Edit

I have several ideas brewing for summer. I feel oddly mischievous about them, even though none of them are actually harmful. My brain is probably processing the nerves and overwhelmed by my imagination and interpreting it as sneaky. Regardless of my possible malfunction, I'm enjoying the prospects.

I spoke to my friend Amy about writing a picture book. About Rapunzel. I don't want to reveal anything more, because I have a suspicion that more people read my blog than subscribe to it publicly. That's okay, but I would much prefer my style to remain un-cramped.

I'm also considering abandoning this blog and creating a new one - a more impersonal one. It's a project that will require some effort and some time, but it intrigues me.

What I would really like to do is stop being cryptic and discuss my projects with my friends to get some useful feedback. That would be wonderful. But I have received an unkind response or two to things I have posted in the past, which leads me back to the inevitable traits of humans.

Basically, if I speak to you in detail about my projects, then I trust you and I want your feedback. Not feedback - your feedback. It's an intimate topic usually broached with barriers made of paper and classroom dynamics, but I suspect that it's harder in real life and much more reliable.

Labels for this post: thoughtful, sneaky, distrust

Hungry

Through many years of academy training, I have discovered that I turn into a monster when my blood sugar gets too low. Like a monster, I rip off the arms of anyone standing near me with no regard as to who that person might be. Or I would. Maybe.

I have also discovered that milkshakes contain the keys to confidentiality, and I firmly believe they have shakes in Heaven.

There are cats, too. :)

Labels for this post: brief, short, miniscule

Half-Poet

I know why you drink and write,
you poets of depressed night.
You feel empowered, which I'm sure
will not linger in the morn.
The word will flow in ceaseless praise,
to your fingers on the page,
and everyone will doubt no more
the reverence that you implore.

I know why you drink - to die,
because your poems of death are nigh,
Emily's gone, and Sylvia too,
so what now will we do with you?
We too are in the human race,
given you your time and space,
all the classes you could take
to keep at bay your real-life wake.

I know why you drink and time
your syllables to match with mine,
and though the company you keep -
Butler, Yeats, Cummings E.E.
will hardly make you one of these,
prestigious though it is indeed.
If you must practice what you preach,
then hope to God it's within reach
of Man's affluent companies
in this hopeless economy.

Hello, please edit. Thank you.

Labels for this post: leave, a, comment (please)

Myspace

After many frustrating arguments with my father over winter break, I decided to allow him to purify my computer and conceded to working with my personal account, aptly titled 'Jennifer', instead of the administrator's account. Generally, it's a good idea, except that it sort-of reminds me of training wheels.
Anyway, the real point is that I have seldom used my Jennifer account since my freshman year of college for any substantial work, so all my bookmarks remained, no matter how outdated (Tiffany's? Seriously?). Another one of these unexpected twists was my Myspace page. It was outdated, and in a bad way. At the very least, it was a picture of me and a former boyfriend, and I couldn't remember my password for the past, I don't know, 3 years? So I couldn't change anything.

Gah.

It is way more surreal to find a photo than a note. Your brain registers a thousand words at a glance, allegedly.
Thanks to my account switch, I've been able to successfully eliminate the photo.

Thanks, Dad. I guess parents really do know what's up, sometimes.

Labels for this post: dusty, tattered, page

Wall

I realized today in one of my classes that I don't think I'm going to be able to write a memoir-like piece for my nonfiction class. It is nonfiction, but I'm not sure that I'm going to be able to research the topic. Maybe I'll write about hair and female sexuality. Hmmm.

Lately I've been randomly writing poems. They don't really mean something veiled and significant, but I have discovered that writing poetry comes more easily to me than other things. I like to write silly poems, and typically they rhyme. I think having a strong musical background helps. Sometimes I forget that I love poetry, so it's nice to remember.

I am so happy with the weather right now. I'm not sure we could have asked for a more beautiful day, unless it was a day on which I didn't have gym, and could have worn a dress.

My recital is in about a week and a half, and I predict much neglecting of attention in other classes immediately following it. I also predict cake.

Labels for this post: oh hey March what's up?

Crushes

I feel as though this title needs a disclaimer, but I also think that life needs a disclaimer, or maybe a few.

"Life is not responsible for whatever happens to you," or "Employees must wash hands."

That sums it up pretty well.

Anyway, one of my beautiful girl friends always brings up how handsome or how beautiful she finds someone. She openly admits to having crushes - on everybody. Naturally, she would rather bring home Eli Roth than myself, but therein lies the difference between a crush and a crush. I have lots of girl-crushes, and usually crushes stem from an attraction based on someone else's humor or intelligence or something else I admire. The ones that have been sexual have been boyfriends or something like it.
I don't believe you should feel guilty about 'extracurricular' attraction if you're in a relationship, because it's really just part of your genetic makeup as a human bean. Similarly, you shouldn't rail on someone else for it unless it's actually a problem. You also shouldn't act on it unless you're unhappy in your relationship. I'm not advocating cheating or even an open relationship. Just honesty.

Speaking of honesty and crushes (even pre-pubescent Twilight ones) did anyone else hear about what Robert Pattinson said regarding his photo shoot in Details magazine? If not, look it up. I'm refusing to repeat what he said, but I will offer this as my reply.

Dearest Edward,

I would call you a cunt, but you possess neither the depth nor the warmth.

Labels for this post: crush, fiery, life

Bakery or therapy

For some reason, some of my most favorite people are the adjunct professors of the music department. Few of them are or were ever my professors, but they all seem to enjoy my company, which makes me feel like we're friends.
I really like being friends.

Anyway, one of my very favorite not-personally-my-own professors and I occasionally run into each other at the Bakery. Last week, she remarked, "The Bakery, or therapy." I said it was less expensive. We're both like, totally right.

It's interesting to see the way food reflects people. I personally can't stand picky eaters, because for some reason I keep thinking they're afraid of everything. Holy shit, don't eat that cake, it's totally poisonous! See what I mean?

My friend is right. I would so much rather have a sandwich than a session.

Labels for this post: Bakery, picky, friends