Sitting in class...

Every time I hear the phrase "sitting in class" my mind automatically zooms back to when my oldest brother was in high school and he made up a little lymeric, or rap about sitting in class with gas from the cafeteria food.

Sitting in class
Got a tingling in my ass,
Run to the bathroom to pass some gas.
Sitting, shitting.

Etc, etc. It's a pretty disgusting rap, but it's comical and in good spirits.

jfklasdfj!!!

Dude, where's my brain?

Spring break just ended with a harsh slam of reality in my face. I have less time than I would prefer to have to unpack and do homework. My homework for my documentary class would not be as obnoxious if there was just a way to make it shorter. No matter what, I know I will spend at least 1.5 hours of my time doing the homework. The plus side to the homework is that the documentaries are really freaking awesome.

OK, I gotta get the ball rolling, so here is the express summary of my Spring Break:
1) The Sweet Pea is way too big, but also incredibly adorable and smart.
2) The Dork is popular at school and started playing T-ball. He's number two because he's in the shit. He also looses teeth like nobody's business.
3) I didn't see the Elfling, but I hear he is doing well and such.
4) I didn't get to hike as much as I would have thought.
5) I spent two hours intensively washing and scrubbing my car, only to have it downpour for the next two days.
6) Harrisonburg. Where to begin, my bruises, my memories--or lack there of. To sum it up, I am retiring my green bracelet on a good note.

OK. I am off to unpack and then to watch "Hoop Dreams."
If someone finds my brain, can you please return it? I'm scattered and sore. Tonight will probably suck.

13 hours and 56 minutes and counting

That is how long I have to last until it's time to PARTAYYYYYYYY, Spring Break style. Woo. I decided that sleep was useless seeing as I have class in less than 4 hours.

I have a paper due at noon and a midterm at 1:30. This week has been pretty nice to me, so I am not too worried. I aced my last English paper, which I thought I did horribly, shows how reliable a writer is of their own work. I am confident in the paper I just wrote (and posted on my literary blog), so that probably means it's a piece of shit. Oh well, thus is the life of me.

I remember last semester I wrote this in class essay and I thought, "Wow, I feel good about that" and my teacher wrote something along the lines of, "I'm confused by your point, re-write for credit." I got a B+ on my re-write.

Man, I loathe Thursdays. But I love John Frusciante, those thoughts aren't connected at all. Well in a way they are, my iTunes loves me and just put on his song "Going Inside," it's gorgeous. Download it, love it, worship it.

Sometimes it sickens me that great people, such as John Frusciante, aren't as remembered as Anthony Keidis. Don't get me wrong, I love Anthony as well, a whole lot too. It's just there is so much raw and unbridled talent within John, it's gorgeous. His work is remarkable.

And then there are times when I think that it's because John isn't as well known, or as remembered as Anthony that he's able to create such great pieces of work.

Then other times I think that all I do is think myself into many a circles, it's the life of a Libra. OK, who's caught on to the fact that I am just typing everything that comes into my head. I wonder if I only have my John Frusciante songs playing because the third John Frusciante song in a row just started, I bet I do. A lot of times I accidentally click on one artist and I sit here listening and jamming out to it before I realize.

OK, I'll save all of your eyes. Bye!

EDIT: If XS reads this, can you please tell me how you did that really cool thing with the links to the right of your blog? I think I am blogger LD, I can never figure out how to do anything with this thing.

OK. I need to find something to keep me awake. This probably sounds really nerdy, but I think I take notes in class because I like to write the date. I don't know why, but that's always my favorite part about taking notes and sometimes I could careless about the notes I took. Rather than the fact that it would be a complete waste of paper.

Unless, of course, I wrote the date all over the paper. I'd be like the crazy version of those crazy girls (heh, what?) from high school that worshiped Boy Band Carbon Copies. They would write Mrs. Mindless Carbon Copy with hearts all over their papers. Maybe high school was a stretch, I'd say middle school.

I think I am the only girl I know that didn't have a Hanson phase, is that weird? They just creeped me out. Actually, all the boy bands creep me out.

And seriously, I think my book is better than this and it doesn't make people's eyes bleed.

spring break!!!!!!!

OK. the official countdown begins now, Tuesday (ish, I guess) and I have three days and counting until I am free. FREE. Kind of sort of. I have a ton of homework to do over break, but Roanoke is mostly boring.

Oh, I heard back from the music magazine today (for those who even knew I applied) and the editor said, "you definitely grasp the type of professionalism, yet personable touch we look for." Yea, that definitely made my day pretty freaking awesome.

Now I just have to fill out three extensive forms and I am one step closer to my poor, busy, chaotic life of being a journalist. Woo.

So my spring break plans are as follows (and in importance):
1. Hike as often as possible.
2. Camp out as often as possible.
3. Complete homework before coming back to school.
4. Give Ernest Hemingway a chance. My friend Joe and I have had an on going battle between Henry James and Hemingway. He promised to give James a fighting chance, but only if I promised to give Hemingway a fighting chance. Oh, how I wish to cast a farewell to "A Farewell to Arms." Who knows, maybe I will like Hemingway this time around. I don't know.

OK. I do believe it's bed time.