(no subject)

For some reason, my iTunes shuffle has yielded up to me the strange combinations of "Pussy Control" by Prince and follows it with "A more humane Mikado never did in Japan exist."

This causes me to question with a great deal of confusion, just what the hell is going on in my brain.

Roomie-watch: Apparently my roomie will only talk to me tell me that "Men are shit." This means that she will be sleeping in our room. As coded communications go, it's not that bad, but I have to say I think she kind of brings it on herself. She decided to date boys who live on the same floor as her- that's just not a good idea. You have no option of running away from each other if things go sour. (It also means I get endless knocks on my door asking where my roomie is.)

I have things to do, and some of them have been accomplished, while others languish undone. I will never, ever again complain about the Swelles system of letting people take their finals at any time they want inside a certain period. It's kind of wonderful, and I could have gotten a whole lot of stupid stuff out of the way by now.

In which a nudist thinks too much.

"We are both unwilling to speak unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room." Jane Austen, P+P.

It strikes me sometimes, that the ideal attitude a person (or, perhaps just an American) should have towards the opinion of others is complete indifference. One is supposed to judge a situation for oneself and then act as one thinks is right, the thoughts of all others be damned. This is certainly portrayed often enough on page and screen to be admirable and correct behavior. (And, yes, to a certain extent, I do realize how silly it is to have an utter disregard for the feelings of the masses called "admirable." But apparently the masses must like being told to back the hell off...)

This is however absurd. At least, I certainly don't act like that. I do many, many things, foolish and wise, on the advice of other, or to win their approbation. I'm not independent in a large variety of things, and were I to attempt to live as if I were, the results would lead to exactly the kind of exile from polite society that I work so hard to avoid.

However, when the lights are off and the theater's empty, like today, I will still sometimes indulge myself.

In short: I've been lounging about in a towel for the better part of three hours now, my hair is completely dry, and I am not getting dressed again any time soon! Take that, oppressive, patriarchal, pants-wearing society!

Oops, roomie's back.

(Note: this started out as a post about how, after receiving a small amount of praise for my writing, I was scared to write something again lest I be proved a fraud. Instead, I have exposed myself as a part-time nudist, which is infinitely less embarrassing. Though both sort of work on the idea of being stripped....)

(Note the second: So, in the fairy tale, "The Emperor's New Clothes", essentially the Emperor spends the entire time being complemented about how good he looks naked, and at the end he's unhappy about this? Wahnsinnig.)

(no subject)

As it's finals, I've gone into my own full blown procrastination mode. I am going to now randomly spew forth into the universe things that I have thought of in the last few days, and see how they appear on the page.

1)blackwell posted a little while back about how her "365 Day Challenge", in which she would take and post a picture every day for a year. She came up with something that rather struck me at the time: "A 365Days project, any daily project really, seems to be about training your mind and body to work when you want it to work. It seems to be about training yourself to be inspired, to create when you are tired and hungry, when you are distracted, when you are sad, when you are stressed. At first, the work you do when your stressed and upset and uninspired isn't very good. Then, over time, you learn to work when you are sick. You train yourself to do good things even when you don't feel like it, even when you'd rather be in bed. You train yourself to be quicker. You learn how to do a decent job in a dash. You learn tricks and techniques and then you are in the drivers seat. You can bring inspiration on command. You can deal with setbacks and pitfalls. You start to see compositions, or possible compositions, wherever you go. You start to see possibilities."

This makes me think about my writing. I blog every day, but I do not write beyond that most days. I don't like that. I invest a great deal of pride (far too much, really) in how well I use words, but I am not structured about it and I am not really getting on with it. It makes me feel stupid not to be doing what I want to be doing, and what I love doing. So, I'm just going to shut the fuck up about it and do it. I'm going to write something everyday for the next year. I just need to get it done if I want to be who I want to be, so it's going to happen. I do not pick genre, theme, or quality. 500 words per day at least.

2) Austrians cannot touch type. I have not seen anyone here yet, aside from those employed as secretaries, who can touch type, or even really use all their fingers while typing. It is honestly shocking to me: I'm in a university setting, for the love of God! These people have to write huge ass papers in a variety of languages, and they are adding hours upon hours to their total time burden by the inability to type. Doctoral candidates and undergrad students alike are incapable of doing what they need to get done because of this.

3) Plastic surgery among the stars scares the hell out of me. Given that, as an actor, one's face is an invaluable commodity for one's work, what sense does it make to risk it all to go under the knife to correct minor natural flaws? Don't the risks outweigh the possible gains? Even if the surgery is perfectly successful, there are still the possible problems of having a face that is just slightly off for the rest of your life. Disturbing, disgusting and degrading. I cannot find a better way to put it.

(brief pause while the author fishes out a coffee mug, fills it with java, and returns to her whining)

The author has lost her momentum.

I'll get back to you more about this tomorrow.