Things I Should Do, Preferably Soon

1. Publish some blogs, I have a dozen drafts of posts that never wound up getting published even though they contain points I'd like to blog about eventually, so I should devote some time to editing them/lengthening them. Eventually.

2. Clean my closet. Much like with the first one, I've started a few times but never finished. I operate around this under the Mantra Of True Lazy Slobs: "As soon as I finish, it'll get disorganized again, so what's the point?" Oh, look. A *random noun at the end of this set of asterisks that is implied as being in my line of sight and has thus distracted me, proving to the Internet via the *action stars* how easily distractible I am. I may or may not be exaggerating my distractibility level, but you'll never know if you're just reading this, now will you? Fantastic, my asterisk-actions have gone all meta again, this is turning into insane babbling, yet I've suckered you into reading it. You really shouldn't have started. In fact, go back to the beginning of this tangent and just don't read it at all. You have my permission.*

3. Wow, I realize how damn vague the title of this is, so I could list hundreds of goals such as "Remember to blink occasionally when staring at computer screen" "Eat" "Uncross legs because left foot is currently falling asleep" et cetera... "soon" is too subjective. I suppose I mean "hopefully in the course of the next week but probably extended to the entire summer".

Aaaaand this is a wonderful demonstration of why I cannot set goals. I find a way around my own goals. I want to accomplish them but I don't. This may be my subconscious differentiating the really important goals from the ones I just *think* I want/have to do, or my subconscious is a lazy asshole. I'm going with the latter.

I'm entirely aware of a.) how whiny and pointless this is, b.) how sadly ironic it would be if I drafted this and never posted it. So, I am c.) totally ignoring a.) in favor of eliminating b.) and accomplishing point 1.

I've barely edited this. . . think of it as a raw glimpse into my scatterbrained mind. Aren't you glad you don't have to live here? :D

FIPOGI!

I kind of want to be an elderly Austrian man just so that I could do this to my facial hair.

Summer! (Or, Cake at a Funeral)

It.

Is.

Summer.

Eff Yeah.

What I'm Probably Going to Do All Summer:

Sleep during unreasonable hours.

Eat food with no regard for time-appropriacy. (Croutons and ranch dressing for breakfast!)

Watch movies. (This part doesn't have anything to do with summer, just gives me more time to devote to it.) Memorize them, possibly. (This, of course, is summer-centric. Boredom and juuuust the right amount of OCD, a quotes/trivia addiction, heat and the time in which to do this? I will.)

Read. (Again, for fun. With more time. There's also some school-required summer reading, which leads me to my next point: . . .)

In Which My Plan Actually Works

What's been keeping me from reading Pride and Prejudice for a while has been the following logic: "We're going to be forced to read that at some point. It's so school-y, yet it sounds awesome. Who is this Darcy fellow, and why does he inspire such literary lusting? Might as well wait it out and be surprised then."

Oh, lookie. Two birds flying parallel to each other. I have a stone. Guess how many of the metaphorical birds end this tale dead? Two.

I win.

The Social Acceptableness of Mixing Sad Occasions with Cake

Think about it. Your loved one has just died (hypothetically). Which do you want more right now, to wallow in your own misery, or eat cake? I'd choose cake. (I've been to 3 funerals in my life. Actually, one was a memorial service. And the other was a wake. And the real one was when I was six. None for anyone particularly close to me, either. What do I know?) And yet no one has combined the two. Or have they? *Googles* Alright so they have. It's an Amish thing though. The dead person's relatives were given food (including sometimes cake, which they had their own recipe for, like everything Amish) by their friends/neighborhood/Amish community so they didn't have to cook in their time of mourning. How sweet. But that's not what I'm talking about. Say someone dies. Their immediate family is presumably pretty damn depressed. Make them a cake. Not a sympathy cake, don't frost words onto it, that's cheesy. Their favorite flavor of cake, just give it to them to do with whatever they want. Cake makes people happy. Or at least is a comforting type of food, don't you think?

An unrelated video about Hitler being a painter that segues into cake/death. Maybe this is why I love Eddie Izzard. Our segueing technique is similar. And he is British. And unexplainably attractive.

Things Which Keep My Brain From Melting

Ahhh, I haven't blogged in so long. Every attempt at explaining WHY I haven't blogged in so long prior to this has turned into just completely awful nonsense, and I'm not going to try to make much of a point with this particular post except to say I might not be blogging as frequently here because brain-comsuming finals are-- as their name suggests-- consuming my brain. So, having run out of coherent thoughts for today, I present you with various distractions:

Nerd rap. Yeah. w00t.



Are you scared for your sanity yet? VEGETABLES!!!



Hooray, physical violence!



Horrifyingly adorable, this is.



. . . xD. If you haven't seen this movie, I suggest you fix that.

Pants vs. Shakespeare

I know I haven't blogged here in a while, sooo...

HAPPY NO PANTS DAY!

Not that I participated. Just thought you should know. I wonder if this is international, sort of a "make of it what you will" situation. Because in the UK/other English-speaking foreign lands possibly, "trousers" and "pants" are not synonyms. (I've watched enough britcoms to have figured this out... See? Television is educational, children. *nods knowingly*)

Aaaaannd that's why I haven't blogged. Because now the first post will be THIS instead of a brilliantly deep quote-related blog. **side, since I'm thinking about it: There are certain words that I will always pronounce with a British accent, whether in my head or in speech. Words include: (1.) Any Shakespearian preposition e.g "hast" "wilt" "dost" "thou/thine/thy etc. archaic words that I use to just be melodramatic. (2.) Brilliant-- referring either to exceptional smartness or an intensified version of "good" and (3.) Rubbish. Just. . . rubbish. (4.) Others I use sporadically but am lumping under this number that I can't think of, because there are a lot more than that. I like having an excuse to speak with any accent, it just so happens that my "British" accent is the one I perceive as best. And it's fun. I'm a lunatic, but I'm happy.** There was no point to this except to ease my own carefully-crafted bloggy-guilt, and as you can tell by now this blog is about nothing in particular. Yet I've suckered you into reading it, so let us continue:

Ummm.

Would you like a cookie?

No I didn't make them. I thought they were cool. Thank you, Google Images, for providing VIRTUAL REWARDS. Nomnomnomnom.

"There is nothing so self-righteous nor so right as an adolescent imagination."

(The above: a quote from the wonderful Stephen Fry, who is probably better at most things than a vast majority of people, but who is too polite to say so. And whose voice sounds like *insert simile here*... I am in love with it. That is all. Anyway, besides being eloquently written and beautiful, it's true. I found it on Wikiquote, which I also love, and have been searching for free access in some way to the autobiography it is from. Which, given his style of writing and my obsession over biographies, should be superb.)

The longer version of this quote (I'm paraphrasing. And over-dramatizing. And adding bits that apply to me that I see as universal.) is that all teenagers by nature have somewhat the self-perception of "Nonconformity! Yay! I am an individual, a loner; society is flawed and I'm the only one who can see it. Woe be to they who cannot see above the world they all live in, but I am awesomer than them. If they don't like me, screw 'em. I CAN and I MUST fix this for the good of everyone else. If, in that process, I cease to be a nonconformist, then I am nobly willing to do so. And then they will love me, because I have inspired deep thoughts within the very rawness of their souls and illuminated them to the error of their ways. I CAN and I MUST leave a permanent scar of triumph on the beautiful face that is humanity. *humble bow* *thunderous applause*"

Which is also true. Personally... yeah, it's true. Just because I'm aware of this doesn't mean I'm going to change it. It's probably a violently skewed view of my role in the universe, but this is derived from necessity. Reality is a heartless bitch. It's incredibly probable that I may amount to nothing significant in the big picture of things, history, the world, et cetera. Graduating from U of I with a BA in English, writing, getting published occasionally and having a part-time job at an indie bookstore/coffee shop but being a virtual unknown. (Or worse, which very literally frightens me. The words "Wal-Mart" and/or "desk job" come up.) But I am very important in my own universe, glancing into the universes of people I know from time to time. Seeing how small I am, now in particular, would make my head explode. I acknowledge this, and then gratefully crawl back into my hole of informed nonconformity.

I often make light of how *awful* my life is and how when I am famous, yet educated and traveled and philanthropic and living as a recluse in a cabin in Wyoming somewhere, watching snow fall non-picturesquely (because pretty snow is cliche), and grayly and dimly ponder the light flurries of February in Wyoming whilst typing on a secondhand vintage typewriter the ensuing memoirs encompassing this period of time in my life will be dramatically heart wrenching and inspiring and all the other adjectives truly good memoirs actually are. This is partly to be satirical of all the other teenage stereotypes, and partly because it's something I desperately want.

So, did that just inflate my ego a little? Of course. Stephen Fry used the word "right" whilst describing something applicable to me.

FIPOGI:

A Soapbox-Sadie Six Words

It's 6WS! So, my six words:

Good judgement: proofreading posts while calm.

The explanation for this is I wrote a particularly long and curse laden and incoherent blog post ranting on about people who underestimate/mislabel kids with autism. (or who are just generally twits whom I don't like anyway, but whose chronic verbal vomiting on this subject gives justifiable proof to this opinion...) Which I suppose is my "cause" if I had to pick one other than the universal type ones (E.g world peace and the environment and so on). Which I think is understandable because my brother has autism, so it affects me and the people I care about, moreso than like, being an amputee does. I don't know any amputees, even though there are probably charities for them and it kind of sucks (being an amputee, not having charities... God, why am I even using this as an example?). I'm strongly against the likes of Jenny McCarthy and the people that treat autism like it is WRONG and should be CURED, like it's that black and white. (And here's where it gets into the rant-y points about conformity and the things that are wrong with society in its treatment of disabled individuals and other cliches, so I'm stopping. I feel that way, yes, but I can't say it in an interesting and eloquent enough manner to allow myself to let the Internet see it.)

Okay, original point round-up time: I'm spectacularly glad I proofread for once.

FIPOGI!

THIS: When even blatant Photoshoppery can't detract from the awesomeness.

April (Month) and Fool (Me)

Well hello, cyberspace. Happy April Fool's Day.

. . .

I was going to turn this post into some kind of trick, as per the goal of the holiday states, but I am in no mood or mental capacity to do so. I feel like death in a can. It's a beautiful day outside.

Why I chose "in a can" as an intensifier I have not a clue. I Googled it to see if it was some kind of expression or something, but most of the results claim that either Red Bull or processed food is the above mentioned--it's not a more eloquent synonym for "OMFG *drool* *spazz* *headsmack* *die*" as I had hoped. Bleagh. In other news: today is the first day of Script Frenzy. (like Nanowrimo for scriptwriting. We'll see if my failure at novelwriting is any indication of the results of this...) Which I will foolishly be attempting. Which means I may not blog as much in April. I have a few drafts of posts I may finish just to give this blog an air of consistency, but otherwise, see you in May.

FIPOGI:

Just in time for Easter! LULZ! :-D


(I get it, not funny. . . April Fools. Yes! I got at least one in before I die a whiny and flu-related death. In a can.)