiet? Surely this was a desperate time which called for opinions.
“What do you think about this entire thing Kelley?” I asked.
“You really want my opinion?” Kelley said.
I propped myself up on my right elbow to look at her and I felt Sarah do the same behind me.
“Yes,” I said.
“I think the guys should be more understanding even though I know they won’t be. Like you told Marcus, it’s your life and you deserve to be happy. If this human makes you happy then pursue that bliss. Don’t let Marcus rule your intentions.” She said.
“I agree,” Sarah said nodding.
I laid back down, arms under my head.
“I do too. It’s not Marcus that gets me, it’s Robert. I don’t want to run him out of my life. He’s always been there for me in the past and I feel as if I owe him something for it and that something is my devoted friendship.” I said.
They nodded in agreement.
“So the thing that was my mind is now gone; where did it go and why?” I said.
“It’s still there, but it’s making room for …” Kelley said in search of a name.
“Evan,” I finished for her.
I sighed. When did my life become this complicated?
“Here,” Sarah said pulling her bag onto her lap. “This will make you feel better.”
She handed Kelley and I each a bag of blood and smiled.
“Mmmm, my favorite,” she said.
I couldn’t help but laughing. If Evan were to see this, what would he think? The three of us sat there chatting about who knows what and sipping our pouches of blood until my mom came home.
“What are you doing?” Marcus asked me in anger as they all filed into my room.
I looked around the room as if I were confused, even though I knew exactly what he was talking about.
“I’m lying down,” I said.
Sarah laughed for a split second before Marcus glared it out of her.
“What the hell were you doing with a human?” Marcus said.
“What did it look like? I was eating lunch.” I said.
I knew I was being a total bee-atch because I had every clue as to what was going on and why everyone was pissed, but at the same time I was using the attitude as a safe guard. I didn’t want their fangs to come out and go all slasher-movie on me.
“This would be different if your intentions were similar to Sarah’s, but I know they aren’t. The way you looked at him followed by all the blushing confirmed my judgment. You know what happens when the secret is exposed. Is that what you want Andi?” Marcus said, his entire body quivering with rage.
“I’m not going to tell anybody anything about us. Just chill out and let me live my life the way I want to. Is that so hard Marcus? Or are you just so used to controlling everything?” I countered.
I was on my feet now, standing in the middle of the mattress. My fists were clenched at my sides. My temper was rising and I couldn’t bring it down. I hardly ever stood up to Marcus about anything, but this wasn’t just anything. This was my future, my happiness. He didn’t understand and wouldn’t understand. Marcus hated humans and I knew deep down that there was nothing I could do to make him see my side.
“I don’t control everything! I know what’s best for all of us, what’s best for what we are. I can’t believe – “
I stopped listening to Marcus and thought of Robert and how he had been quiet the entire time Marcus was chastising me and how he hadn’t spoken up at lunch; his aura had spoken enough. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I faced Robert and realized he hadn’t moved the entire time either. He continued to lean against the wall, glaring at me in disbelief.
“Hold on Marcus.” I interrupted him. “Robert, say what you need to say.”
Robert took a deep breath, hesitated as if he was deciding whether or not to speak up, and walked toward me and away from the wall.
“I had no idea that when you said you were drawn to him that it meant you were going to do something about it.” He said. His voice would have been quiet to a human and it held a slight portion of annoyance and even more disappointment.
“What? Robert you knew about this?” Marcus said, shocked.
He didn’t answer Marcus, but continued to stare at me, pleading in his voice.
“What about your ‘paradise’? You’re always telling me how you can’t stand being around humans more than necessary. We all know that you wear your earphones for a reason. You’re afraid of what might happen. Don’t you think that putting yourself in this situation with this human that you’re going against all of that?” Robert asked.
“I’m doing away with paradise. After being with Evan today, I’m choosing a future guided by bloodlust. Sure his blood calls to me like it does with any human, but he’s not just any human to me. Marcus, I don’t expect you to understand, but Robert I thought you might. At the very least I didn’t expect you to act like this. We’ve been best friends for a long time. Can’t you just be happy for me?” I said.
Marcus scowled in disgust.
“Marcus,” I turned on him, “If you think you can restore the crucial pieces missing from my brain, because you obviously think I’ve lost my mind, then by all means, go ahead. But I don’t think this is that simple. I feel like I’m going insane when I’m not around him, but I can’t do anything about it. He’s the only remedy.” I said in earnest for them to understand.
Sarah came alive at my words.
“Marcus, Robert, you need to leave. Honestly, I don’t see how this even concerns you. It may not concern me or Kelley either but at least we understand the emotional side.” She said.
Robert looked at Marcus and shook his head, stopping Marcus from acting out any more of his rage.
“I’m eating with him again tomorrow by the way,” I told the guys, “so don’t freak out again when you see us.”
Marcus was already out the door before I had finished. He was still too angry to care about anything I said. Before Robert left he looked back at me one final time, anguish flowing in his eyes. I heard him shut the front door quietly behind him leaving me with feelings of shame and torment.
“Thanks Sarah,” I said.
We all fell onto my bed and Sarah started laughing.
“Dude, what’s so funny? He almost ripped my heart out.” I said raising an eyebrow.
“Did you see Marcus’ face? He was about to flip shit.” Sarah said still laughing.
“I think he was flipping shit. If that’s not flipping shit then I don’t know what is.” I said.
“I don’t think he should have been so hard on you,” Kelley chimed in.
This entire time I had forgotten she was even there. How could she have been so quiet? Surely this was a desperate time which called for opinions.
“What do you think about this entire thing Kelley?” I asked.
“You really want my opinion?” Kelley said.
I propped myself up on my right elbow to look at her and I felt Sarah do the same behind me.
“Yes,” I said.
“I think the guys should be more understanding even though I know they won’t be. Like you told Marcus, it’s your life and you deserve to be happy. If this human makes you happy then pursue that bliss. Don’t let Marcus rule your intentions.” She said.
“I agree,” Sarah said nodding.
I laid back down, arms under my head.
“I do too. It’s not Marcus that gets me, it’s Robert. I don’t want to run him out of my life. He’s always been there for me in the past and I feel as if I owe him something for it and that something is my devoted friendship.” I said.
They nodded in agreement.
“So the thing that was my mind is now gone; where did it go and why?” I said.
“It’s still there, but it’s making room for …” Kelley said in search of a name.
“Evan,” I finished for her.
I sighed. When did my life become this complicated?
“Here,” Sarah said pulling her bag onto her lap. “This will make you feel better.”
She handed Kelley and I each a bag of blood and smiled.
“Mmmm, my favorite,” she said.
I couldn’t help but laughing. If Evan were to see this, what would he think? The three of us sat there chatting about who knows what and sipping our pouches of blood until my mom came home.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
The Male Mind
Ever since my first crush I had always wondered what guys were thinking, as I'm sure every girl does. I was recently told by a romantic type of guy that men and women think a lot alike when it comes to emotions. But then I've had a manly guy tell me that he doesn't get butterflies, but when he gets excited his face lights up with a big smile. I guess what it comes down to is that every human experiences emotions differently. I thought it was quite comical as I learned all of this because I had always thought that guys didn't have emotions unless the emotion was anger ... my bad. I guess I've always dated the wrong guys or maybe I just only see the negatives. Maybe it's time for another experiment.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Under the Full Moon
I have been so busy this weekend and I can't even believe I'm taking a time out to make a post. Last night and today I worked practically nonstop on my first book which actually looks as if it might turn into a novel. And to think I was scared of even clearing one hundred pages. Oh I've managed to clear that and I'm about to hit two hundred pages with nine chapters to go. I've written about ninety pages since yesterday evening and I'm still going. I would completely ditch class tomorrow if I didn't feel bad just for thinking of doing such a thing. Besides, I have an exam so I definitely can't miss that.
I could really use someone to read my two hundred page manuscript. None of my friends have volunteered. I don't blame them.
I could really use someone to read my two hundred page manuscript. None of my friends have volunteered. I don't blame them.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Memories and Wishes
I went to see my high school's football team play last night. That outing propelled me to miss the simplicity of it, even though I didn't think it was simple at the time. But really it was. All I had to do was graduate and not get into fights with the stupid preps (another high school problem: labels) for getting DUIs and DWIs and then bragging about it. Lame. But I do find high school boys more appealing than college boys. High school boys don't have as much to worry about unless they blow up the latest drama or sleep with their gf's best friend. I miss everything but that. If my favorite high school bf came back into my life right now ... I'd date him again in a heartbeat, but he doesn't know that (Joel).
Bridal shower today. Made me anxious to get my life in gear, but college is holding me back. Of course it's preparing me for the future but what is it doing for the here and now? Nothing. What a bummer.
Bridal shower today. Made me anxious to get my life in gear, but college is holding me back. Of course it's preparing me for the future but what is it doing for the here and now? Nothing. What a bummer.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Lovely Conspiracies
"The highest expression of love is the experience and realization of more – more of who you are, what you do, what you believe, and what you have." - (Not sure where I got it.)
I completely agree with this statement. Not many people understand how to even love someone/something, yet they claim they do. Love is unconditional and not judgemental or hateful. Love is about peace and companionship, but not heartache. How can we ever claim to have loved a person when that person gave us heartache? Love is joy, not sorrow. Love is everything good in this world and the next, yet this world doesn't view it as such. When love is experienced with malice and tears, it isn't really love. What happens to our souls when we are wrongfully loved, when we are loved with regret and pressure? It isn't really love, but the world says it is because you'll make up and everything will be just great. But in the deepest folds of your mind, you know it isn't really love.
Most of the things in our lives will never be exposed, although they should be. Even though I say that, there are still some things about myself, objects and people in my past, for which I will never expose. I view the world as one big secret, one big conspiracy. There is something I have been trying to figure out. Something… something I can’t seem to put my finger on. There’s this boy, you see. Actually, he is not just “this boy”, he is amazing, the most amazing boy throughout my entire life hands down. It is too bad he does not really exist because if he did ... it would be real love.
I completely agree with this statement. Not many people understand how to even love someone/something, yet they claim they do. Love is unconditional and not judgemental or hateful. Love is about peace and companionship, but not heartache. How can we ever claim to have loved a person when that person gave us heartache? Love is joy, not sorrow. Love is everything good in this world and the next, yet this world doesn't view it as such. When love is experienced with malice and tears, it isn't really love. What happens to our souls when we are wrongfully loved, when we are loved with regret and pressure? It isn't really love, but the world says it is because you'll make up and everything will be just great. But in the deepest folds of your mind, you know it isn't really love.
Most of the things in our lives will never be exposed, although they should be. Even though I say that, there are still some things about myself, objects and people in my past, for which I will never expose. I view the world as one big secret, one big conspiracy. There is something I have been trying to figure out. Something… something I can’t seem to put my finger on. There’s this boy, you see. Actually, he is not just “this boy”, he is amazing, the most amazing boy throughout my entire life hands down. It is too bad he does not really exist because if he did ... it would be real love.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Dating Hinder
I discovered an amazing quote today which I posted as my "tag line". I am reading Freud's Interpretation of Dreams for Textual Analysis and the quote is actually in a foot note because he references it. I read it and a whole new world opened in front of my eyes. I knew the idea behind it prior to reading this quote but I had never come across the reason established so clearly. It is really great and absolutely true. We, as people, do not understand another person until we share a hardship with that person.
A battle has been going on in my head today about whether or not I want to start dating again. I haven't been on more than a second date since my most recent breakup which was a little over a year ago. I knew that partly it was because I was still emotionally attached to my ex because of how abrupt the relationship ended, but I'm not sure what is holding me back now. Do I want to say yes to a dating offer? Do I have the time to date? Will I be sacrificing what I love to date? Do I even have the emotional need to date? I don't think I do, but I want someone who cares for me in that way I just don't want to work to establish the platform. I just want it to happen. Geez, I'm retarded. Everything takes work, especially establishing such a relationship, but I'm not sure I'm willing to work to get there. At least not at this point in time. I'm much more content with working on my stories and reading the latest and greatest novel.
Which brings me to the fact that I don't blog about anything that actually matters, so that pretty much answers my own questions.
A battle has been going on in my head today about whether or not I want to start dating again. I haven't been on more than a second date since my most recent breakup which was a little over a year ago. I knew that partly it was because I was still emotionally attached to my ex because of how abrupt the relationship ended, but I'm not sure what is holding me back now. Do I want to say yes to a dating offer? Do I have the time to date? Will I be sacrificing what I love to date? Do I even have the emotional need to date? I don't think I do, but I want someone who cares for me in that way I just don't want to work to establish the platform. I just want it to happen. Geez, I'm retarded. Everything takes work, especially establishing such a relationship, but I'm not sure I'm willing to work to get there. At least not at this point in time. I'm much more content with working on my stories and reading the latest and greatest novel.
Which brings me to the fact that I don't blog about anything that actually matters, so that pretty much answers my own questions.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
48 Hours
What was today ... National Ex Day?
Talk about a downer.
I went to advising today to figure out my schedule for the Spring semester. I have to say that coming out of my advisor's office left me in a wonderful mood that masked my not so wonderful mood. Drum roll please ... I only have 48 hours left before I can graduate. In other words, three more semesters! I was actually beginning to think that my journey through college would never end. Although I am planning to continue on to getting my Graduate Degree, but that is a lot different than being an Undergrad. For one, I'll finally get to be on my own and two, I'll be making my own money doing what I love doing. Cross your fingers.
Study group with people from Textual Analysis was highly commical and who knew that discussing Fredric Jameson would be so? I'm just glad that I have finally found some people who enjoy discussing literary works.
Richard Cypher awaits, so until tomorrow.
Talk about a downer.
I went to advising today to figure out my schedule for the Spring semester. I have to say that coming out of my advisor's office left me in a wonderful mood that masked my not so wonderful mood. Drum roll please ... I only have 48 hours left before I can graduate. In other words, three more semesters! I was actually beginning to think that my journey through college would never end. Although I am planning to continue on to getting my Graduate Degree, but that is a lot different than being an Undergrad. For one, I'll finally get to be on my own and two, I'll be making my own money doing what I love doing. Cross your fingers.
Study group with people from Textual Analysis was highly commical and who knew that discussing Fredric Jameson would be so? I'm just glad that I have finally found some people who enjoy discussing literary works.
Richard Cypher awaits, so until tomorrow.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Latin Excellence and Dodging an Unwanted Bullet
First of all, and this is simply my opinion, but Medea was insane. Try comparing her to a modern day serial killer and see what happens. Not many people would kill their own brother AND children (plus several others). I wouldn't want her as my mommy.
So every MWF I have an 8AM class and each MWF I see the same couple on my way to said class. We park in the same parking lot so it's kind of inevitable, but really annoying for me. They are the typical high school outcast couple, but the catch is that they aren't in high school! Freshmen crossed my mind, but still. Anyway, the point is that every time I see them I have to try my best to hold in my breakfast. The guy always walks with his arm around the girl, which by the way I would never let a guy do; I'm sorry but I'm not something to possess. And then I always see them before class starts and the girl always has her head buried in the guy's chest and I can just imagine her saying, "Please don't make me go to class. How do I know I'll see you again?" Freakin' emo pussy needs to man up and quit being possessed and go to class so she can have a future because let me tell you something ... she is not going to have too bright of a future with this guy. That's for sure. But if she is really that worried about never seeing him again then she can just follow me around because I see him all the time. Seriously. Grow the fuck up.
[It's technically not that big of a deal, but it makes me sick.]
On the up side.
I made an A on my Latin exam. I was in complete shock because I could have sworn that I failed. Who knew?
There's this one guy in my Latin class who I'm assuming likes me and I do not like him. That always sucks because then he annoys the hell out of me. Too bad it's too late in the semester to sit on the other side of the room. He would totally call me out on it. So anyway, every time he walks behind me or sees me or anything he thumps me ... like some retard. Obviously it's his way of flirting but apparently he hasn't received the many signals I have sent back with big fat Xs on them. He's a nice guy and we have the same major and a similar aspiration (writing fantasy), but no thank you. I don't want someone who is so similar to me. How boring is that. So how in the world do I get out of this without being a bee-atch, without dropping the class, and without making up a fake boyfriend? If only I knew because I do not want to have the unwanted conversation with him.
Lastly.
I had to write an essay about Frederic Jameson and then compare his theories to a literary work so here it is if interested. Note: This is just the main idea, not the final draft.
Frederic Jameson is a devout Marxist which means that he follows the teachings and theories of Karl Marx. A Marxist begins to understand a literary work through the form of production of a specific period in time with the basis of understanding through the economics of the literary work. A Marxist feels that the economy structures a person, thus influencing the person’s interpretation of literature and how the person writes. Furthermore, a Marxist feels that a person must first understand Marxism to understand literature. Once that is accomplished, Jameson feels the person should put away what they know and access the period of thought in which the work was created. Jameson feels this way because to him history, as economic history, is the bottom line to understanding anything. To further understand a literary work, the Marxist methodology calls for the understanding of the political history to which the work refers, the social history, and the history of modes of production. Jameson also believes that no literary work is directly accessible without mediation and that no literary work is pure because it has always been viewed at an earlier time either through the person’s own ideas or the influence around the person.
In Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight, the political history, social history, and modes of production surround the Volturi. The Volturi are the largest coven of vampires and they act as the political figures of the vampire world because they are the oldest in existence. Their main job is to enforce the one main law which forbids any human of knowing that vampires exist. The Volturi fit into the story of Twilight not only because they are the political figures, but also because they have a social history with the main characters. Carlisle Cullen, a main character, lived with the Volturi for many years until he started his own coven. Another connection is that the Volturi want Edward and Alice, two other main characters, to join their coven because of their rare gifts. The Volturi’s modes of production are that they only enlist those who have special gifts of which they are in need. These special gifts are what make the Volturi the elite political figures of the vampire world.
So every MWF I have an 8AM class and each MWF I see the same couple on my way to said class. We park in the same parking lot so it's kind of inevitable, but really annoying for me. They are the typical high school outcast couple, but the catch is that they aren't in high school! Freshmen crossed my mind, but still. Anyway, the point is that every time I see them I have to try my best to hold in my breakfast. The guy always walks with his arm around the girl, which by the way I would never let a guy do; I'm sorry but I'm not something to possess. And then I always see them before class starts and the girl always has her head buried in the guy's chest and I can just imagine her saying, "Please don't make me go to class. How do I know I'll see you again?" Freakin' emo pussy needs to man up and quit being possessed and go to class so she can have a future because let me tell you something ... she is not going to have too bright of a future with this guy. That's for sure. But if she is really that worried about never seeing him again then she can just follow me around because I see him all the time. Seriously. Grow the fuck up.
[It's technically not that big of a deal, but it makes me sick.]
On the up side.
I made an A on my Latin exam. I was in complete shock because I could have sworn that I failed. Who knew?
There's this one guy in my Latin class who I'm assuming likes me and I do not like him. That always sucks because then he annoys the hell out of me. Too bad it's too late in the semester to sit on the other side of the room. He would totally call me out on it. So anyway, every time he walks behind me or sees me or anything he thumps me ... like some retard. Obviously it's his way of flirting but apparently he hasn't received the many signals I have sent back with big fat Xs on them. He's a nice guy and we have the same major and a similar aspiration (writing fantasy), but no thank you. I don't want someone who is so similar to me. How boring is that. So how in the world do I get out of this without being a bee-atch, without dropping the class, and without making up a fake boyfriend? If only I knew because I do not want to have the unwanted conversation with him.
Lastly.
I had to write an essay about Frederic Jameson and then compare his theories to a literary work so here it is if interested. Note: This is just the main idea, not the final draft.
Frederic Jameson is a devout Marxist which means that he follows the teachings and theories of Karl Marx. A Marxist begins to understand a literary work through the form of production of a specific period in time with the basis of understanding through the economics of the literary work. A Marxist feels that the economy structures a person, thus influencing the person’s interpretation of literature and how the person writes. Furthermore, a Marxist feels that a person must first understand Marxism to understand literature. Once that is accomplished, Jameson feels the person should put away what they know and access the period of thought in which the work was created. Jameson feels this way because to him history, as economic history, is the bottom line to understanding anything. To further understand a literary work, the Marxist methodology calls for the understanding of the political history to which the work refers, the social history, and the history of modes of production. Jameson also believes that no literary work is directly accessible without mediation and that no literary work is pure because it has always been viewed at an earlier time either through the person’s own ideas or the influence around the person.
In Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight, the political history, social history, and modes of production surround the Volturi. The Volturi are the largest coven of vampires and they act as the political figures of the vampire world because they are the oldest in existence. Their main job is to enforce the one main law which forbids any human of knowing that vampires exist. The Volturi fit into the story of Twilight not only because they are the political figures, but also because they have a social history with the main characters. Carlisle Cullen, a main character, lived with the Volturi for many years until he started his own coven. Another connection is that the Volturi want Edward and Alice, two other main characters, to join their coven because of their rare gifts. The Volturi’s modes of production are that they only enlist those who have special gifts of which they are in need. These special gifts are what make the Volturi the elite political figures of the vampire world.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Nothing Hitherto
Everyone needs an outlet and while writing serves as my choice outlet, it doesn't cover my personal feelings, only the feelings of my characters.
Realizing my true passion in life, I changed my major at the beginning of this semester to English. I figured why not pursue my only natural talent (however much of a talent it may be) and why not pursue being an author with the correct major - original major being Aerospace Engineering. Not a waste, but boring - helped my GPA though. Besides, having to study every second of every day just to get NASA to sign my paychecks wasn't helping my writing motivation. Now that I have done away with the aforementioned original major, my book has taken to the sky with massive wings.
Driving in my car to class the other week, listening to Disturbed's new Indestructible album, I had an epiphany. I know that some authors listen to music while writing because it gives them inspiration to write the most complicated of scenes (i.e. Meyer), but that doesn't work for me. On the contrary, I realized the story line of my aforementioned book closely follows Indestructible. Weird? No. Handy? Why, yes. Because of this grand epiphany I have been able to better develop my book, giving it a defined story line. No, my book does not coincide with Disturbed's personal picked track list, but to my own. Here is the new arrangement:
Perfect Insanity
Torn
Inside the Fire
Haunted
Facade
Deceiver
Indestructible
Divide
Night
Enough
Criminal
Curse
Now, I mentally cross my fingers that my finished book will be taken on for a possible publication and that Disturbed will like my renditions of their stupendous artistry.
Moving on.
I had a wicked awesome dream the other night. Driving to class the next morning, I found myself writing down the dream at stop lights or traffic jams. The scribbling continued through my entire first class - Literature of the Western World - and I missed most of the lecture on Medea. Although not a hard one to grasp from sparknotes if need be. The development I have made on the original dream has so far reached ten pages and I realize it could be another potential publication. I found myself considering the story line of Atwater-Rhodes' work Demon in My View. Could I possibly be a descendent of some mythical creature? I'll literally cross my fingers for that one. My reality is a drag, but the dream definitely wasn't. Here it is, if interested:
I could see her but I knew no one else could, even though no one else was around. She was walking down the middle of a deserted cobblestone rode lined on each side with Victorian houses that had steps leading up to each front door. She wore tight, dark copper jeans, a puffy red jacket with a hood that looked to be about three sizes too big, and she was barefoot. Her straight, brown hair hung to her shoulder blades. She was confused. She didn’t know where she was and she was trying to find someone who could see her. She kept scanning the houses on each side of her, looking for anyone that would or could help her. I was standing behind her. She hadn’t noticed me yet and I didn’t want her to, I just wanted to continue to look at her without her noticing. I took a step after her, my shoes scraping against the cobblestone, and she heard me. She looked backward in my direction, towards the sound, and I quickly swiveled my head around as if I was the one searching for something or someone, my body following the motion. She surveyed me with the question “Can he see me?” in her eyes, then decided I couldn’t and turned back around to continue walking up the road, searching. The entire time she was walking, me following, no one other than the two of us made themselves known. I didn’t know if anyone else was even around; the street was deserted and the houses were void of life. I continued walking slowly after her, careful not to drag my feet. I wondered why no one else was anywhere to be seen. I wondered why her jacket was so big and why she was barefoot. I wondered why I could see her. I couldn’t help but look at her and not just because I knew she was dead.
What would Freud think of that? Probably something sexual no doubt. Pervert.
Realizing my true passion in life, I changed my major at the beginning of this semester to English. I figured why not pursue my only natural talent (however much of a talent it may be) and why not pursue being an author with the correct major - original major being Aerospace Engineering. Not a waste, but boring - helped my GPA though. Besides, having to study every second of every day just to get NASA to sign my paychecks wasn't helping my writing motivation. Now that I have done away with the aforementioned original major, my book has taken to the sky with massive wings.
Driving in my car to class the other week, listening to Disturbed's new Indestructible album, I had an epiphany. I know that some authors listen to music while writing because it gives them inspiration to write the most complicated of scenes (i.e. Meyer), but that doesn't work for me. On the contrary, I realized the story line of my aforementioned book closely follows Indestructible. Weird? No. Handy? Why, yes. Because of this grand epiphany I have been able to better develop my book, giving it a defined story line. No, my book does not coincide with Disturbed's personal picked track list, but to my own. Here is the new arrangement:
Perfect Insanity
Torn
Inside the Fire
Haunted
Facade
Deceiver
Indestructible
Divide
Night
Enough
Criminal
Curse
Now, I mentally cross my fingers that my finished book will be taken on for a possible publication and that Disturbed will like my renditions of their stupendous artistry.
Moving on.
I had a wicked awesome dream the other night. Driving to class the next morning, I found myself writing down the dream at stop lights or traffic jams. The scribbling continued through my entire first class - Literature of the Western World - and I missed most of the lecture on Medea. Although not a hard one to grasp from sparknotes if need be. The development I have made on the original dream has so far reached ten pages and I realize it could be another potential publication. I found myself considering the story line of Atwater-Rhodes' work Demon in My View. Could I possibly be a descendent of some mythical creature? I'll literally cross my fingers for that one. My reality is a drag, but the dream definitely wasn't. Here it is, if interested:
I could see her but I knew no one else could, even though no one else was around. She was walking down the middle of a deserted cobblestone rode lined on each side with Victorian houses that had steps leading up to each front door. She wore tight, dark copper jeans, a puffy red jacket with a hood that looked to be about three sizes too big, and she was barefoot. Her straight, brown hair hung to her shoulder blades. She was confused. She didn’t know where she was and she was trying to find someone who could see her. She kept scanning the houses on each side of her, looking for anyone that would or could help her. I was standing behind her. She hadn’t noticed me yet and I didn’t want her to, I just wanted to continue to look at her without her noticing. I took a step after her, my shoes scraping against the cobblestone, and she heard me. She looked backward in my direction, towards the sound, and I quickly swiveled my head around as if I was the one searching for something or someone, my body following the motion. She surveyed me with the question “Can he see me?” in her eyes, then decided I couldn’t and turned back around to continue walking up the road, searching. The entire time she was walking, me following, no one other than the two of us made themselves known. I didn’t know if anyone else was even around; the street was deserted and the houses were void of life. I continued walking slowly after her, careful not to drag my feet. I wondered why no one else was anywhere to be seen. I wondered why her jacket was so big and why she was barefoot. I wondered why I could see her. I couldn’t help but look at her and not just because I knew she was dead.
What would Freud think of that? Probably something sexual no doubt. Pervert.
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