Breaking Spring

Even educated guesses are still just guesses.

Cheap imitation crab fish have always aspired to be something more. There was never really any hope for them. Really.

Read on the comments of Republica's "Drop Dead Gorgeous" video on youtube: "on occasion and without warning, god can be a cunt." The deity in me is hurt.

Look for my new book: What is Needed: Six Tips to Avoid Traps. Chapter 1: I Wear Sunscreen Every Day

It's the weekend before school starts up again. I have 11 more weeks to go as an undergrad. And it's possible I could make it through without a B, which would be nice, though I fear the poetry class for which I have so foolishly signed up. I have a plastic container full of hot pink, green, yellow, and orange eraser tops; and I'm not afraid to use them.

This past week I slept a great deal. Read Inkheart and Home. Started Inkspell. Watched Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Quantum of Solace, Rachel Getting Married, Synecdoche, New York, Tales of the Black Freighter, Coraline, Pineapple Express, and, of course, Twilight. Much movie-ing. And much watching of basketball. My bracket is totally fucked. That happens when you haven't much of a clue what you're doing. Though I do think mine was better than Mr. President's.

Not really feeling ready for school on Tuesday. But that's all right. I'm never much ready for anything.

Post 666 is coming up in about 4 posts, I think. How exciting!

Spring's begun. I'm sniffling and sneezing every day.

Now why would you want to go and do a foolhardy thing like that?

It is my sincere hope that "foolhardy" does not become obsolete any time soon. It takes a village.

I haven't updated in a while. I'm currently only updating to avoid working any further on my research paper (Post-Colonialism final). And by "working," I mean "researching a topic." And by "researching a topic," I mean "updating my blog." And by "updating my blog," I mean "overusing quotation marks." I am somewhat frustrated, as the assignment directions say that I should choose two or three critical sources for what is apparently the most mini lit review (2 or 3 pages) known to marj. Two or three people? What kind of a conversation is that? An incredibly focused one I'm not sure I want to have is what. I don't want to focus on two or three people. I want to talk to the whole world.

It's only one in the morning, but I'm tired. It's only one more week until Spring Break.

There's no crowd when the apocalypse is going on. The voice from the couch just told me so. My hands are cold, and I've been reading about the Duvalier dictatorship. Papa Doc. "President for Life." Tonton Macoutes. And such ugly ugly happenings. I'll have to save my powers of concision for tomorrow. I should be productive. There are such benefits of productivity. The problem is I have so very little motivation. And most everything has already been said before. This doesn't make me miserable at all. And I'm not being sarcastic.