Today, I managed to spend five hours in the library and leave without a trace of evidence. Well, except the tears I shed as I was walking back to my car. Not too many people have seen me cry, and I like it that way. But I think ol' Phil was a witness to my breakdown. Bless his heart.
Anyway, my 8-10 page research paper is due Friday morning. It's Tuesday night. I've spent the past five weeks apartment hunting, and I was successful. I've spent the majority of the latter part focusing on the job hunt. Not successful, which really makes the time I've spent worthwhile. Ha. But looking objectively, if I wasn't looking for a job, would I have worked on my paper? No, but it makes me feel better to be able to cast the blame somewhere, of course. But I always rested assured that I would be okay because, after all, I am Captian Procrastinator the Victorious, right?
I suppose it would be different if I didn't actually have to read the work of literature that my paper will be over. See, my professor has placed us in quite a predicament: He wants us to argue a thesis over a work that we have not discussed in class by an author that we have discussed in class. Well, we've discussed the authors' prominent works, which would be the only ones that we would be able to find enough scholarly discourse on in our crappy library to write a paper of the length he wants. I thought I had successfully conquered the assignment when I chose to discuss Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Aurora Leigh. I read the fifteen-page poem last night and was pleased with my comprehension of it. It occurred to me today, however, that what I read was only about one-twelfth of the entirety of the poem that is also considered a novel. I decided I was going to read the novel from a Norton publication because it also contained criticism of the work that I would be able to use in my research. Despite RacerTrac's claim that the book was available, it was nowhere to be found.
So essentially, my options are to write a paper about something we've already talked about or about something by an author we haven't. I sat down and read a couple works by different authors, and then I tried to find some articles about them. Why is the majority of the works selected for the second volume of the Norton anthology of English literature obscure, non-criticized pieces of crap? It was at that point of exasperation that I threw my three-thousand-page (no exaggeration) textbook into my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, cried/hyperventilated on my way to the car, and took a drive right out of Murray.
When I finally returned, I decided to make tater cakes, with a new and improved recipe, with my left-over mashed potatoes from last night. I wasn't hungry. I'm still not. But I cooked them anyway. And I somehow managed to turn what I thought was a potato and a half into about twenty five tater cakes. And I'm not eating them. They're so greasy, looking at them alone could send a person into a vehement series of heart attacks. I don't know what I'm going to do with them.
Maybe I could give them to my professor and hope they suffice as ransom for my grade that is perilously dangling over the quicksands of failure. Oh, wait. He's a vegan, and the tater cakes contain eggs. I have no money to offer him. And I think he might be gay, so I cannot do him any favors. Looks like I have some work to do. Farewell.
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Thursday, June 24, 2004
the rhythm of a line of idle days
in my ears
artist: john mayer
song: great indoors
Quiet times in Murray tonight. Erin has already gone home for the weekend. I really don't have much to do in the way of reading for class. I read two different authors last night for today, but we only got through one in class today. Class was so horrible. I love QMcQ, but today just took the cake. Anyway, I actually should be working on my research paper. It's due a week from tomorrow. Once I get that turned in, I'll be done with ENG 304. Then on Saturday, I get the wonderful pleasure of moving to my apartment. I'm excited about having my own place, but I'm sure the whole moving-out-moving-in process will be a disaster. Things like that always are. But at least all the big stuff will be coming from home. Where I will not be. Moving out of here shouldn't be too bad. I don't have much. But you know how things seem to multiply like rabbits when you try to pack them. It's comforting, though, that I can make as many trips has I want. I don't have to cram everything I own into a vehicle and hope it doesn't pop out as I'm dodging the 293 Deer. This will be a much different move than I've ever experienced, really. And it will be the last move I'll be making for at least a year, if not more.
I had to find ways to entertain myself today. I started by downloading the InTune thing that John Mayer and Paul Simon did. I did my laundry and napped through most of that. Then I had to go to Movie World to return the copies of Benny and Joon and The Life of David Gale that I rented. (Both are very good movies. They're nothing alike, but they're two very fine films. I could see myself buying both of them. Hmmm...) I went to WalMart for a little grocery shopping. I came back, fixed spaghetti, and settled in with John and Paul. (I feel like I should continue by saying, "George and Ringo." Huh.) That was quite enjoyable, but I tell you, I need to figure out how to get those videos to burn to CD-Rs because they are taking up waaay too much space on this computer. I got a little bored again, so I decided to put the cookie dough in action that I bought at WalMart. I don't know why I bought it. I don't need it. Anyway, that freaking oven is a CL. Compulsive Liar, if you don't know. I knew from my burnt brownie brick experience that the setting on it is a little off, but how can I bake cookies that call for 350 at 275 for 8 minutes when they call for 10-15 minutes and they still burn on the bottom? Something is wrong. Hopefully the oven at my apartment will not have such deception issues. After baking the still-edible walnut chocolate chip cookies, I decided to go far a drive. Mom ended up calling me when I was halfway to Hazel, so I talked to her for a while.
That's about all tonight has added up to. Hmmm. That was a really long, boring post.
artist: john mayer
song: great indoors
Quiet times in Murray tonight. Erin has already gone home for the weekend. I really don't have much to do in the way of reading for class. I read two different authors last night for today, but we only got through one in class today. Class was so horrible. I love QMcQ, but today just took the cake. Anyway, I actually should be working on my research paper. It's due a week from tomorrow. Once I get that turned in, I'll be done with ENG 304. Then on Saturday, I get the wonderful pleasure of moving to my apartment. I'm excited about having my own place, but I'm sure the whole moving-out-moving-in process will be a disaster. Things like that always are. But at least all the big stuff will be coming from home. Where I will not be. Moving out of here shouldn't be too bad. I don't have much. But you know how things seem to multiply like rabbits when you try to pack them. It's comforting, though, that I can make as many trips has I want. I don't have to cram everything I own into a vehicle and hope it doesn't pop out as I'm dodging the 293 Deer. This will be a much different move than I've ever experienced, really. And it will be the last move I'll be making for at least a year, if not more.
I had to find ways to entertain myself today. I started by downloading the InTune thing that John Mayer and Paul Simon did. I did my laundry and napped through most of that. Then I had to go to Movie World to return the copies of Benny and Joon and The Life of David Gale that I rented. (Both are very good movies. They're nothing alike, but they're two very fine films. I could see myself buying both of them. Hmmm...) I went to WalMart for a little grocery shopping. I came back, fixed spaghetti, and settled in with John and Paul. (I feel like I should continue by saying, "George and Ringo." Huh.) That was quite enjoyable, but I tell you, I need to figure out how to get those videos to burn to CD-Rs because they are taking up waaay too much space on this computer. I got a little bored again, so I decided to put the cookie dough in action that I bought at WalMart. I don't know why I bought it. I don't need it. Anyway, that freaking oven is a CL. Compulsive Liar, if you don't know. I knew from my burnt brownie brick experience that the setting on it is a little off, but how can I bake cookies that call for 350 at 275 for 8 minutes when they call for 10-15 minutes and they still burn on the bottom? Something is wrong. Hopefully the oven at my apartment will not have such deception issues. After baking the still-edible walnut chocolate chip cookies, I decided to go far a drive. Mom ended up calling me when I was halfway to Hazel, so I talked to her for a while.
That's about all tonight has added up to. Hmmm. That was a really long, boring post.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
searching nine to five
Ryan's. Cracker Barrel. Pizza Hut. Wendy's. Arby's. Hardee's. Quizno's. Subway. Burger King. Back Yard Burgers. Krystal. Kroger. WalMart. Dollar General. Angel's Attic. Student Support Services. Waterfield Library. Pogue Library. Calloway County Library.
What do all these places have in common? I've applied, or at least inquired, to work there, but almost all of them now have my application on file. I've had interviews at Ryan's, Cracker Barrel, and Burger King, and none of those were very promising. I have an interview scheduled for Monday at Arby's. Maybe I could work with Garnez. We can only hope.
What do all these places have in common? I've applied, or at least inquired, to work there, but almost all of them now have my application on file. I've had interviews at Ryan's, Cracker Barrel, and Burger King, and none of those were very promising. I have an interview scheduled for Monday at Arby's. Maybe I could work with Garnez. We can only hope.
Monday, June 21, 2004
long time, no blog
Here I sit, eating my supper: a peanut-butter-and-strawberry-jelly-on-wheat, fried green tomatoes, baked cool ranch Doritos, and a Coca-Cola. There's a story to all of it. I cut my finger slicing the tomatoes, the first batch of which I burned because I had the stove turned up too high. There's no problem with the Doritos, actually. They're somewhat Holly-inspired, and it's a good thing I'm not kissing anyone, right? I'm dining on the PB & J because as I brought my turkey sandwich to my mouth, I realized where the foul odor was coming from. I'll be returning my Oscar Mayer (any relation?) smoked turkey to WalMart here in a bit. Should've stuck with the deli. Ah, and it has just been brought to my attention that the can of Coke that Dad felt the need to buy me yesterday at Kuttawa has snowflakes, Santa, and "Holiday 2003" in the design. Is it just me, or is it June 2004? It is a lovely meal. Really.
After class, I drove around Murray looking for Kentucky Changers. After about an hour and a half of searching the streets for blue porta-potties, I gave up. I was able to find about five work sites, and I stopped at two. One of which did have a few kids from Poole. The other didn't. Exciting times. Eh.
I then went to my "second interview" at Ryan's with Drug-Lord Brad. Somehow, I feel like the brakes have been put on my waitressing career. I did more job hunting and application getting today. Maybe I could just collect those like baseball cards, and one day when I'm unemployed and starving, I can get an estimate of their worth on the Antique Roadshow. Then I'll go about the world trying to sell my illustrious collection of job applications, and when they're finally sold, I'll be a millionaire. You think that's crazy? Well, it's probably more likely than me finding a job.
But enough of my complaining.
You know, I was thinking. A blog is very unrepresentative of the life of the blogger. There are several people's blogs that I read, and I have never met the person. The only means of my "knowing" them is through what they type on their online publication. And every now and then, I feel like I know them. But how untrue. If someone only knew me through my blog, they sure wouldn't know much. There is so much more that goes on in my life and in my mind than what I put on this thing. By reading this, you don't see much of what makes me me. Some things are too trivial to share. Some are too personal. Some, I just don't feel the need. Do not be mistaken, however. I do believe that writing bares the soul. But some days, like today, I choose not to.
After class, I drove around Murray looking for Kentucky Changers. After about an hour and a half of searching the streets for blue porta-potties, I gave up. I was able to find about five work sites, and I stopped at two. One of which did have a few kids from Poole. The other didn't. Exciting times. Eh.
I then went to my "second interview" at Ryan's with Drug-Lord Brad. Somehow, I feel like the brakes have been put on my waitressing career. I did more job hunting and application getting today. Maybe I could just collect those like baseball cards, and one day when I'm unemployed and starving, I can get an estimate of their worth on the Antique Roadshow. Then I'll go about the world trying to sell my illustrious collection of job applications, and when they're finally sold, I'll be a millionaire. You think that's crazy? Well, it's probably more likely than me finding a job.
But enough of my complaining.
You know, I was thinking. A blog is very unrepresentative of the life of the blogger. There are several people's blogs that I read, and I have never met the person. The only means of my "knowing" them is through what they type on their online publication. And every now and then, I feel like I know them. But how untrue. If someone only knew me through my blog, they sure wouldn't know much. There is so much more that goes on in my life and in my mind than what I put on this thing. By reading this, you don't see much of what makes me me. Some things are too trivial to share. Some are too personal. Some, I just don't feel the need. Do not be mistaken, however. I do believe that writing bares the soul. But some days, like today, I choose not to.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
things are looking...up?
I did indeed get the apartment. I'm excited! (Take note. Stress is beginning wear off.) I went and looked at it yesterday morning before class. You see, the apartment I saw when I originally looked at Brentwood was rented before I decided to go with them. My humble abode will be Apt. H. It's much cuter than I remembered. I would post pictures, but I keep forgetting to bring my camera and USB cord from upstairs to download them onto my computer. I also did a little odometrical research, and the distance from Springer to Faculty Hall is the same as from the apartment. Good times. The weekend of the 4th of July is the official move-in date. Two and a half weeks!
Today, I might have landed myself a job at Ryan's Steakhouse. I had my interview, and the manager lady all but told me that I'm hired. She said hiring should end tomorrow, and then they'll go through applications. I need to call on Friday to find out about positions. She even said the words "I'd like to give you a try." She told me what my duties would be and what my uniform should look like. Doesn't that sound promising? I hope so. I need a job badly. We didn't even talk about pay, but I'm sure it'll suck. A lot of people don't tip servers at buffet restaurants, so I'm going to have to "build a clientele," she said. It scares me, of course. Any kind of responsibility does. But I need the work experience. I need the learning experience. This summer holds quite a bit of that stuff.
Today, I might have landed myself a job at Ryan's Steakhouse. I had my interview, and the manager lady all but told me that I'm hired. She said hiring should end tomorrow, and then they'll go through applications. I need to call on Friday to find out about positions. She even said the words "I'd like to give you a try." She told me what my duties would be and what my uniform should look like. Doesn't that sound promising? I hope so. I need a job badly. We didn't even talk about pay, but I'm sure it'll suck. A lot of people don't tip servers at buffet restaurants, so I'm going to have to "build a clientele," she said. It scares me, of course. Any kind of responsibility does. But I need the work experience. I need the learning experience. This summer holds quite a bit of that stuff.
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