just ragin'

God, I suck at posting. Lately I can't write decently. 

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?  

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. 

PS Whenever I feel down I look at this picture: 

I think it's because I imagine myself as red shirt dude.

Bahh Telephone is out guys:

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....

I almost forgot how much I adore Beyonce. I like this:

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 Invisible Man and the autobiography of Malcolm X this week...that's 1200 pages or something. What's wrong with me? No one should ever be completely caught up in a class like that.

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 know 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?

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

I'm currently on no medications. Fuck that. I'm seeing a hippy psychiatrist and she is awesome. 

Other than that, lately I just sit in my freezing house and read. 

Image Dump

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. 

Quote of the Day

 This is my favorite passage from a really great post-modern book, White Noise by Don DeLillo:

"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."