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verbicide"Some men lead lives of quiet desperation. My desperation makes a pathetic whining sound."[1]
Is there some sort of law that decrees all season finales must have a wedding? Just finished season 1 of Upstairs, Downstairs. Feel peevish and want to slap Miss Elizabeth. God. Get over yourself. And wtf is up with James? What is wrong with these Bellamy kids?
I find I don't have the patience or good humor to watch the second season disc at the moment.
Another night fighting to stay awake and not slump out of chair in a coma. Think will contact my program director about possibly switching to the day section with Jan. Haven't learned a thing, despite efforts to stay awake and pay attention. Walked back to car with C and had a good bitchy vent session. I'm not alone in my view and this is exactly what I hate about school. You're paying a fuckload to take a class and have little or no control over the quality of education you receive. I'm not spending this year in penny pinching poverty to waste my time and energy. Bah.
Weirdly enough, boredom always leads me to bizarrely horny thoughts. Oops TMI. So sat there, shifting uncomfortably, zoning out into all kinds of inappropriate scenarios. Yes, yes, moving on before I get all vividly descriptive and scar people for life. Anyhow, would catch a word or two that seemed relevant and wrench self back into the unfortunate reality. Kept having to coax self out of bolting during break. I hate leaving a class and feeling that I've learned absolutely nothing I didn't already know or could have discerned from the reading.
Right then. Will take frustration out on penguin whacking game. At 3499.4. Whackity whackity whackity!! (Can't believe I can't find that image scanned anywhere; must make puppy eyes at Sarah later in hopes of getting her to scan it)
Mrh. I seem to be in a constant state of bitchface. Also just realized my phone's been disconnected for 4 days. Freaked, thinking it was the damn bill or something, but really, Hobbes had knocked out the wire from the back.
I need hugs and puppies or a random act of kindness.
Oh, speaking of which. Donate a $1 and earn some good karma.
Despite not particularly believing in the power of the zodiac, Ida (*blowkiss*) sent me a rather detailed star chart thingie for kicks that is annoyingly not inaccurate and sums me up as a power-mad, bi-polar, worry-wart scorpio. As much as I don't base my life on astrology, it is a point of interest that every guy who's broken my heart was a Taurus. Hrm.
Reminds me of the time Sarah and I were obsessed with this weird Kabalarian Philosophy website that analyzed your life based on your first name. Neither of our names were remotely anything like us, but when we next entered some random chick names that meant nothing to us (Lucy and Morgan, I believe), they were spot on. Unfortunately the site no longer offers extensive analysis. Well, not for free, anyway. Bastards.
Mowr. Why is everybody asleep?
[1] stolen from a friend's usenet sig
Is there some sort of law that decrees all season finales must have a wedding? Just finished season 1 of Upstairs, Downstairs. Feel peevish and want to slap Miss Elizabeth. God. Get over yourself. And wtf is up with James? What is wrong with these Bellamy kids?
I find I don't have the patience or good humor to watch the second season disc at the moment.
Another night fighting to stay awake and not slump out of chair in a coma. Think will contact my program director about possibly switching to the day section with Jan. Haven't learned a thing, despite efforts to stay awake and pay attention. Walked back to car with C and had a good bitchy vent session. I'm not alone in my view and this is exactly what I hate about school. You're paying a fuckload to take a class and have little or no control over the quality of education you receive. I'm not spending this year in penny pinching poverty to waste my time and energy. Bah.
Weirdly enough, boredom always leads me to bizarrely horny thoughts. Oops TMI. So sat there, shifting uncomfortably, zoning out into all kinds of inappropriate scenarios. Yes, yes, moving on before I get all vividly descriptive and scar people for life. Anyhow, would catch a word or two that seemed relevant and wrench self back into the unfortunate reality. Kept having to coax self out of bolting during break. I hate leaving a class and feeling that I've learned absolutely nothing I didn't already know or could have discerned from the reading.
Right then. Will take frustration out on penguin whacking game. At 3499.4. Whackity whackity whackity!! (Can't believe I can't find that image scanned anywhere; must make puppy eyes at Sarah later in hopes of getting her to scan it)
Mrh. I seem to be in a constant state of bitchface. Also just realized my phone's been disconnected for 4 days. Freaked, thinking it was the damn bill or something, but really, Hobbes had knocked out the wire from the back.
I need hugs and puppies or a random act of kindness.
Oh, speaking of which. Donate a $1 and earn some good karma.
Despite not particularly believing in the power of the zodiac, Ida (*blowkiss*) sent me a rather detailed star chart thingie for kicks that is annoyingly not inaccurate and sums me up as a power-mad, bi-polar, worry-wart scorpio. As much as I don't base my life on astrology, it is a point of interest that every guy who's broken my heart was a Taurus. Hrm.
Reminds me of the time Sarah and I were obsessed with this weird Kabalarian Philosophy website that analyzed your life based on your first name. Neither of our names were remotely anything like us, but when we next entered some random chick names that meant nothing to us (Lucy and Morgan, I believe), they were spot on. Unfortunately the site no longer offers extensive analysis. Well, not for free, anyway. Bastards.
Mowr. Why is everybody asleep?
[1] stolen from a friend's usenet sig
