Ladies, gentlemen, and smizmars!
All this Futurama the past few months has really been making me think of the Historical Society and talking to Jen. That girl loved Futurama, and we'd always talk about it. I'm glad Cartoon Network hasn't shown the saddest fucking thing ever lately. I like not being an emotional wreck over a stupid animated dog.
I'm too anal. Anal and cynical. So I'm fixing both of those. I have way too many notebooks. When I was little, I actually had designated animal notebooks - one for my dog, cat and lizards. I had to make observations, you know. Lately I've had 3. One for writing my random thoughts in, one for being stupid and pathetic in my attempts to be creative with words, and one for drawing knots and putting random things in. Too much specialization. So I'm consolidating to one. The big ass one. The one that kind of reminds me of that annoying english major from my creative writing class who is now in my anthro class, who still manages to irk me. But I don't care, because I'm bettering myself, and if it means that we have a least common denominator of a big notebook, whatever.
My psych group is pissing me off. Those bitches. I'm really glad that class is almost fucking over. I don't get why I had to take intro to psych if I wanted to do an outreach, because honestly, it hasn't helped at all. God damn, psychology sucks. I have too much of my dad in me to take it seriously, I think.
That ridiculously old camera of my grandma's is turning out to be the cheapest thing I own. First it cost nothing to fix, cause it wasn't broken. Add in a few buckeroos for a new case and some instructions that really aren't for it, but are close enough, and we're at about $20. Then today, I bought a flash for it, which, wait for it...was a whopping $14.95. Phew. Good thing I have a job.
It feels like I'm in a rut. I'm really restless. I think it just needs to be summer. Immediately. Like, now. F'real. I want to draw, and shit, but I just have no ideas. And every time I do sit down to draw, it's shitty. Same with writing. Ever have that problem where everything you write sounds like it's already been said? That's what it feels like. Even now. Deja vu like mad, yo. I want to go play an instrument, but I feel stupid going to the music school, because those kids actually know what the hell they're doing and I just sound like a retarded 4 year old playing chopsticks.
This is an overall negative post. Too negative. Life's really not that bad, I think I'm just tired and irritated at those hoors in my psych class. God dammit, they piss me off.
Let's end this on a positive note:
Laundry fresh out of the dryer rocks.
I think my cell phone is finally working after it's day off. The asshole.
I'm too anal. Anal and cynical. So I'm fixing both of those. I have way too many notebooks. When I was little, I actually had designated animal notebooks - one for my dog, cat and lizards. I had to make observations, you know. Lately I've had 3. One for writing my random thoughts in, one for being stupid and pathetic in my attempts to be creative with words, and one for drawing knots and putting random things in. Too much specialization. So I'm consolidating to one. The big ass one. The one that kind of reminds me of that annoying english major from my creative writing class who is now in my anthro class, who still manages to irk me. But I don't care, because I'm bettering myself, and if it means that we have a least common denominator of a big notebook, whatever.
My psych group is pissing me off. Those bitches. I'm really glad that class is almost fucking over. I don't get why I had to take intro to psych if I wanted to do an outreach, because honestly, it hasn't helped at all. God damn, psychology sucks. I have too much of my dad in me to take it seriously, I think.
That ridiculously old camera of my grandma's is turning out to be the cheapest thing I own. First it cost nothing to fix, cause it wasn't broken. Add in a few buckeroos for a new case and some instructions that really aren't for it, but are close enough, and we're at about $20. Then today, I bought a flash for it, which, wait for it...was a whopping $14.95. Phew. Good thing I have a job.
It feels like I'm in a rut. I'm really restless. I think it just needs to be summer. Immediately. Like, now. F'real. I want to draw, and shit, but I just have no ideas. And every time I do sit down to draw, it's shitty. Same with writing. Ever have that problem where everything you write sounds like it's already been said? That's what it feels like. Even now. Deja vu like mad, yo. I want to go play an instrument, but I feel stupid going to the music school, because those kids actually know what the hell they're doing and I just sound like a retarded 4 year old playing chopsticks.
This is an overall negative post. Too negative. Life's really not that bad, I think I'm just tired and irritated at those hoors in my psych class. God dammit, they piss me off.
Let's end this on a positive note:
Laundry fresh out of the dryer rocks.
I think my cell phone is finally working after it's day off. The asshole.