Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Let me introduce you to my new favorite meme.

source--You should check this site out.  It's beyond hilarious.

The ray of light this shines penetrates even the gloomy shadow of my end-of-semester homework pile.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

The Weapons of War

I think some explanation of where we've been and where we're going to be for the next few weeks is in order, before we drop of the face of the earth.

For those of you still in school, you know what great fear looms before us in the next few days.

For those who have graduated to real life, let me be explicit. Finals are coming up, and as you may remember, lives hang in the balance. Our futures are to be exalted or ruined by the level of brilliance we can muster at at 8 AM every morning for a week and by the flick of a single red pen.

There are girls already permanently encamped in our dorm's basement. They have staked their claim on their particular piece of table and set up a permanent residence, leaving their coffee mugs, books, computers, planners and schedules strewn about like so much detritus of war.

One girl has taped her carefully typed schedule to the wall above her section of table. I stopped to look at it the other day. She has every minute until the end of the year planned out and it's color coded. It made me want to run upstairs and put my head under my pillow.

Susan is one of these permanently encamped basement girls. She has secured herself a nice cubical and intends to fight tooth and nail should anyone challenge her territory.

I've built myself a fox hole elsewhere and have stacked my books up the wall in preparation for a long siege.

Needless to say, we may be absent from the Blogosphere for a week or two.

Who could find time to blog when the call has come down from the Akropolis, telling us that it is time to pick up our shields and defend ourselves? Asking us to open our veins and find out how much black ink runs in them?

After finals, however, we should be back with a summer's worth of free time to fill the internet with a wealth of words. Susan will be going home . . . and I?

I am going to Paris!

I will be there for two weeks and will try to do a at least a few posts from wherever internet is to be found.


Until the outcome is decided,

                               farewell bloggers.


source

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Introspective Stupidity

I've been feeling a bit funny recently. Here are the symptoms I was experiencing:

  • frustration
  • anxiety
  • angst
  • disinterest in my studies
  • making faces like this:
  • Just for the record, I don't chew pencils.  (source)
  • being easily annoyed
  • general discontent
  • specific discontent
  • even higher tendency to daydream than normal

This morning, I concluded that this was just how the rest of the semester was going to be.  Because apparently the last month of spring semester just stinks.  It is a stinky stink-hole of paper-finishing, summer-wishing stink-ness because it just....IS. 

Then I sat down and thought about it.  (Actually, I thought out loud to Tyler-Rose about it, because thinking aloud makes everything clearer.)  And I realized something: 

I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANY FICTION IN OVER THREE WEEKS. 

So OBVIOUSLY that is the problem.  I mean--really?  For someone as introspective as I am that shouldn't have been so hard to figure out.


What happens when you take a break from writing?

Friday, April 6, 2012

Follow Friday



The Feature & Follow is hosted by Parajunkee of Parajunkee's View and Alison of Alison Can Read. The lucky, lovely and illustrious features for this week are The Romanceaholic and The Talking Tea Cup.  Don't forget to follow them so they can the full measure of their potential glory.

This week's question: Have you ever bought a book BECAUSE of a bad review?

I think the answer is probably yes, however I'm having trouble summoning up the name of the exact book. Generally by the time I'm buying a book I've already read it twice, so I've formed my own opinion, but sometimes I do look at user reviews on Amazon. If the reviewer is in a snit because the word "vampire" appeared in the text despite the fact that there is a well-muscled, pale, topless guy on the front with blood dripping off his fangs, I feel I can safely discount their opinion, especially if I'm looking for a vampire novel. Also I know I've bought books (or at least checked them out of the library) when the first reviewer in the list's complaint was something along the lines of "The story is too slow moving and there is too much description and too much time expended on character development instead of action." I like books like that. Big, ginormous, slow-moving tomes with lots of character development, lots of color, lots of description, and brief spurts of action now and again.

As to professional reviews, I admit (without shame, I might add) that I only rarely read them. Mostly because I've yet to find more than a few where I agreed at all with the reviewer's assessment. Usually they leave me wondering if we even read the same book.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Pipes and Drums

This guy was not there,
but I kind of wish he had been.
There was an awfully
cute/smug drummer, though.
Last Wednesday an energetically green poster appeared on the door leading out of the stairwell in our dorm hall. I was hauling my body and my books up the stairs for maybe the forth time when I saw it. It stopped me in my tracks. I stood there on the stairs holding myself upright on the railing so I didn't fall over from the weight of the books I was carrying and read it, grinning the whole while. Three or four people went in and out of the door and gave me funny looks as they passed. Wrapped up in my own excitement, I ignored them.

As soon as I finished reading it new life came into my tired and bedraggled limbs. I launched myself up the stairs, yanked open the door and dashed up the dark hallway. I let my book bag hit the floor of my door with a thunk then threw myself out into the hallway and stopped in Susan's doorway.

She was laying on the floor reading a thick text book, but looked up when I arrived panting in her room.

"Pipes and Drums," I said, breathlessly.