Brain not functioning, try again later.
1. I miss having a disposable income. I owe my mother heaps of money from phone bills and buying books, and I need to save up to buy my books for next quarter. This means that I can spend about nothing for the next two months. And I also have to start saving up for Africa, unfortunately, and Dad's decreed that I have to get a "real job" this summer-- whee flipping burgers. Or, rather, shoving burgers into a Phlegethon of rancid fat. I earn less than minimum wage now, unfortunately, so even that would be a step up in everything except employee satisfaction.
2. All my classes next quarter, besides the rather awful-sounding required one that has something to do with my faith in Jesus (I am really looking forward to graduating from religious academies and settling down to be happily spiritual without dogma, thank you), are theatre classes. I have a Comedy class, Acting II, and ProPrac. I also have class from 9-5 and no break for lunch, three days a week. I'm either going to have to learn to start eating breakfast or lose a hell of a lot of weight.
3. Dear Otonashi Philip Riemann,
You, sir, are the loudest puppet I have ever typed for. You've gotten a few extra chances at play this week and apparently you could not wait to be let out. Yes, I know you're a fun puppet; yes, I know that you're amusing to type for and get into interesting conversations and arguments with frequency; yes, I know you're cute and cuddly and your life is interesting enough to inspire fic. I don't care. Shut up, for the love of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and give someone else a chance. You are loud, and you are drowning out other headvoices. And I don't just mean drowning out Fiddler or Mabel or the ones who might not talk anyway-- you are drowning out Rhad. When you drown out Rhadamanthos Hades, you are too fucking loud.
Love,
Your typist.
4. In case I haven't mentioned it, I am spending two weeks in May seeing RENT, La Boheme, My Chemical Romance, and Loreena McKennitt. I am equally excited for all of them (except for the Puccini, I don't like Puccini much). I am going to die of musicgasming.
Wow, I talked about money, school, and roleplaying in a list format. You'd think I was metaphor or something.
2. All my classes next quarter, besides the rather awful-sounding required one that has something to do with my faith in Jesus (I am really looking forward to graduating from religious academies and settling down to be happily spiritual without dogma, thank you), are theatre classes. I have a Comedy class, Acting II, and ProPrac. I also have class from 9-5 and no break for lunch, three days a week. I'm either going to have to learn to start eating breakfast or lose a hell of a lot of weight.
3. Dear Otonashi Philip Riemann,
You, sir, are the loudest puppet I have ever typed for. You've gotten a few extra chances at play this week and apparently you could not wait to be let out. Yes, I know you're a fun puppet; yes, I know that you're amusing to type for and get into interesting conversations and arguments with frequency; yes, I know you're cute and cuddly and your life is interesting enough to inspire fic. I don't care. Shut up, for the love of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and give someone else a chance. You are loud, and you are drowning out other headvoices. And I don't just mean drowning out Fiddler or Mabel or the ones who might not talk anyway-- you are drowning out Rhad. When you drown out Rhadamanthos Hades, you are too fucking loud.
Love,
Your typist.
4. In case I haven't mentioned it, I am spending two weeks in May seeing RENT, La Boheme, My Chemical Romance, and Loreena McKennitt. I am equally excited for all of them (except for the Puccini, I don't like Puccini much). I am going to die of musicgasming.
Wow, I talked about money, school, and roleplaying in a list format. You'd think I was metaphor or something.