miiow

After my shower this morning, I blow dried my hair and it looked fabulous without any more effort than that. It looked so good that I decided to wear some eyeliner, a practice I don't generally employ before I go to work out.

My first lecture was all about how the 19th amendment finally got ratified, so at least half about Alice Paul.

I was NOT the only person in excruciating pain in my phys ed class, which means my pain is not due to my advanced years. Also, I was able to get on the treadmill after class. No running (OW!), but that's what incline is for.

I got my first paper assignment for my ancient political philosophy class. By the time he was done giving instructions, I already had my whole argument worked out. What does that matter? I hella know things about Plato. I KNOW things about PLATO. I love the feeling that I can't wait to get home and write my ideas down and see where they take me, knowing that wherever it is it's going to be kind of exciting AND get me an A. Regardless of the infinite improbability of my ideas being original to the universe, they're original to me and I love being given assignments that make them form into concrete opinions and useful knowledge.

On my way home from school, I saw these old people in a car next to me. Not old hippies, not the type that looked like they were both liberal professors in their day, or anything like that. Regular old people, with bad glasses and blue hair...but when they passed me, I saw the sign in their back window that said, " I DO support the freedom to marry." It makes my heart smile so big when people shatter expectations I didn't even know I had of them by exhibiting the quality of their spirits.

I've had a good day. :)

The internet fails. It fails so hard that even the parts of it which one PAYS to enjoy fail in the amusement category and here I am, bitching about it on livejournal. People are so fucking self absorbed and in search of ego boosts....whatever. WHERE IS THE FUN?

Bring me the fun.

Bitches.

Here goes nothing.

I don't know how I let these things happen.

Tennis is a terribly unattractive sport. It is imbued with a sense of entitlement and an air of superciliousness. My grandpa calls it a a form of art, and I suppose it is, like so many things upon which one may look with disdain. Perspective is everything.

"The man who said 'I’d rather be lucky than good' saw deeply into life. People are afraid to face how great a part of life is dependent on luck. It’s scary to think so much is out of one’s control. There are moments in a match when the ball hits the top of the net and, for a split second, it can either go forward or fall back. With a little luck it goes forward and you win… or maybe it doesn’t and you lose."

Luck vs. chance: One who is lucky is thought to have good fortune. It is possible, even common, to debate the existence of luck. Does one experience good luck, or is it just chance which worked out in one's favor? Can the outcome ever be controlled? Can chance be manipulated to work out in one's favor? Are the consequences of chance encounters inevitable? And how do "fate" and "destiny" fit into it all? A universe which operates on chance would seem to have no distinct or unavoidable path, no temporal inexorability. Is anything supposed to happen or is each event the result of an accident?

Someone once asked me, "So it's a complete accident that I'm meeting you, right now?" The circumstances leading to that encounter were certainly unexpected, but were they accidental? "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." The end of one chapter of my life opened a new one, leading to one of the best weekends of my life and a completely transformed perspective, which I needed more than anything, at that point. I was sure that it was no accident that I ended up in the situation. Things just fell into place, like puzzle pieces, like they were made to fit in the grooves exactly as they did. Was it good luck? Chance with a positive outcome? Fate?

I recently had a similar experience. Certainly not as monumental, as the aforementioned situation was much more weighty in the grand scheme of my life, but the seamlessness of the fragments of existence coming together was eerie. It's left me pondering why things happen the way they do and how much of that is to be ignored. I lead my life in certain ways, according to a set of conditions which currently dictate the way things are. For instance, school. My education dictates a number of things: my location, free time, stress level, amount of sleep, financial situation. I choose to be in school, because I love what I study and want to fix the world (sadly), but even the way in which I found my passion was too exemplary for me to write my education off as something I merely choose to pursue. It seems like destiny, for lack of a better, less dramatic word. So, when these circumstances place themselves upon the grid which operates my reality, I find them hard to ignore.

This all leads to decisions. When presented with circumstance and experience, one must take the information and make a choice. Is this one of those things that is meant to happen? Is ANYTHING meant to happen? What are the consequences of walking away? Will I escape unscathed or be burdened with regret? I don't know that I have the tools to construct useful answers to any of these questions. My only option is to move forward blindly, hoping that my choices are right and that luck and fate have established a partnership.

There's so much peace to be found in leaving things up to time. I guess I'll just wait and see.

***This rant comes to you compliments of Dostoevsky, Woody Allen, and test-induced delirium. Thank you for your patience.

Oh, hi, Livejournal!

I miss LJ. I think I have 2 friends who update, anymore, and I never update, so I never come here anymore, mostly because it's just not that much fun. It used to be fun. I used to enjoy keeping up on the lives of those I cared about who happened to also be on LJ. Not that I don't enjoy keeping up on the lives of those who still DO update, or who are still my friends, but variety is the space of life, ya know? And still, I find Facebook unfulfilling and desire more interaction with my keyboard, at times. Not that I have anything interesting to say. Except that dirty people are sexy. And what?!??!!

Happy birthday, baby.

I do not know how I shall ever survive being me.

At 4:30 this afternoon, I'm committing myself to two years and $20,000 worth of killing myself for knowledge. I'm very, very excited. And the classes they want to give me...oh, man. They're like heaven. Like tiny, three month periods of heaven.

Still, I'm highly intimidated and kind of scared shitless about the possibility of not having a job. However, having recently relinquished control of my life to the forces of fate, I'm trying simply to roll with the punches and let things unfold as they see fit.

I need a dress. Yay for last minute preparation. Argh.

I really need to record how incredibly calm I feel right now.

Oh, it was a wonderful splash.

I'm gonna have to cut a bitch.

I've just watched High Fidelity for the first time.

I'm going to need donuts and Nick Hornby in volumes, immediately.

I keep telling myself that my summer vacation should be productive, by which I mean that I should immerse myself in literature about comparative politics and philosophy. I think I'm ignoring myself. It has been (wow, almost exactly) a year since my ground zero. I think it's time for something new. A complete metamorphosis. Go.

I can't sleep any more. I go to bed in the tiny hours of the morning and then wake up at 9, 10, something like that, having gotten maybe 6 hours of sleep. THAT IS NOT ENOUGH!!! And could explain my mood, lately. But I can't go back to sleep. It is dumb. That is all.

Happy Birthday, Tommy!!!

(Should I say it a few more times?)

If not allowed to get away with things (like turning in projects a week late), I wouldn't DO the things I need to get away with to begin with. So, alas, an all nighter for Sarah just before her last final and a weekend of debauchery in the City of Sin. And yes, asshole, I mean debauchery. (That fucking pissed me off. I hope you know that.) For which I am very, very excited. And still, I procrastinate. How can one think critically of the "right to privacy" when one is so close to 3 months of extreme freedom?

Imagine the freedom. Somehow, the thought of scraping to pay bills again is overwhelmingly appealing. I miss working for my fun, though I do have a lot of fun in the absence of rent. To drink beer WHILE folding laundry and ranting about everyday drama, that, my friends, is freedom. Hhaaa. Why do I bother to learn? I put it to no use. :)


By the way, that was an awful lot of energy to expend just for me to push "delete." Liked the John Kerry thing, though. Funny stuff.


Peace.

This week is kicking my ass and I need a hug. And a beer. And a cigarette. But I am locked in my house for homework and smoking a cigarette could kill me, so I get none of the above.

I didn't get the job. I really wanted that job.

So this is fun, they gave me a bumper sticker, and these people tell me that if people knew how much like Bush McCain really is then it would be a bigger problem for McCain than Rev. Wright is for Obama. That sounds like an excellent theory, and so I'll do my best to help. I can't do much. I can post this livejournal.

http://Bush-McCainChallenge.com/?rc=taf3&r_id=12619-3028021-6trr.j&t=1

Go.

I've decided to abandon my isolationist policy. So...here goes. Wish me luck. It's been a while.

When I was watching my favorite movie for the first time, you were twelve.

My mother's new washing machine seems to have a violent streak of alarming proportions. I am hungry and unmotivated and have so fucking much to do. Oh, finals. Have you ever been so cruel to me? You certainly have never snuck up on me quite as rudely as you have done, this time. Jerks. Just thinking about all the things I have to do right now is making me want to cry. Naturally, I'm going to avoid them for as long as possible so that I shall have to stay up until 4am finishing up.

But I got an interview for the ER. Ohmygod. :)

I win.

http://biz.yahoo.com/ap/080430/earns_starbucks.html?.v=1

I call it my vitamin coma. It's good. And then, when I start to freak out (like last night) and I wonder why I'm freaking out when there's nothing to freak out about and then I remember and I fix it and the next day is a better one.

I kind of fell down on the once a day thing, this past week or so. I also fell down on the making good decisions thing. So I'm not really sure which it is. Maybe one, maybe both, maybe neither. Maybe just drinking too often and sleeping too infrequently and not enough. Maybe I'm just more of a basketcase than I thought. Maybe intensity is nice, sometimes, so it doesn't really matter.

But the coma is back. And this is also good.

I have to kill a lot of time before I'm due at my weight-lifting test so I can go back to work and sit behind a desk. Sigh.

Also, I totally got a FUCKING 98% on my stats test! Boo-ya! And you thought you had gotten the better of me, Statistics. I'll show YOU who you're messin' with.

I have an unexpected couple of days off. This is nice. I can study. I can also enjoy the ten minutes of nice weather we're having before going outside makes my skin melt off. And Marge has a minimum day tomorrow! Yay!! OOh, also, also, I get to go see Steve. Sigh. Oh, Steve, my love. Ya know, I was pretty irritated when they told me I couldn't work, and then even more irritated when they told me I needed a fucking pre-work screen, but this is shaping up to be not such a bad thing at all.

Why am I talking?

Peace, mang.