tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62806288322790059842024-03-05T02:59:13.277-08:00hug the darkMirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-66044753996340789082011-09-06T22:57:00.000-07:002011-09-06T22:57:04.925-07:00YA'LL SHOULD CHECK OUT <a href="http://mean-bones.blogspot.com/">MEAN BONES</a>, MY NEW BLOGMirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-49987618774617871602011-02-13T22:33:00.001-08:002011-02-13T22:40:28.491-08:00<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">i haven't been able to concentrate since getting home from work today. checking tumblr obsessively like the world's going to end. "tried" reading a book for tuesday. "tried" writing a paper on lolita. "tried" to muster the courage to read over the nine pages of my thesis that i have written so far. succeeded in buying a yoga dvd, a subscription to bitch magazine, and a pair of shoes, all online. people haunt facebook for hours or watch movies and tv shows to procrastinate; i shop. should probably consider doing the former often.<br />well tomorrow is valentine's day and i'm super stoked because andy and i no longer celebrate holidays and it's awesome.<br /></span></span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-15787342104195746942010-11-18T20:32:00.000-08:002010-11-18T21:00:06.073-08:00<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I'm tired. I always feel like writing when I'm tired, then I wake up five hours later with the lights still on and ink smeared on my pillow.<br /><br />I had a rush of happiness a few days ago and I'm trying to recapture that feeling. I read somewhere that good things happen to people who write down all the good things that happen to them. I would like to start doing that, but whenever I begin a writing endeavor, I feel like I <span style="font-style: italic;">have</span> to buy a new journal, and I don't have enough money or room for a new journal right now. So I'll put some things here, for now. I've felt particularly lucky these past few weeks. Finding Tina at Animal Control has brought me the most happiness. Then the little things: acing school, my warm bed on cold mornings, finally finishing my departmental application for graduate school. Drawing check marks inside of my planner. Andy, the only person that understands and can relate to the things that go on inside my head and my heart. Sometimes I devote so much of myself to caring about him that I forget to notice how he cares for me. Then I open my eyes and soak it in and it feels nice, in a selfish way, I know.<br /><br />I've learned the key to happiness:<br />Take an anti-depressant and after a month of numbness, get off of it without weaning. I'm not kidding. You have no idea how great feelings of all kinds are until you lose all of them completely. Like having a beer after not drinking for months.<br /></span></span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-58201985488096504632010-10-27T23:39:00.000-07:002010-10-28T00:03:12.853-07:00future's so bright?<span style="font-family: verdana;">This doesn't count as speaking aloud, right? Because my life is seemingly coming together all of the sudden and I really don't want to jinx it. As I finish my applications to PSU, picking up transcripts and letters of recommendation and getting ready to send everything in, I feel as though everything I've been brainstorming and fantasizing about over the past few months is finally materializing into something tangible. </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I don't like theoretical plans and fantasies, probably because I'm too cynical (I prefer to call it "realistic"). I don't make resolutions that I know I'm not capable of going through with. I don't like imagining the future because it's almost guaranteed to not pan out the way I would like it to. The solid, the tangible, is what I strive for. And I may be approaching it. </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">I guess it's nice to be wrapping up my final year of college feeling like it wasn't wasted time or a torturous experience. When I started, I was anything but thrilled with the demographic of the U of A campus, and I let that negatively affect my experience as a whole. And I still resent the utter devaluation of the humanities at the school. But as I look at my experience in the English department as a whole, I'm nothing but happy with all I've learned and accomplished. I love learning, and I love what I'm doing, and that feels good. I also love what I want to do in the immediate future, but I'm not going to lie to myself and say that isn't likely to change.</span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-26945200563465533922010-09-07T18:02:00.000-07:002010-09-07T22:12:11.780-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">and so it goes.</span><br />I am applying for graduate school. I mean, I am, quite literally, applying for one graduate program. I better get in, right?! Either way, it seems my days in Tucson are numbered, and right now I feel more than ready to leave. I can feel myself die inside every day that I spend at Xoom Juice, and on campus, or drinking on 4th. And every status update and uploaded picture I see. I'm tired of people, I'm tired of all kinds of people. I'm tired of people who can't take care of themselves, people who lack consciences, people who can't keep the simplest of promises, people who are ignorant of the enigma that is English grammar. I'm tired of hearing other people's perceptions of themselves, because they always seem to be the opposite. Those who claim to be cynical smile a lot more than most. People who label themselves "fun-loving" tend to be the absolute worst company. We should all resolve to not label ourselves, negatively or positively, because, trust me, you aren't whatever it is you think you are.<br /></span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-60801911014482562442010-08-15T20:54:00.000-07:002010-08-15T22:11:32.977-07:00home again, unfortunately<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;" >hello, i've returned from my (too) short but (too) sweet rendezvous to austin. it was a dream, minus the humid heat and the stomach bug i inconveniently acquired. lots of food, beer, music . . . my three favorite things. naturally, i fell head over heels in love with the city. i couldn't convey its perfection if i tried, so . . . i won't. in short, it was the greatest break from tucson/summer/work i could ask for, but it's also beautiful to come home to a southwest sunset, complete with lightening and thunder in the distance.<br /><br />i didn't take many pictures on the trip, and the ones i did have yet to be developed, but i just snapped some of what i bought while in austin. here's my loot:<br /><br /><a href="http://tinypic.com/?ref=2rfdeyw" target="_blank"><img src="http://i34.tinypic.com/2rfdeyw.jpg" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" border="0" /></a><br /><br />hello kitty pens from toy joy, buddhist calendar for my mom, vintage fantasy postcard and mexican photograph from tesoros, antique letter cards from uncommon objects, rooster tin from the turquoise door, wildflower seeds from zilker botanical garden, stickers from toy joy, and an antique tin from uncommon objects.<br /><br /><a href="http://tinypic.com/?ref=34xkhoj" target="_blank"><img src="http://i35.tinypic.com/34xkhoj.jpg" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" border="0" /></a><br /><br />better picture of the antique cards. m for miranda and d for donna, my mom.<br /><br /><a href="http://tinypic.com/?ref=dcgg7n" target="_blank"><img src="http://i33.tinypic.com/dcgg7n.jpg" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" border="0" /></a><br /><br />motafuckin' HOBIE on my bed with my amazing antique tin. it will hold either sewing scraps or drug paraphernalia . . . i can't decide.<br /><br /><a href="http://tinypic.com/?ref=2saikig" target="_blank"><img src="http://i37.tinypic.com/2saikig.jpg" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" border="0" /></a><br /><br />better picture of the French fantasy postcard dated 1910, which i cannot stop looking at. it doesn't even make sense. <br /></span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-84817181626872472772010-06-29T11:58:00.000-07:002010-06-29T12:06:21.352-07:00midnight to noon, i'm a desert child<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;" >I knew I was neglecting something. A decent-sized post about the state of my life is on its way. But for now, really quickly, here's a steam of consciousness list:<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;" >riding to work every day, cutting all animal products out of my life, saving money, spending money (internet shopping, you will be the death of me), daydreaming about big cities, figuring out life after graduation, itching for my filofax to arrive in the mail, weaning off my meds, smelling like a hobo everyday</span><br /></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-37894940997793610582010-05-28T20:33:00.000-07:002010-05-28T20:38:08.133-07:00o man<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "><div>I'm tipsy and still covered in mint-green paint. Which looks amazing in my new room. Which matches my chipped nail-polish. I'm sorta loving life right now. I would entirely love it if I wasn't stressing about successfully moving all of my and Andy's things out of here in two days AS WELL AS cleaning this house ceiling to floor. AND transporting Tina. Godammit. Sometimes I make things impossibly difficult. </div></span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-48447941981775911962010-05-11T22:02:00.000-07:002010-05-11T22:23:47.800-07:00finally!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">Yes, yes, I am finished with my junior year of college. I'm usually the one person out of all my friends who has her most difficult final at 8 on Friday morning, but for the very first time in my college career, I'm finished on a Tuesday. It feels glorious. I'm not feeling all this pressure to go out and party and I like it. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">Today I:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">- returned the 13 library books I had checked out and read over the past semester for my two 20-page research papers. It felt so good to drop them into the return box at the library! I had to carry them all in two bags and I think I looked a little goofy lugging them across campus. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">- organized my favorites bar, which was getting unorganized and out of control. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">- organized my bookcase, which seems a little silly since I'll be moving out of here before the month ends. I will miss these built-in bookcases by the fireplace (not to mention all the wood paneling) in this house. I'm scouring craigslist for something to hold all of my books. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">- cleaned out my makeup bag and bought some new shit for it. I don't wear makeup at work and school, but I effing love makeup. Like, expensive makeup that I shouldn't buy. Like, MAC and Stila shit that costs $30 for blush or whatever. I have lots of problems, but I'm not working on this one currently and it's bad. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">- ventured to the parents' house and went through all of my old CDs. I'll be honest: I'm not one of those people who has deep emotional connections to objects. Other than my Bobo bear and my journal, I wouldn't be too upset if I had to get rid of everything I own. In fact, I think I like throwing/giving things away a little too much. Thus, I have a box of CDs in my car that needs to be sold to Zia or Bookman's. Next to the trash bag of clothes I need to drop off at Salvation Army. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">- ate Inn-and-Out with Andy and listened to the most obnoxious (well, that goes without saying) sorority girls gossip about their friends and say, "If I had a boyfriend here, I would definitely cheat on him when I go back home for the summer." GO BACK TO CALI ALREADY. When I'm at work helping these idiots, I just have to remind myself that after Friday, they will be gone. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">- watched LOST (boring). Guess what, Amanda! My pa is going to be our designated driver for the LOST finale. You best take off work for that. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">Yay, productivity! Now to find a house and figure out what is going on with my schedule for next semester. I'm currently signed up for 2 classes, and I can't figure out this new system. I don't even think I can register anymore. Help me. </span></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-70042300270020577662010-04-29T20:57:00.000-07:002010-04-29T21:12:35.600-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">I seriously cried while I was writing my analysis of this poem in my 17-page paper on W.B. Yeats WHICH I JUST FINISHED YEEEEE</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-size:13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';">This is my favorite poem. I want someone to read it at my funeral, for serious. It's so beautiful and hopeful and magical and gahh. everything good.</span><br /><table width="100%" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" id="table21"><tbody><tr><td style="width: 100%; font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:10pt;"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span></td><td valign="top" rowspan="2" width="100" style=" ;font-size:10pt;"><div align="left" bg style="text-align: -webkit-center;color:#f1f2f2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span></div><div align="left" style="text-align: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span></div></td></tr><tr><td valign="top" style=" ;font-size:10pt;"><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%" id="table23"><tbody><tr><td valign="top" width="30" style=" ;font-size:10pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"> <br /></span></td><td valign="top" style="width: 100%; font-size:10pt;"><span style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size:14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">"Lapis Lazuli"</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /><br />I have heard that hysterical women say<br />They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow,<br />Of poets that are always gay,<br />For everybody knows or else should know<br />That if nothing drastic is done<br />Aeroplane and Zeppelin will come out,<br />Pitch like King Billy bomb-balls in<br />Until the town lie beaten flat.<br /><br />All perform their tragic play,<br />There struts Hamlet, there is Lear,<br />That's Ophelia, that Cordelia;<br />Yet they, should the last scene be there,<br />The great stage curtain about to drop,<br />If worthy their prominent part in the play,<br />Do not break up their lines to weep.<br />They know that Hamlet and Lear are gay;<br />Gaiety transfiguring all that dread.<br />All men have aimed at, found and lost;<br />Black out; Heaven blazing into the head:<br />Tragedy wrought to its uttermost.<br />Though Hamlet rambles and Lear rages,<br />And all the drop-scenes drop at once<br />Upon a hundred thousand stages,<br />It cannot grow by an inch or an ounce.<br /><br />On their own feet they came, or on shipboard,<br />Camel-back, horseback, ass-back, mule-back,<br />Old civilisations put to the sword.<br />Then they and their wisdom went to rack:<br />No handiwork of Callimachus,<br />Who handled marble as if it were bronze,<br />Made draperies that seemed to rise<br />When sea-wind swept the corner, stands;<br />His long lamp-chimney shaped like the stem<br />Of a slender palm, stood but a day;<br />All things fall and are built again,<br />And those that build them again are gay.<br /><br />Two Chinamen, behind them a third,<br />Are carved in lapis lazuli,<br />Over them flies a long-legged bird,<br />A symbol of longevity;<br />The third, doubtless a serving-man,<br />Carries a musical instmment.<br /><br />Every discolouration of the stone,<br />Every accidental crack or dent,<br />Seems a water-course or an avalanche,<br />Or lofty slope where it still snows<br />Though doubtless plum or cherry-branch<br />Sweetens the little half-way house<br />Those Chinamen climb towards, and I<br />Delight to imagine them seated there;<br />There, on the mountain and the sky,<br />On all the tragic scene they stare.<br />One asks for mournful melodies;<br />Accomplished fingers begin to play.<br />Their eyes mid many wrinkles, their eyes,<br />Their ancient, glittering eyes, are gay.</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-57294905774307890972010-04-24T11:28:00.000-07:002010-04-24T11:29:04.808-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Gah! My life will be so different in about a month! It's scary.</span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-75370411004783864222010-04-18T10:29:00.000-07:002010-04-18T10:37:24.804-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; ">I usually check out PostSecret every Sunday morning as a habit I developed in high school. I used to be really into it back then, but now I find it terribly corny and/or pointless. Yet, like the Dirty (ugh), I keep up with it now and then out of boredom and slight curiosity. I should stop looking at these pieces of shit websites. The Dirty, for obvious reasons, should not exist. But the more I look at PostSecret, the more I realize what crap it is. This week there are four anti-choice secrets in a row, and an email message calling the site out on its biased, misogynist bullshit. Despite the email message, however, there isn't one secret to balance out the obvious bias and ideology that's going on here. FUCK THAT.</span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-60960313368529836322010-03-27T19:46:00.000-07:002010-03-27T19:54:35.654-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">I don't have much to say, as usual, but I thought I'd mention that for the first time in a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">while</span> I feel particularly good. I've been more receptive to stepping outside of my comfort zone, having a good time, and spending time with people, all without conscious effort. On the level of consciousness, I've been trying not to bitch everyone out and tolerate them instead. I'm nowhere near perfect (as exhibited in my outburst on Niles), but I'm trying. Also, did you know that I'm on schizo/bi-polar drugs? Yeah, it's fucking weird. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:48px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7ZS-xh7k5gI_m8fwhSToGIIdkwQRayhIk6DRY6Odb55KLyPc68Hvivm1NRAuvcUjo3P0QgcwQz1xRGRxg3cgYgnqfgtXMUh46LOxWRe1n7YMGoj39SXa-lreZK65RcZ71tC7Fd4Cdl-0/s1600/tumblr_kz6ju4gzzP1qaekbqo1_400.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL7ZS-xh7k5gI_m8fwhSToGIIdkwQRayhIk6DRY6Odb55KLyPc68Hvivm1NRAuvcUjo3P0QgcwQz1xRGRxg3cgYgnqfgtXMUh46LOxWRe1n7YMGoj39SXa-lreZK65RcZ71tC7Fd4Cdl-0/s320/tumblr_kz6ju4gzzP1qaekbqo1_400.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453512274354626818" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtfvxQkNMSeqY9TflftIZbvBjZI8BhPgNZPPovyTgQuuxsQ1yzoexmNz7BMxKFFAKq-KfxyYqDAloBpMnDXS7FSe6xHHBKISU5DDRypZXWPTmLJCyUGGi1C3xWWgY6eozaQaSAL3grCej/s1600/normal_00335.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtfvxQkNMSeqY9TflftIZbvBjZI8BhPgNZPPovyTgQuuxsQ1yzoexmNz7BMxKFFAKq-KfxyYqDAloBpMnDXS7FSe6xHHBKISU5DDRypZXWPTmLJCyUGGi1C3xWWgY6eozaQaSAL3grCej/s320/normal_00335.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453512365876044562" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 179px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; ">(whisk maracas)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-9224051936341725962010-03-23T17:55:00.000-07:002010-03-23T18:16:33.891-07:00just ragin'<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">God, I suck at posting. Lately I can't write decently. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">I've been on a rage streak since school started (aka today). Everything pisses me off to no end. I filled out my census this morning and it was ridiculous how mad it made me. Today Andy forgot to lower my bike seat and I'm too frail to do it myself so I was late for my test. During my test the girl that always has to take her shoes off to reveal her janky toes DID and I was furious. In my last class everyone talked shit about Lady Gaga and Alexander McQueen but of course my social anxiety was inflamed by my anger so all I could think was FUUUCCKKK. Then I walked outside in shorts and sandals to cold rain. What the fuck? Oh and I'm trying to sell shit on Craigslist because I'm broke and all I'm getting is South Africans who want to scam me or robots. AND I fucked up my sewing machine and it costs $80 dollars to repair (although when they told me that I said that I'm on a budget and have boobs, well I didn't say that because it's obvious, and they said they'd try to lower the price). ANWAY everything is bullshit. But not in that depressing, I might as well die way, but in that ironic WHOOP-DEE-DOO way, you know? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">Let's see, what else is new...I have some hash but I don't know where it came from. Like I looked at my stash of shitty weed and it was there and I was like...what? Also, Oscar Zeta Acosta (aka Dr. Gonzo) is the shit. That's all i got guys. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 48px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">PS Whenever I feel down I look at this picture: </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 48px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:48px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcM7RTH1W-zWyIY18m6nxVmeUBiG3LbCnO-UQGY5eEq3CoC-evLcgoWKrq4Pb_qT6115LCWO23tp_cA9bt52MD9ihVKyeeAJtjuXyjoTJcKZl7An7s8vAfEuFJ9qDC-DemmzVHbq8qvD6X/s1600-h/gaga+grammys.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcM7RTH1W-zWyIY18m6nxVmeUBiG3LbCnO-UQGY5eEq3CoC-evLcgoWKrq4Pb_qT6115LCWO23tp_cA9bt52MD9ihVKyeeAJtjuXyjoTJcKZl7An7s8vAfEuFJ9qDC-DemmzVHbq8qvD6X/s320/gaga+grammys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452002366020129586" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:48px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; ">I think it's because I imagine myself as red shirt dude.</span></span></span></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-51052055770311565712010-03-11T22:05:00.000-08:002010-03-11T22:12:18.457-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; ">Bahh Telephone is out guys:</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; line-height: normal; white-space: pre; "><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GQ95z6ywcBY&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GQ95z6ywcBY&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I'll write more about it later when I get the chance. All I gotta say is Beyonce with bangs is A+, I don't want to see her any other way. I also love Gaga's yellow hair, but she's looking a little skeletal. It frightens me. But those ciggy glasses....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I almost forgot how much I adore Beyonce. I like this:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; line-height: normal; white-space: pre; "><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OLj5zphusLw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OLj5zphusLw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object></span><br /></span></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-8171385672183766082010-02-16T20:26:00.000-08:002010-02-16T20:42:23.695-08:00<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;">I should (fingers crossed) start getting the internet at my house tomorrow, and is it not surprising that I have an entire to-do list of youtube videos, blogs, and wikipedia entries (not to mention lostpedia...) to catch up with? No, not at all. Without the internet, I watch eight episodes in a row of It's Always Sunny and get pretty fucking close to catching up with all my reading for ENGL 496...we're doing <em>Invisible Man </em>and the autobiography of Malcolm X this week...that's 1200 pages or something. What's wrong with me? No one should <em>ever</em> be completely caught up in a class like that. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#000000;">This post is an IOU...an I owe myself...who knows. Without the inspiration to write something of importance I have resorted to journal entries lately...is that good or bad? Well, I think it could be worse, because you don't even <em>know </em>what's in my sleepingpill/antidepressant/whatever the fuck else I'm on/addicted to brain right now. Seriously guys, it's weird, weird shit. I've been pulling a Hamlet nearly on the daily but no one else seems to think it's nearly as funny as I do. Am I going insane? Well, yes, I think I am, and perhaps my life isn't nearly as amusing as I think it is, but who cares?</span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-6576807230609343972010-01-27T15:57:00.000-08:002010-01-27T16:31:18.706-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; ">I haven't written in so long, mostly because the internet Andy and I steal suddenly stopped working. We're pretty torn up about it. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">My days are busy lately, especially compared to last semester, when I would spend most of my time streaming television shows and pestering Andy to hang out with me. I'm technically only taking three classes this semester, which is awesome because two are 400-level and one is a graduate class with 9 people. Renaissance Drama, Victorian Poetry, and "Literary Representations of the Racial Other." Not much to say, really. School is school and I'm pretty much over it. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I'm getting three credits this semester interning at CHAX Press, where I package and ship book orders, help with bookmaking, organize bookshelves, collect donations at poetry readings, and do random odd jobs. It's pretty sweet working for a poet and the studio is in the same warehouse as Small Planet Bakery, so it always smells like bread. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I started tutoring this Mexican dude that comes into my work in English. It's pretty adorable. I help him understand the books he's reading and check over the vocabulary worksheets he gets assigned at Pima. It's nice to make some extra money. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I'm currently on no medications. Fuck that. I'm seeing a hippy psychiatrist and she is awesome. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Other than that, lately I just sit in my freezing house and read. </span></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-86728641451402237542010-01-19T17:30:00.000-08:002010-01-19T17:55:41.538-08:00Image Dump<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglS3qtLi66NIUJ4dGGT0I0po5nFAPT_S67zt_ot77AX0mWXCVE8G0MgrPMs5L6pLYYZz8orkt-MGnXTXAKQzi3qRRDG1r5F8uEjW9P3nywHpEThlajpU7zPJiyz_J_WmYWADVaqH9ceXqV/s1600-h/1491143213165222878_rs+copy.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 313px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglS3qtLi66NIUJ4dGGT0I0po5nFAPT_S67zt_ot77AX0mWXCVE8G0MgrPMs5L6pLYYZz8orkt-MGnXTXAKQzi3qRRDG1r5F8uEjW9P3nywHpEThlajpU7zPJiyz_J_WmYWADVaqH9ceXqV/s320/1491143213165222878_rs+copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428633617078793218" /></a><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); 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width: 320px; height: 260px; " /></a><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0int3mlBgH_rrQs-TH6ZchCsKPX1y_vSN7y0MF_OV8drCPJ3cGpXPShaoTtxc3GdJwnmRam8bBK2o9_ArBx4Ah7t-hyu81uZy8X93NvRwxa3me3jUKUuyzIkeUp2TFEgiaVRtXWsyaH7N/s1600-h/7eedcc706557be5a6162d65af4e8db7705dfa641_m+copy.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0int3mlBgH_rrQs-TH6ZchCsKPX1y_vSN7y0MF_OV8drCPJ3cGpXPShaoTtxc3GdJwnmRam8bBK2o9_ArBx4Ah7t-hyu81uZy8X93NvRwxa3me3jUKUuyzIkeUp2TFEgiaVRtXWsyaH7N/s320/7eedcc706557be5a6162d65af4e8db7705dfa641_m+copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428634464004388546" style="cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 320px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-4151120651289930102010-01-08T15:54:00.001-08:002010-01-08T16:07:38.277-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I'm writing to mark the first day of my adventures in medicating and treating whatever the fuck has been wrong with me this winter break. I'm on antidepressants and seeing a therapist, yay? TMI? I don't really give a shit. My personal philosophy for a while now has been to be completely, and most of the time painfully, honest with people, so there you go. I never quibbled with teenage angst in high school, so maybe it's catching up to me, you know? That's how I try to rationalize all the bullshit that's been happening to me lately. Truthfully, I feel like I shouldn't be on antidepressants, but whatever. I spent all day at the doctor's yesterday getting blood tests and taking mental health tests, so I guess I'll take her word for it. In case you're wondering what's wrong with me: my heart rate is abnormally high, I have anxiety, and severe insomnia. It started during winter break, completely randomly. At first I didn't think much of it, but after I had gone 4 nights in a row without sleeping, I started freaking out a bit. It took me 3 weeks to finally see a doctor too, so fuck that. Anyway, that's what's going on with me. Feel free to bitch about your own life as much as possible to me, I'd actually appreciate that. </span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-78515508795750896302009-12-04T11:58:00.000-08:002009-12-04T12:00:45.481-08:00Quote of the Day<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "> This is my favorite passage from a really great post-modern book, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">White Noise</span> by Don DeLillo:</span><br /><blockquote>"Our pretense is a dedication. Someone must appear to believe. Our lives are no less serious than if we professed real faith, real belief. As belief shrinks from the world, people find it more necessary than ever that someone believe. Wild-eyed men in caves. Nuns in black. Monks who do not speak. We are left to believe. Fools, children. Those who have abandoned belief must still believe in us. They are sure that they are right not to believe but they know belief must not fade completely. Hell is when no one believes. There must always be believers. Fools, idiots, those who hear voices, those who speak in tongues. We are your lunatics. We surrender our lives to make your nonbelief possible. You are sure that you are right but you don't want everyone to think as you do. There is no truth without fools. We are your fools, your madwomen, rising at dawn to pray, lighting candles, asking statues for good health, long life."</blockquote></span>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-53960358463520800632009-11-30T17:33:00.000-08:002009-11-30T21:39:38.425-08:00Can't Femmes and Vegans Live in Harmony?<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/q2z2lTUR5Ao&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/q2z2lTUR5Ao&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">I don't want to get all political on you here, but I just found this video from the Onion that expresses my opinions on PETA quite well. I've been a vegetarian for years and I believe in and support animal rights 100%, but PETA will never earn my respect. I agree with their message, but not their execution. Dehumanizing and sexualizing women to grab attention is never okay. That said, I really hate the reactions to PETA ads that I read on feminist blogs, which are usually along the lines of, "fuck PETA I'm going to enjoy a massive steak now." I'm so tired of meat eaters cloaking their guilt of killing animals and supporting a harmful, inhumane system by glorifying food. It's not cute. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Also, why doesn't my spellcheck recognize the word "vegans?" Really?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: 18px; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I know, I sound like such a bleeding-heart hippy, don't I? I should go back to listening to </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Fame Monster</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. </span></span></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-10758828257811196392009-11-17T08:53:00.000-08:002009-11-19T09:05:59.410-08:00Beyonce + Gaga<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">I was pretty psyched for Video Phone to come out because although I'm outwardly in love with Lady Gaga, Beyonce has always had a pretty big piece of my heart. What can I say? I grew up bumping Destiny's Child (CUZ YOU A BUGABOO, A BUGABOO [I'm effing sorry]!) and deep down I know I'd go gay for her if given the chance. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">I thought the combination Gaga and Sasha Fierce would blow my mind, but to echo the opinions of other people, Video Phone left me feeling a little underwhelmed. My main problems with it are the lack of Gaga, some really fug outfits on Beyonce, and Lady Gaga's plastered hookerface makeup, which has evidently become her "natural" look. Gross. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">I can forgive and forget, though. I really love the Tarantino feel, especially in the beginning. The choreography is pretty half-assed but some parts are cool...I like the camera-head men. I think what basically saves everything is Beyonce's look at 2:53. Uh...cholla Bettie Page? God yes, dude. I want a fucking wig. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:48px;"><embed src="http://media.mtvnservices.com/mgid:uma:video:mtv.com:455581" width="512" height="319" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="configParams=artist%3D1236911%26vid%3D455581%26uri%3Dmgid%3Auma%3Avideo%3Amtv.com%3A455581" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" base="."></embed><div style="margin:0;text-align:center;width:500px;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/artist/knowles_beyonce/artist.jhtml" style="color:#439CD8;" target="_blank">Beyoncé</a> - <a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/" style="color:#439CD8;" target="_blank">New Music</a> - <a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/video/" style="color:#439CD8;" target="_blank">More Music Videos</a></div><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:48px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;">In other news, I've been watching a lot of Tarantino films in my literary analysis class and I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">need</span> to see <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Inglourious Basterds</span> again. I've developed a slightly creepy crush on Christoph Waltz. What can I say? I'm obsessed with older men, but not Nazis. Whatever. His under-bite is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">so </span>endearing. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-0JWLzI3vfaTQk5KpoO33eRhIsRaqNJfyey0UNC_-X7JN0pQdQ4nMis17J4L3twVQGAfGxv7XUobkeNOKp_TZwNu4PskDtIsOE94_rCoMX2G2lH_x0Rz2FoDoyu2t5fJ0CrjubdkilrJ/s1600/christoph-waltz_l.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-0JWLzI3vfaTQk5KpoO33eRhIsRaqNJfyey0UNC_-X7JN0pQdQ4nMis17J4L3twVQGAfGxv7XUobkeNOKp_TZwNu4PskDtIsOE94_rCoMX2G2lH_x0Rz2FoDoyu2t5fJ0CrjubdkilrJ/s320/christoph-waltz_l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405124550969311314" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Oh my god, guys, he is </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">so</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> adorable in real life, too.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';font-size:48px;"> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_G4mLHlS8ZfO4Y7l3FOVjMJwiQrqLQtwEwH-SM8Gi_LWUw0iLtbGZiFRqShnipEIoy2sdJ3Q5alDnfMmcIFksSlpw6YrofIUTK4BwlSK2zk7KcHKTxz3UvT5ycNfMPn92U5SvBLUwfc59/s1600/Christoph+Waltz+Berlin+Tegel+Airport+AEKKrFe9kftl.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_G4mLHlS8ZfO4Y7l3FOVjMJwiQrqLQtwEwH-SM8Gi_LWUw0iLtbGZiFRqShnipEIoy2sdJ3Q5alDnfMmcIFksSlpw6YrofIUTK4BwlSK2zk7KcHKTxz3UvT5ycNfMPn92U5SvBLUwfc59/s320/Christoph+Waltz+Berlin+Tegel+Airport+AEKKrFe9kftl.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405124832032451490" style="cursor: pointer; width: 244px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Lah, lah, love</span></span><br /></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-37211347970826883752009-11-11T18:26:00.000-08:002009-11-11T19:26:30.832-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Guys, can we </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">please </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">talk about Bad Romance??</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;"><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ACm9yECwSso&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ACm9yECwSso&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Gah, I'm beyond obsessed. I like the video so much, I think I'm starting to like the song, too, which surprises me. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I told someone I could list over 10 things that are genius about the video, so take note:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_busbfpd6yPvLkwD3X3XBaPYs5K3ok37RNEgck56NR7ldu-ulkAweVTV67ekX080_FGgwZallh2oPcEULZgpTMHJnk50wMWU-kTJWUg4U57ust0WPa4SI2FKUiN-daXdO38UTewe_dmcu/s1600-h/Picture+7.png"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_busbfpd6yPvLkwD3X3XBaPYs5K3ok37RNEgck56NR7ldu-ulkAweVTV67ekX080_FGgwZallh2oPcEULZgpTMHJnk50wMWU-kTJWUg4U57ust0WPa4SI2FKUiN-daXdO38UTewe_dmcu/s320/Picture+7.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403040594704660450" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 167px; " /></span></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Razor blade glasses.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">2. Lady Gaga lap dance at 2:41. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">3. Sign of the cross dance at 3:18. Brilliant.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">4. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2f3TTV2oyVf5MYn8E_zGB6M9Dh9S_sOwlnIseSAeE9pZvFjgbE8OcKsneuoaV-8Up1UxOJCeDTkvkVwYqm2tz9LebJl6-HjP9vGQ2K8xaonr_UjPFzhXgyEe9da4jZNvl55Xhw7XTQKLH/s1600-h/Picture+48.png" style="text-decoration: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2f3TTV2oyVf5MYn8E_zGB6M9Dh9S_sOwlnIseSAeE9pZvFjgbE8OcKsneuoaV-8Up1UxOJCeDTkvkVwYqm2tz9LebJl6-HjP9vGQ2K8xaonr_UjPFzhXgyEe9da4jZNvl55Xhw7XTQKLH/s320/Picture+48.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403046814723927490" style="text-decoration: underline; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " /> </span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Head-to-toe McQueen-adillo plus claw-hand. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">5. Albino animalss (hairless sphinx, dead bat in the nakee scenes, and her bear robe, unless you want to say it's a polar bear). </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">6. Tranny look at 4:06.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">7. BOOTY at 4:18. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">8. I wish I had a screen cap of my second favorite outfit (first is the McQueen-adillo, obviously), the red one. Very Leeloo Dallas Multipass ala <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Fifth Element.</span> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">9. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: normal; font-family:Georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbMy152NorDjJBNH8kU7dnS6H6bBrQIjV-fXSL2XPykejDFToym8K0wDBNTuVf5964dAQN4TUgSprSXx7CVBPopmYIsm9cq-WNSUtBzCsSmgM2QmTP6jO9wUL6P085BsqnV32JvRAR7_p/s1600-h/Picture+65.png"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbMy152NorDjJBNH8kU7dnS6H6bBrQIjV-fXSL2XPykejDFToym8K0wDBNTuVf5964dAQN4TUgSprSXx7CVBPopmYIsm9cq-WNSUtBzCsSmgM2QmTP6jO9wUL6P085BsqnV32JvRAR7_p/s320/Picture+65.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403049617441314818" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 178px; " /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Um, yes.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px;font-family:'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">10. Overall, I just really dig the many themes of the video. The concept of Russian human trafficking, the multiple religious references, Where the Wild Things Are influence, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Georgia; line-height: normal; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqAadtS2mHJlfEHbn5ItE6reiV2QnMZYikg5X-eI07yAbQwjJzrnM_nk9D7nto-pBux6R1en8U8NQ0yqGFPZs7D_ytF-R-7p20Ck1_qjJ9sgosd6K0wEjoIqDp0SKfyGJ6V45uffD_-t4y/s1600-h/lady-gaga-red-lace-vma-outfit-lrg.png"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqAadtS2mHJlfEHbn5ItE6reiV2QnMZYikg5X-eI07yAbQwjJzrnM_nk9D7nto-pBux6R1en8U8NQ0yqGFPZs7D_ytF-R-7p20Ck1_qjJ9sgosd6K0wEjoIqDp0SKfyGJ6V45uffD_-t4y/s320/lady-gaga-red-lace-vma-outfit-lrg.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403050519904044866" style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px; " /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">this outfit's manifestation. There are probably a million more I overlooked. </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Video stills are from <span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: arial; line-height: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><a href="http://feelslikewhitelightning.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px;">here</span></a>.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-85714081742196534372009-11-08T19:42:00.000-08:002009-11-08T19:59:55.781-08:00And then you die.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">What am I doing? What do I ever do?</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I tired of writing papers...not the time and effort they require, but the monotony of writing one after another. They don't mean anything. Everyone knows this, but as humanities students we calm our consciouses by discussing why art matters, why thinking about art matters. But every time I do literary analysis the final product is rarely very satisfying because <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">no one gives a shit</span>. No one gets it, and I don't blame anyone for it. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I only feel really good when someone reads and enjoys my poetry, but writing good poetry is so incredibly rare for me. Out of all my work, I'd say I have one really good poem. One. Who the fuck cares if I have on poem that's decent?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I'm not trying to make this into a self-pitying rant. I just wish I was remotely interested in science, or something useful. I should go to law school, probably. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The funny thing is I just wrote a personal statement about why the humanities are important and why I plan to become a teacher. Yay, bullshit. </span></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6280628832279005984.post-39453566774714819052009-10-27T22:19:00.000-07:002009-10-27T22:29:47.800-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Guys, I have the plague. No bueno. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">My least favorite part about being sick is having nothing to do. I've watched the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">entire</span> third season of Mad Men today. I went to one class to turn in a paper and felt like death the entire time. I revised some poetry. I watched <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Down by Law</span>. I finished my book in which a man dies of typhoid in North Africa and now I'm scared. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I feel like my brains are melting from staring at my computer screen for so long. I have an application to get started on, I have lots of reading, I have five poems to write, I want to exercise, but I effing can't do any of these things because I'm delirious. Sucks, man. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">For some reason this has got to be THE BEST week to get sick, though. All my classes but one are cancelled for the rest of the week. How does that happen?</span></div>Mirandahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15265796794280162609noreply@blogger.com0