(no subject)
I'm supposed to be doing my homework, but instead I decided to catch up on the livejournal world. And it's made me think, what if my livejournal were my ACTUAL journal? I've been reading what everyone has to say about their lives, and it seems there are some mighty unhappy people around. And many of them aren't shy about expressing this feeling. But even when they do so, it's in a contrived, "for the public" kind of way. I'm not sure if it would even be possible for entries to come across any differently though, because no matter how hard anyone tries, writing with the knowledge of an audience changes things. And I'm not attacking people, and suggesting that what we write is trite or inauthentic; on the contrary, I'm sure my entries aren't exactly sincere half the time, and for the most part I intend them to be that way. I'm just curious what it would be like if livejournals were filled with the kind of brutally honest, unpolished thoughts that appear in real journals. But then, we keep those journals hidden away, don't we? And again, this isn't an attack, suggesting that everyone is lying to one another or not sharing how they really feel. I just think it would be fun, perhaps in the most destructive of ways, if livejournals were completely filled with uncensored ideas. It'd be way more interesting, and you'd really get to know people.
That said, I realize I have no point. So, onto my normal livejournal antics. It's been a while, I'm sure, since I've even posted. Probably because I have little of interest to share. In order to organize what few pieces of exciting news that I have, I offer a list:
-Everyone has heard, I'm sure, because I talk about it all the time, that I'm allergic to my cat and that's what makes me sick. It's good to know I haven't been crazy and don't have chronic influenza.
-I've developed a sort of famous-person-crush on Greg Graffin, and if I were 12, I'd have pictures of him on every wall of my bedroom.
-Vagina Monologues is snazzy, as is my roommate director, and all of the girls involved. Go see the show. It's worth it. It's one of the few DnE shows that I can find little to be critical of, and we all know I'm oft a cynical bitch.
-School, eh, is going fine. Bad grade on a Sharmie test, I assume, but I've given up caring about it. Brit lit, well, I go to it most of the time. And that's a start.
-Oh! Interview with the Quakers of Northern Ireland sometime this week. They're giving me a ring, asking me some questions, and if they like me I get to move back to Belfast. Fingers crossed and a WHOA.
-Writing a senior thesis is too much. I just don't feel like. I'm going to do it regardless though, and it's going to be fantabulous. Even if it fucking kills me.
-Yay for Glass Ghillie, but boo for rehearsals. I hope things come together. We need a little o' that famous Irish luck. Heh. You know, like the potato famine.
That'll do, son. Night!
That said, I realize I have no point. So, onto my normal livejournal antics. It's been a while, I'm sure, since I've even posted. Probably because I have little of interest to share. In order to organize what few pieces of exciting news that I have, I offer a list:
-Everyone has heard, I'm sure, because I talk about it all the time, that I'm allergic to my cat and that's what makes me sick. It's good to know I haven't been crazy and don't have chronic influenza.
-I've developed a sort of famous-person-crush on Greg Graffin, and if I were 12, I'd have pictures of him on every wall of my bedroom.
-Vagina Monologues is snazzy, as is my roommate director, and all of the girls involved. Go see the show. It's worth it. It's one of the few DnE shows that I can find little to be critical of, and we all know I'm oft a cynical bitch.
-School, eh, is going fine. Bad grade on a Sharmie test, I assume, but I've given up caring about it. Brit lit, well, I go to it most of the time. And that's a start.
-Oh! Interview with the Quakers of Northern Ireland sometime this week. They're giving me a ring, asking me some questions, and if they like me I get to move back to Belfast. Fingers crossed and a WHOA.
-Writing a senior thesis is too much. I just don't feel like. I'm going to do it regardless though, and it's going to be fantabulous. Even if it fucking kills me.
-Yay for Glass Ghillie, but boo for rehearsals. I hope things come together. We need a little o' that famous Irish luck. Heh. You know, like the potato famine.
That'll do, son. Night!