Recently in autobiography in progress Category

So. Trying something different. Got a LiveJournal (primary reasons: peer pressure, envious of icons and friendlier comments system) for spontaneous entries, random thoughts and internet flotsam. Keeping this puppy around, and as exercise in discipline going to try to keep writing muscles flexing by updating at least once a week (aiming for every friday plus whenever else I have something) with some piece of fresh, tasty, some-effort-involved prose (rant, essay, original story or fanfic). Also going to make some of the technical and cosmetic alterations here I've been planning since August.

School officially done for term, job situation still unresolved (got an interview monday, waiting to hear from a couple of other places, or for an election call). Script banging along, still don't know what venue we're in, but apparently Sharon's officially in now, so I will be super-busy come Fringe time. And Dad's still looking for another job, maybe in another city, so until that part of the future gets resolved I can't really make travel plans for the summer. From now on, look for this kind of information on the other journal.

I was dumped today.

So that's always fun.

The Anthropology Students' Association Colloquium went extremely well. For a while it seemed Murphy (operator of the law of the same name) had it in for us, but He relented. Professors Silcox and Richling were both top notch, and most of the students did damn well, too (Maureen's, on a never-really-studied-before Roman lamp, was actually probably the best student presentation. Yay Maureen!)

Sin City was terrific. Not a filling intellectual or emotional meal, but a delectable sensory treat. But was it worth the hours it took out of working on my Religions of India paper (fuhkinelllastonelastone)? We shall see. I might be able to pull it off in time ('course everytime I say/think that something turns up to screw me over. . .). Need to finish reading R.K. Narayan's adaptation of Kamlan's Tamil translation of Valmiki's Ramayana (actually a mighty fun book), then try to get through this Hsi Yu Chi translation if I can, plus a hundred pages of articles. For Tuesday. And the paper only has to be 5-7 pages. At least comparing Indian and Chinese monkey divinities (Hanuman and Sun Wukung) is a fun topic.

Fuck. What. The fuck. What the fuck is wrong with you? What's with all the drama, this fucking bullshit misery show? School's great, you're doing fine, you have a GPA of 4.318 for crying out bloody loud. This self-conscious crap, it's bull, some sociologist proved that, that when you're scared everyone is staring at you like you're an idiot they're not, they don't even notice cuz they're all worried everyone is staring at them. Yeah, your family's thoroughly messed up, but you're hardly alone there and whining won't change jack shit, even if you wanted it to. You have friends who'll love you and support you even when you bitch and moan, even when you freak out, that's been proven, so you can stop testing them and return the favour. You're not perfect, you just are. You can't do everything right, learn to fucking live with it. So you don't know what happens next, or tomorrow, or next year or in twenty- guess what? Neither does anyone else and yet they deal with it somehow. They don't make total asses of themselves on the phone, solve nothing, and then cry about it for an hour. They just do- whatever. They do it. I don't know what the best course of action is, I don't, I'm sorry, but I know that this agonising, worrying, depression, fucking panic won't help anybody with anything. For fucksake, just get over it already. Cheer the fuck up. And if you can't, take the 16 leftover T3s. Open your distal forelimbs from between the trochlea and capitulum to between the styloid processes and take a bath in it. Just quit your motherfucking whimpering, it's wearing on my nerves.

Holyshitholyshitholyshit. We're in the Fringe. Caitlin, Jamie and I are in the bloody Fringe. Our company is called Angry At Apples, our play hasn't got a title yet, we have heaps and heaps and heaps of work yet to do writing and preparing, two dozen people volunteering to act but we'll still be lucky to get solid commitments from the six we need, but we're in the Fringe. So's Sharon, so I suppose I'll be doing double-duty stage-managing. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeek.

I broke my glasses yesterday. Walked into a door. It's not as pathetic as it sounds: this door has a habit of breaking, most dangerously by opening partway when pushed, going KRAK and slamming back in my face. Knocked the arm of the frames near straight, when I tried to bend it enough to put them on my head the left lens popped out. Rachel did an impressive repair job with thread, though it'll need professional fixing or even replacement. Thank you, Rachel! After that mishap I met up with Aiden and we dawdled at Into The Music and Toadhall Toys (reading children's books) before having dinner at the Fyxx and seeing A Very Long Engagement (go see this movie. Now. Soooo good. It's just . . . guh. Amazing.) at the Towne 8. Ah, Exchange District. How I will truly miss thy charms when at last in this city I no longer dwell.

Also I think I may have just lost the game, though I'm not certain.

Hello, Sleep. Sorry I haven't seen much of you the past few days, I've had other things to do. I don't know if they were really more important, but they certainly seemed so at the time. See, on Tuesday . . .
[Below the cut you will also find results from spanky-cool quizzes from a generally awesome site.]

Is 2005 off to a spectacularly surreal start for anyone else?

Hmph. Long time no type (and suddenly wondering why it's called typing, but that'd be a digression). Many other things have asserted claims on my time and especially my energy, and my computer use has been quite minimal. I now have more time at my disposal, if no more energy with which to use it (was pondering an analogy between university term and triathlon, but would've only worked if triathlons went cycling then swimming then sprinting)- classes are adjourned until January and I've handed in all my papers, but still have three exams to go, a play to write, and all the mundane chores of living to attend to. Still, I've been stalling. Problem's not that I don't know what to write, in fact I've had images and entry fragments zipping through my consciousness quite steadily (snowflakes battering themselves senseless on windowpane like moths on Coleman lantern), I'm just resistent to the notion of communication. Not that I strictly need to use this thing with any regularity, no obligation, but it's here, and it was staring at me with those damned puppy-dog eyes . . .

Blog activity will continue to be low as my current attitude towards the internet as an institution is one of "whoop-de-fucking-doo" (exceptions mostly things like this).

Dr. Fulford called me a "steel trap" today. I think it was a compliment.

What do I want to do on Saturday? Be an extra in the Truman Capote biography they're filming? Go to talk on disability studies? Meeting of Manitoba Archaeology society? Steal Australian train bridges? I do not know.

Uhh. . . yay armistice?

Haven't been on the computer much at all lately. Combination of other demands on time and the fact I really only give about half a rat's ass for this stuff at the moment.

Been thinking about getting my ears repierced (left ear actually still open, two in right long since grown over), but would preclude blood-giving for a year, so I dunno.