"I'm not talking about your pigtails, I'm talking 'bout your sex appeal"
I'm. really. sleepy.
Gah.
El jay, let me prove my devotion to you with my drooping eyelids and my puffy, dry eyes.
Today, my friend who's been bugging me about starting up that philosophy discussion club/thing discussed this with me over lunch today. We're planning to have the first meeting of it tomorrow around 6. I'm curious as to how this will play out. Then again, depending on the people going...I could easily write out what would happen. *sigh* Guys are such thick creatures. I'm sorry.
And I am really enjoying my Brit Lit class. We've got to memorize the first bit of the Canterbury Tales in Middle English in a few weeks. I already started listening to audio clips of it because I was a nerd really bored this afternoon.
And whoohoo, the return of the Poet's and Writer's Coalition and their poetry workshops twice a month. Leave it to me to not print out one of my newer poems and have to resort back to one of my more unfinished ones from last semester. It was a work in progress, so having critiques for it was embarrassing. *shrugs* I got some pretty awesome insight on it though. And all-in-all I need to stop being so verbose in my poetry. I tend to throw words at it until I get the feel that I want. Haha, and I guess I'm just an overly wordy person too. :P
But the poetry workshop is a pretty good group of people. All of them are seniors, except me...the lone freshman. They were really friendly though, so there were only a few moments I felt a bit out of whack. The only other chick that was there had this really awesome personality. She was really inviting and you could tell she had all those obscene guy-thoughts floating on the side of her feminine animal-loving side. I dunno, I always feel like I need to pry the two apart or save one section for one group of people and the other for another.
And lol, it was interesting to read their poetry too. One guy always writes short poems about four lines long with horrible suicidal or dark addictive references. That's just his style. And there's the guy who writes really clean to-the-point poems that are difficult to critique. The conversation usually goes on and on about whether or not to include a certain line here or a comma there. We went on for a while debating if one poem needed the abrubtness of ending with "fuck". Lol, it's good, solid writerly discussion, to be sure. And I did walk away feeling inspired to edit or write up some poetry. That's always the point. ^^
I had jotted down a poem real quick somewhere in the short space of time between dinner and poetry workshop:
My plate was a hit list-
That is, until pacifistic unions
With painted signs heard.
Taking up one in each sweaty fist
They couldn't resist.
The drama was just too meaty,
Every globule of spit flying out
A tender marinade of the man-
Flesh they were fighting.
My plate was a hit list.
And now my greedy lips
Wrap around morsels drenched
In an oily womb, recreating non-
Life, headed straight for your hips.
This weekend shouldn't prove to be that eventful. SO, have a youtube video of this new-ish hysterical mock 70s science show called "Look Around You" from the BBC. Curse you sometimes, American television...
Katrina
Ps- I kind of like myself when I'm tired. I'm brusque, humorous, and sarcastic.
Pps- I believe in oxford commas. I always have. Perhaps we should campaign to make them an official rule of grammar. I'd sign the petition.
Gah.
El jay, let me prove my devotion to you with my drooping eyelids and my puffy, dry eyes.
Today, my friend who's been bugging me about starting up that philosophy discussion club/thing discussed this with me over lunch today. We're planning to have the first meeting of it tomorrow around 6. I'm curious as to how this will play out. Then again, depending on the people going...I could easily write out what would happen. *sigh* Guys are such thick creatures. I'm sorry.
And I am really enjoying my Brit Lit class. We've got to memorize the first bit of the Canterbury Tales in Middle English in a few weeks. I already started listening to audio clips of it because I was a nerd really bored this afternoon.
And whoohoo, the return of the Poet's and Writer's Coalition and their poetry workshops twice a month. Leave it to me to not print out one of my newer poems and have to resort back to one of my more unfinished ones from last semester. It was a work in progress, so having critiques for it was embarrassing. *shrugs* I got some pretty awesome insight on it though. And all-in-all I need to stop being so verbose in my poetry. I tend to throw words at it until I get the feel that I want. Haha, and I guess I'm just an overly wordy person too. :P
But the poetry workshop is a pretty good group of people. All of them are seniors, except me...the lone freshman. They were really friendly though, so there were only a few moments I felt a bit out of whack. The only other chick that was there had this really awesome personality. She was really inviting and you could tell she had all those obscene guy-thoughts floating on the side of her feminine animal-loving side. I dunno, I always feel like I need to pry the two apart or save one section for one group of people and the other for another.
And lol, it was interesting to read their poetry too. One guy always writes short poems about four lines long with horrible suicidal or dark addictive references. That's just his style. And there's the guy who writes really clean to-the-point poems that are difficult to critique. The conversation usually goes on and on about whether or not to include a certain line here or a comma there. We went on for a while debating if one poem needed the abrubtness of ending with "fuck". Lol, it's good, solid writerly discussion, to be sure. And I did walk away feeling inspired to edit or write up some poetry. That's always the point. ^^
I had jotted down a poem real quick somewhere in the short space of time between dinner and poetry workshop:
My plate was a hit list-
That is, until pacifistic unions
With painted signs heard.
Taking up one in each sweaty fist
They couldn't resist.
The drama was just too meaty,
Every globule of spit flying out
A tender marinade of the man-
Flesh they were fighting.
My plate was a hit list.
And now my greedy lips
Wrap around morsels drenched
In an oily womb, recreating non-
Life, headed straight for your hips.
This weekend shouldn't prove to be that eventful. SO, have a youtube video of this new-ish hysterical mock 70s science show called "Look Around You" from the BBC. Curse you sometimes, American television...
Click to viewKatrina
Ps- I kind of like myself when I'm tired. I'm brusque, humorous, and sarcastic.
Pps- I believe in oxford commas. I always have. Perhaps we should campaign to make them an official rule of grammar. I'd sign the petition.