I think I'm going to die

I'm writing a novel. This is a first since high school and those stupid attempts from back then obviously do not count. I should be working on said novel right now. Instead I'm doing this (what's new?) and working on my bio for the CalArts writing program web site. (Hi anyone who comes this way because of that, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I am rather disappointing.)

Holy Shit

I sent out "Chucks." Yeah that's right, I'm actually doing something to get published. Can you be sure it's actually me? That I'm not some horrible pod person. Or my good twin. No you can't. But let's just say I have to thank Alyssa for pointing me toward Duotrope. Very useful.

Oh and I have a lit mag picked out for the hipster story for when I finish the revision and have a few people look at it.

Argh!

I honestly have no idea how I did on my mid term. Though I did get a good amount of typing done. I think I'm going to have to watch Big Brother this year just because the one episode I watched today was ridiculous and the strange blood thirsty person in me just keeps hoping someone will end up murdered. Take for example the moment in the first episode when the lights went out, I was picturing a murder mystery moment, the lights come back up and "OH NO! Rachel and her huge boobs are dead!" ...or Hayden, he could go. I think he's HoH though >_>.

God damn it, I knew this would happen. The show also appears to play into my very judgmental nature.

I am a negligent blogger

I am. I've been reading comics. And studying for Spanish. And working, working, working like a dog. And wanting to punch things. And waiting in looooong lines. And wanting to yell and scream and kick things. And wanting to go to Six Flags and go on the Dare Devil Dive because there is nothing like a 150ft free fall to take all of the stress out of the world. It's like flying.


Listening to Led Zeppelin and procrastinating. I have a mid term tomorrow.

Dia dos

I got a good bit of writing done today. Wrote a research paper on Mexico. And even managed to read a few pages of The Road. Impressive considering how long ago I started reading the damn book.

But I have a Spanish quiz tomorrow. And my phone has stopped holding a charge. And I'm probably going to have to pay to get vaccines redone since I can't prove that I've had them. Also it is much too late at night now and I should go to bed.

Tomorrow, more revision.

Day One

Of summer school and my intensive all summer quest to write for an hour every day.

Today I was reminded of why I hate language classes. I hate talking to random people in my classes, I would greatly prefer if we were told to do all of our work in stony silence. But that is not the way things work in language classes. In language classes it's always, "Work in pairs." Fuck that shit.

That annoyance aside the writing went well. I'm revising a story I wrote for my thesis. Here's to hoping I can publish the damn thing. I plan to finish it tomorrow.

Tonight I have a fuck ton of homework for Spanish, and I should start in on my first composision. Luckily I got Mexico as my country for my report so it shouldn't be too awful.

Mother's Day and Productivity

Woke up at two. Called my mom. Call was dropped. Reminded John to call his mom. Mom called me back. Get reprimanded for calling so late. Admitted to being a lazy slob who can't be arsed to wake up earlier than one on a Sunday. Was admonished to call my grandmothers, something I was already planing on doing.

Head to my apartment. Call my grandma. Get voicemail. Leave a message. Sit down at my computer. Check email. Take a shower. Sit back down at computer. Check my webcomics of choice. Check Facebook. Read some blogs. Chastise myself for not getting work done and generally wasting my weekend. Start Spanish homework. Finish corrections for the midterm and the previous composition. Start on Spanish paper about La Navidad Pasada.

Write the longest first paragraph in Spanish ever...that I have written. Meander off to look at comics on Deviant Art. Check email. Talk to a friend on Facebook. Have a nervous break down over my financial situation as usual. Get Coldstone ice cream with John.

Spend an hour reading comics on the woes of being Luigi. As in Mario's brother. Discover a Star Wars comic that parodies the first ever Peanuts strip, a strip I have seen ten million times thanks to the power of Gluck.

Curse at myself for being such a lazy piece of shit. Finish Spanish paper. Dick around on the internet a bit. Put every Pearl Jam song I own on shuffle repeat and remove myself from my computer. Rewrite the first page of my hipster story to make it coherent. Get to the point where I stopped confusing the names of the two boys in the story and sit down to start typing.

Get a call from John asking if I want food. Answer yes. Food has been lacking after all. Type. Type. Type. John tells me food will be ready in eight minutes. Type. Type. Type. Food is ready. I will be over shortly. Type. Type. Save. Type. Run over to John's apartment. Eat while watching American Pickers. Play some Pokemon red.

Convince myself to play a "quick" game of League of Legends. "I'll run back home and type for an hour after. The game won't last more than forty minutes."

Game goes for an hour five. Fuck. John asks if he can play a ladder game of LoL in two hours time. I give my blessing and run back to my apartment to type like a fiend. Do this instead.