Emerging Slowly From the Cave...or how it felt to leave my dorm this morning.

So at least four people asked me why I was so happy today. I've decided that my mood is ENTIRELY too dependent on the weather. I need to work on that. You'd think this would have occurred to me before, as Michigan weather is not known for being kind...but maybe I've just never been this sick of cold weather before. Either way, I've decided I'm going to find something to be happy about every day for the rest of this week. Since the nice weather isn't supposed to last, this might become challenging, especially since my class work load this week is a killer, but I am determined. If I really get in a slump, I can always just read the paper or watch the news...somehow I always come away from that both extremely horrified and incredibly relieved for my life.

:)

So my sound poetry prof overheard me complaining this afternoon that we had to be in class instead of outside enjoying the weather...so she made me write a love poem to the class; basically outlining why I love the class so much. It was slightly horrifying; the poem was very very horrible, which is I guess what makes it funny. Tim now wants me to write a satirical love poem, one he can give his gf on valentines day. I am now very incredulous and suspicious about the function (dysfunction) of that relationship...

Meetings, meetings meetings...I've made a discovery this week. I hold Elizabeth Bennett as my all-time favorite Austen heroine...and this week has made me realize another aspect of why that is. Elizabeth is quite aware of - and deft - at playing the social games; small talk, posturing, basically standing around and talking about absolutely nothing. She plays this game to a point, but simply can't help but point out the ridiculousness of it all. I admire that so much...I feel like I waste so much time sitting around talking about nothing, or listening to others talk about nothing. It's so frustrating...I get these incredibly strong urges to suddenly say something completely inappropriate. My family is forced to listen to these outbursts at home, when I'm in the mood, or just bored...but I don't often give into this anywhere else. I guess it's the fear that I'll sabotage myself; totally ruin my image and therefore my future success. Stupid. So I've now decided it's unreasonable for society to force me to squelch my inner genius and wit, simply for image and appropriateness.

:D


So as I was waiting for a nurse to become available to take my blood last Wednesday, I got into a rather fascinating conversation about peanut butter with a fellow donor sitting one chair away. Suffice it to say, I was a fan, and he was not. I don't remember how this conversation began, but it was extremely random and hilarious. I simply don't understand the mind that is not completely enthralled with pb, and this guy seemed equally confused about the mind that is. I hope I helped him come to some kind of understanding...but I doubt it. I think he's one of those unfortunate individuals who will never be able to rid themselves of their unnatural predisposition against pb. Well, I can only try to save them - the rest is out of my hands.