oh my darling

Urgh. Running on fumes and Elliott Smith . I recently received rather a rather rigorous coRRespondence fRom the registrar. Half-assed assonance ahoy! Oye...
Anyways, the letter said that I have upgraded my status from academic probation to academic suspension. Shit. So now I need to prostrate myself before the various judges of this sort of thing and write a letter of sorts to them pleading for mercy. If that does in fact succeed, I will have to drop my beloved philosphy class with Professor GB in order to go back on the four class maximum associated with academic probation. He's delightfully "off " and is all about open discussion. A pity. There's always next year.

But now I'm really not sure what I want to do anymore. What else is there? I'd consider photography, but I have no portfolio, and no experience with the exception of one photo class in high school. Although that class was seriously bad-assed, despite the utter lack of funding and working equipment. And its subsequent cancellation the following year. Fucking assholes.
However, the only photos I'm interested in are the ones that require an almost prodigious skill to make money off of. Mmm... crappy sentence. What I mean is that sports photos are boring, and the stuff in Time and National Geographic is almost absurd in its technical execution and subtle beauty. Another option would be music. However, that requires an auditition, so that rules out my cello playing (2 years is simply not enough experience). That leaves my guitar playing. Shaky, at best. But I have a shot if the school is small. How will I make money then? Maybe I'm just making excuses. Maybe I'm being realistic. It's hard to tell, isn't it?

Carpentry then?

"Waking you up to close the bar
Street's where you can tell by the sound of the cars
Bartender's singing Clementine
While he's turning around the open side
Dreadful sorry Clementine"

today is not your day

Got my grades back today. I Failed Intro to Computer Programming. Fuck fuck fuck fuck! Now I will probably lose my scholarship because of my low GPA and cost my parents around $40,000. Fuck. Fucking Woelfl and his hard-as-fuck class. Urrr. It's my own fault. But I am still furious. I don't know how to really sort this out. And I know for sure I'll have to do it own my own because my dick-of-an-advisor couldn't give less of a shit. Ah, well. I hope I'm not on academic probation, because then I won't be able to take the philosophy class I signed up for. And I have been looking forward to an easy class for quite some time. Tune in next week for more adventures.

i want to be peter parker.

Mmmm... poultry. Actually, I'm not so much a fan of turkey. But it was nice to sit and chat with the family and all that. It was even civil. Well, it's never been like how it is on TV. With all the bickering and dysfunction. Is that how it really is? I would doubt it. But right now I'm in the middle of watching Spiderman 2 with my brothers and sister. And it's downright cozy. So I guess I'm done with this for now.

If you're in the mood for something awesome

So I found this on another person's blog, but I figured it was far too fun not to pass up.

By the way, the only thing I remember about "Punch Out!" was losing.

are you mailing anything perishable, liquid, or hazardous today?

Ducking and covering at the moment. Two of my three siblings (and assorted friends of theirs)are in the full throes of a "sleepover" here. That's cool, I guess. Well, it would be cool if there was something to watch on the telly. But there's been enough audio-visual entertainment for today. Probably a solid three or four hours, not counting the Bond movie I went to out of boredom. It was pretty well done, and surprisingly deep for a Bond movie, but Jesus Christ was it depressing. But I always feel terribly depressed when a movie ends and I walk out to the parking lot from the theatre. Oh well. I'd attempt a half-assed review, but I don't much want to bring the dire reprecussions of ruining a movie's ending down on my head though. The finicky wrath of the gods and all. Anyways.

I sent Stephanie Mack a mango. Swathed in bubble wrap and duct tape. Not cause I like her or anything. Uhh.. no. It's just that uhh... there's this lady at the post office right? And one day she was like... uhh... "Wow, you're into Elliott Smith?" And I'm like "XO, sweetheart!" And uhh.. I mail stuff as an excuse to see her. So... uhh... that's why a mango was sent. For that reason and that reason only.

progressive report

It's finals week here at "Mosy", and I'm getting my ass kicked all over the goddamn place. Normally I would bitch about not being able to hack it here and would be thinking about dropping out. But then I'd remember that I wouldn't know what to do. So then I would just stick it out here, and probably whine about losing my scholarship and failing my parents. That's what I would do. Normally. But I'm self-impowered. I'm motivated. I'm organized. I've got a positive outlook. I've got the end in mind. I'm prepared.


I'm delusional.

the sporting life

Countdown to Decemberists show. T Minus seventeen hours, forty-five mintues. I'm all aquiver with excitement. It will be most awesome. The Scotts and I will be traveling down to Chicago and going to the show with Scott's older sister, then spending the night at her apartment there. Perhaps a sexy rendezvous will be in order? Time will tell. But one can always hope.

Anyways, I finished reading one of the 33 1/3 series of books. The one penned by Colin Meloy, no less. A quick overview: the 33 1/3 book series is all about people in bands writing about their favorite album. Mr. Meloy wrote about The Replacements' Let it Be and his life growing up in Helena, Montana, a town not oft visited by bands, let alone good bands. You, dear reader, should read it. There's also one on Neutral Milk Hotel's In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Which you should also read. But I plan on beating you to the punch.

why do I look forward to the weekends?

Home again, home again. And it's Friday night and I'm doing nothing. Should I be doing something? I am at a loss. Errr...

Floating gently in an endless sea of apathy. The water's lukewarm and calm. The sky is silent and grey. The scene is the same no matter which direction you are facing. Just grey sky giving way to greyer waters. There is no one. There is nothing.

My brain is out to get me. And my mind is too feeble to resist. If someone could come over with a bottle of whiskey and a pair of shot glasses, it would be much appreciated. I'll keep the front door unlocked.