| My Life is Craziness. |
[14 Apr 2009|03:26pm] |
Truly truly, my life is pure insanity. Not even the good kind that makes your brain explode all over the walls. I've been walking around for weeks in a stressed, numbed out haze. It was walking around at all moments feeling apprehensive and jittery. Today, at least for a few minutes, that lifted and I was self confident that I could do all my homework and that I could do it well to the best of my ability. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it. I picked up a bunch of absurd english classes and now I have to finish them, and then it's over. I am looking forward to that over part. I have so many more things I'd rather be doing. (Gardening, reading books I want to read, studying tarot, drinking, etc... )
Ah well, it's over soon. Wish me the best of luck on all of it. Mostly wish me an appropriate state of mind.
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| Is that a set-up for a bad punchline? |
[25 Feb 2009|02:46pm] |
Following is a writing prompt for my African-American Lit class....
Q:What is the "invisibility" of which the narrator of Ellison's Invisible Man speaks? What does the narrator mean when he says he is invisible? Length: 1 page
A: The invisibility to which the narrator refers is when he blinks at night. We can only assume that that's why the white guy who bumps into him doesn't apologize right away. We can't really fault him, after all, maybe the narrator should have been wearing some neon sort of reflector.
I think this answer would be disqualified because it's not a page in length but probably also because it's as racist as you can possibly get. It is, however, the answer that I wish I could write, more than anything in the world.
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| You're better than that and besides you have no excuses. |
[08 Jan 2009|10:42am] |
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Why do people use the "I'm too old" excuse. I'm calling BULLS on that. Keeping your body in good order requires you to treat it correctly. Eat what you know you're supposed to be eating. Move your body around, get rid of your stiffness. Even if you can't excercise, MOVE. Breath. That's it. That's all there is to keeping a body. And yes I know the arthritis might hit at some point but really. There are no excuses. Because letting yourself decay is not the best option and that's what I see a lot of people do. I'm not even talking old here. I've heard this come out of four people's mouths in the last week. They were 31, 50, 46, and 55. YOU ARE NOT OLD FUCKERS. 85 is old. 95 is old. 100 is old. That's nothing. Just because your memory spans 3 or more decades does not mean you are old. My almost 90 grandmother still gardens, drives, cooks all her own meals. She never complained about not having the body she used to. YOU have no excuse. Stop living in sin and lethargy and do something about it.
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| Stolen from Kahn the Destroyer |
[05 Jan 2009|11:50am] |
Some great wizard's magical messenger, brass-skinned.
A raving prophet, advocating self-mortification and deprivation of the appetites.
A siren-ghoul, who entices the amorous into deadly peril.
A company of desert horsemen, hiding a woman amongst them.
Haha. Bullshit.
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| From this month's National Geo... |
[17 Dec 2008|01:46pm] |
"Finally, on August 6, the two men reached an island - the first land on which they had stood for two years - and their fortunes turned. Hunting polar bear and walrus, they soon had fresh meat aplenty and regained their strength. Threading south through the icy archipelago, they realized by August 26 that they would have to spend another dismal Arctic winter far from home. Using a broken sled runner as a pick, Nansen and Johansen built an improvised lair. There they stayed for the next nine months, sharing the same greasy sleeping bag and subsisting on polar bear broth and bear meat fried in walrus blubber."
How fucking badass is that? They subsisted on polar bear broth and bear meat fried in walrus blubber. Fuck yeah! Those are true men in the highest form. It is men like these that do a credit to humanity and push the thresholds of the human condition. Fucking polar bear broth. Think about that for a while and think about how pitiful your existence is.
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| Pops. |
[16 Dec 2008|10:50pm] |
Context - The cats were chasing each other around today because they have been locked in the house for three days. And dad says to the cats to stop fucking around and picking fights with each other. And I said that they were just playing because they are bored. And he came out with this classic: "Well they can play all they want until someone comes home with no eye." Hahaha. Wtf.
I've got to immortalize this in the Frida Kahlo diary.
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[08 Dec 2008|03:20pm] |
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This winter sucks. It's not even technically winter yet and I am very unhappy. The sun comes up late, it seems and then it hangs around for what seems like only a few hours and then bam it's gone again. It is cold, desolate, and unhappy. I miss my sun, more so than in years past. I wonder what is different this year that I should take notice.
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| There is a term for people like me, and it's sapiosexual, at least in the urban dictionary. |
[04 Dec 2008|12:13am] |
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I'll be honest, I want to have sex with your mind. You make me think in ways I've never thought before. You make me re-examine my convictions and beliefs under the careful magnifying glass of logic. Each new ad campaign or commercial I see I view only through the veil of Aristotle's Rhetoric. When I see you striding across campus I can't help but think of what I would give just to read a book with you! Simply put, I wish your brain was all over my brain doing some of the nastiest shit we could collectively think of.
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| .ppt or .cunt?? |
[30 Nov 2008|05:38pm] |
I hate powerpoint. I don't hate powerpoint because I don't know how to use it. I hate it because I have to use it. If it meant that computers didn't exist, that I was deprived of my beloved internet, and that I had to use a typewriter I would, if it meant I never had to make another frakking powerpoint. I have to make two in a week. This is really not a problem aside from the fact that it is a major inconvenience and it makes me want to shoot myself in the face.
There are so many more useful and productive things I could be doing with my time if I didn't have to make them.
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| A funny thing has happened this semester. |
[03 Nov 2008|10:09pm] |
Last year for my creative writing class I had to read Rollo May's "Courage to Create". He said a lot of bullshit but the gist of it was that creation is a courageous event. It is a terrifying prospect. Potential, infinite as it is, is in itself wholly terrifying. At the time I felt that this was not true. Creation was a wholly beautiful process I told myself. But then again creation has always been easy for me. I wrote pages and pages on why this man was wrong. I poked holes in all his premises and conclusions. With the help of another student in the class we put the book on the black list. Semesters later our professor has still not put it back on the required reading list. I suppose since the last time she did it went down like a nazi in a synagogue.
I am finding that this semester I can't quite remove my foot from my mouth. I am maintaining "alright" grades. By that I mean I have solid B's in all my classes. I have the POTENTIAL (key word here) to improve. Now I know I have that ability. I am not a stupid person. I can write a decent essay. I understand everything that we are doing. Yet, I cannot bring myself to create. I know my own academic potential yet each night that I sit down to do a project I cramp up. I can't write. I can't do anything. I know what I want to say. I know my own point. I have my thesis. But I have no idea how to organize my ideas and then get them out. Creation, even the simple and unimportant task of writing an essay, (something that would have taken me a breezy hour to complete before) now is impossible. Academic creation, of any kind, is not a terrifying journey. Each page I write is like sealing my own educational death-sentence.
I have no idea what is going on with me and yet I can't help but think that maybe the Universe is just exercising a bit of it's ironic wit.
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| Ugh. |
[30 Oct 2008|11:13pm] |
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I fucking hate chick-flicks but sometimes I make myself watch them anyway, as if it's some obligation to my sex. I just got finished both Bridget Jones movies. The first one was almost tolerable but the second one was just beyond ridicules. The editing is shoddy, the characters paper thin. It was an abortion of a movie; yet, i sat through it anyway. What is wrong with me?
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| Hahahaha. |
[22 Oct 2008|04:29pm] |
I have no idea where I found this.
COSTUME PARTY
I'll go as Luke Skywalker
(shirking my duties on the farm)
You can be Princess Leia
(in her white gown, captive)
At first people will wonder if there's something
between us — until they realize
(there is)
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| The immediate aftermath of that last post... |
[21 Oct 2008|11:55pm] |
Dad: "Kayleigh, take that shit down! The police watch everything you do!"
Kayleigh: "Paranoia will destroy ya."
Dad: "I'm serious! There are 'trigger words', stuff that They hear that they pick up on. And then They start listening all the time."
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| My father the arsonist. |
[21 Oct 2008|11:51pm] |
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As you grow older you learn shit about your parents you never thought was possible. Some of that shit is truly outrageous.
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| I think I gave myself an ulcer. |
[07 Oct 2008|02:01pm] |
Yeah. I actually think I gave myself an ulcer from stress. I don't even know why I am having so much stress to begin with. I have a set schedule for work and school. I'm actually cutting down my work schedule so I can catch back up on school work. I have two days off at the beginning of next week for no reason at all. My house is relatively clean. And I have clean laundry. What the fuck do I have to do be stressed about? I don't know. I need to take a chill pill and relax. I've been getting overwhelmed about the most stupid things. I have a very strange suspicion it's because I stopped doing my regular LBRP's/yoga/Resh's while the German's were here. I don't know how my evangelical Uncle would feel about all that "bothersome chanting" as my father once said, but probably not favorably. But now I'm back on track with that. So hopefully I will stop having random panic attacks with no conceivable trigger. No body told me that when I took my 0 that it was the beginning of the end and after I start it will be hard to quit. Aka.. shit will just start happening to you to improve your spiritual development and not much of it is a party.
Oh wait, actually I do think someone mentioned that. Why do I never head advice?
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| As promised - A post about school! |
[16 Sep 2008|01:31am] |
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Um well there is a lot to say about school. Mostly there are a lot of douche-bags there. My classes are alright. I wild about three out of two of them. And the other two are okay. So it's not that bad. But my German cousin and uncle are here so I'm not getting a lot of homework done, consequently I am behind. :( It's a little overwhelming. But it could be worse. I cut my hair. Some of you have seen it, some haven't. But it looks good. And I'll post some pictures but not tonight. That's about it for now. Oh I dropped my religious studies major for now because all my friends and family want to move to Canada and start a commune. That's about it for now.
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| First day of school and other woes. |
[25 Aug 2008|11:02pm] |
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Today was the first day of a new school for me. I am finally at a university. Not that junior college wasn't fun and all... but I am truly pleased to be in a place that will challenge me. If I didn't have complete faith in my abilities I might be a little intimidated at the work load I've taken on, 20 credits. We shall see. I got there extra early and everything to make sure I was going to the right place (I didn't go to the orientation), but that still didn't stop me from being worried. I had butterflies somewhere inside. My body doesn't sit well with change, especially when it involves big crowds (like, perhaps, an entire college of people). It takes me a long time to accommodate and I always feel like I'm going to vomit. My mind tries to convince my organs to be calm and settle down. After all the worst case scenario is still never the end of the world. And even if it was in the most literal sense and the worst case scenario was that I died suddenly, that would be okay too, I think. But despite all my rationalization my stomach flipped and flopped and my heart pounded at heart-attack-speed levels. After my first class (Critical Thinking in Religion) I had about 3 hours before my next one. I went to Panera and just read my text book and tried to ignore my insides. Then I got back on campus and asked someone where my next class was. I was a whole 30 minutes early. Can anyone believe that? I, Kayleigh Smith, was a WHOLE half of an hour early. Fuck yeah! So I sat in the empty chapel for 15 minutes and willed my body to behave, and not explode. Then I went to my professional communications class and sat next to a boy named Noah. He had very blue eyes but also an oddly long face. Also the apples of his cheeks were a little too pink. This combination of factors made him look like some sort of sprite or elf. Everytime I looked at him I had to contain myself. That kind of made me feel better about the whole situation. I may be flying blind by the seat of my pants but at least I don't look like a fairy tale creature.
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