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January 30, 2003
I cleaned all of my vertical blinds with oven cleaner today (about 50 "plastic" 3 foot tall blinds....bleh) (oh and don't ask about the oven cleaner)...
and now I have a red, shiny, itchy circle -- about the size a cigaratte burn would make -- on the middle of the back of my hand.
No I did not wear gloves.
Am I dying?
posted at 2:03 AM
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January 28, 2003
It turns out that I wasn't the only one who thought those stories were shit. I walked into class yesterday and there were a couple of people (including one guy who writes incredible stuff) completely trashing those stories.
"Come on, this isn't a fifth grade english assignment" he said.
I wanted to clap and say "fuck yeah!" but instead, I said "thank god I'm not the only one. I was afraid I was going to turn out to be the bitch of the class."
Instead, I turned out to be the nice one. How'd that work out?
The rest of the people, instead of giving really useful criticisms, discussed why they hated the stories. They gave a lot of negative criticsm followed by more negative stuff. It was almost too much. I was getting so frustrated. I would be so mortified if someone discussed my stuff in class the way they did.
I mean, isn't it taught in beginner english that when you discuss works with the author, you offer suggestions...like "I notice that.." "I wonder if..." maybe it's just me.
There is one girl in particular that monopolized a LOT of the discussion time...pontificating on her ideas of the story, spouting off on particular passages of the story that didn't feel plausable to her ...all of which were so trivial that it didn't matter to the structure or the character development or anything.
I was getting so angry.
But anyway, there's this girl in my class that I'd totally be hot over if I was gay. She's not the brighest apple in the bunch but she's really cool and has cool glasses and wears cool clothes and has bright magenta streaks in her hair and has a killer body (way curvy!) and her name is all exotic. Totally indie rock and she's so cool. I might make her a character in one of my stories.
I had a dream last night I got attacked by a giant cockroach with wings.He smacked onto my chest and beat his insect wings 40 times and flew back into his cage.
I woke up and my chest is sore now.
I'm so afraid.
posted at 3:07 PM
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January 26, 2003
I've been trying to write a constructive criticism paper in response to two manuscripts from my writers workshop class.
It's incredibly difficult because these two stories are...oh my god, what's the nicest word I can use? Pedestrian? (that sounds pompous) One is a slapdash stories that have no coherent progression, the other is a preachy (literally) god story that spends a great deal on a character that has no significance on the story as a whole.
I want to be helpful to these people. I don't want to say "I hate what you've written." I may be bitchy but ultimately, I'm not mean. I want to help people get better...I mean who knows, with the right advice, they may be able to hone their craft into a finely tuned novel.
I don't know.
It's really, very difficult to not say "this sucks." I'm taking the challenge of trying to be kind. I say a lot of "This transition is awkward. Instead of (this) perhaps you could try it like (this)? "
A lot of "Instead of ...Perhaps you...'s" It softens the blow, yes?
I can't express to you how bad these stories are, though. In one of the stories, the entire first two pages are similes. No joke. Her eyes like diamonds, her hair like black tar, her hips like a pendulum...you can only have so much simile or metaphore without trying not to giggle.
I get the point already!
But, there's the rub. I want to laugh and I want to poke fun, I want to ridicule what they've written yet my nice side is fighting my devil side and I can't bring myself to do it.
What's happening to me in my old age?
Oh god, what are they saying about me?
I am still humble. I know I suck :)
posted at 3:54 PM
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January 23, 2003
I got my first math test back yesterday.
I got a 98 bitches!!!! The second highest grade in the class.
I stuck it on the fridge for everyone to see.
So, not only am I (so far) acing my math class but the teacher is the coolest teacher I have ever had...in a non-english environment.
He has, on two occasions, brought a book to class by my favorite sci-fi author, Robert Heinlein. THEN, on Wednesday, I walked up to get my test and he said "HEY! WAIT A MINUTE!" I turned to look at him, confused..."I LOVE THAT SHIRT!!! THAT'S GREAT! I LOVE IT!"
He was so excited.
I was wearing my Misfits: fiend club t-shirt.
How awesome is that?
I swear to god I was just talking to someone about how I've never had a crush on a teacher ever.
I was sitting in class, thinking, I could actually think that I had a crush on you.
I feel so proud. My first (though not very strong) teacher-crush.
I'm (nearly) hot for teacher.
Now if he would just stop wearing sweatpants to class.
*shudder*
posted at 10:40 PM
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January 22, 2003
I just watched the movie Signs.
The lights are out.
I'm too scared to walk the 800 (or less) square feet to my bedroom.
WUSS!
Those aliens looked like zombies.
Have I mentioned how much I dislike zombies?
(edit: 1:56am)
reading the message boards on IMDB remind me why I am glad I am no longer a film student. I am so irritated by film students and pompous assholes who know how to use big words.
With that said, I also really really really can't stand people who say "I hated this movie cos it sucked."
Um, okay?
To that I say "I hate you because you're stupid."
Gah. Now I'm too disgusted to be afraid of the zombies in the dark. I'm going to bed.
posted at 1:54 AM
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January 20, 2003
I'm in the process of making a Dr. Who scarf. When I am done it will be more than six feet long and probably summer-time. I hope I can finish it in a few days, but I'm not counting on anything.
Went to a dinner party tonight at my friend E and A's. A is studying to be a chef so she's trying out some cuisine on us before she attempts to try it for her professor.
I can't express to you how important it is to become good friends with a cook. You will become fat, but it'll be a long, delicious road possibly paved with chocolate and goodies.
Chocolate dough pie crust with a chocolate macadamia nut brownie type coconut rum filling. So tasty. So hungry. *drool*
And watched the golden globes. I'm a sucker for it, I know. I shouldn't be, but I am. Beautiful gowns, beautiful people, long winded crazy speeches from people I laugh at. Interesting fun.
Though, the thing that brought my day down was learning a lot about the prision situation in North Korea. With all the talk in the news of the Koreas lately, I've been wanting to learn more about what exactly is happening. I've learned a lot about Soon Ok Lee who is a survivor from a North Korea prision. Terrible things are happening and I can guarantee that nine out of ten people would not be able to tell you anything about it, or even know what you are talking about. They should
"North Korea is communist??"
I get so upset and I get so angry about people, why no one will do anything, why our goddamned news doesn't expose this every day, why absolutely no one says anything...it's almost too much. It's heartbreaking because you can't save the world. You can't prevent death. You can't prevent dictators killing their countries. You can't prevent suffering.
When I was a kid, I would get so upset about the injustices of the world that I would cry and cry. I couldn't understand how people would be so horrible. My mom told me then, you can not save everyone and everything without losing yourself in the process. It's such a terrible feeling not being able to do anything.
It pisses me off that there are people who would rather NOT KNOW what's going on in order to live their happy little lives. "It's too sad, I don't want to know."
How can you live so ignorantly?
Is it really bliss?
Can you really be so stupid?
I have to stop now, because I'm working myself up and I have to sleep soon.
Please read something about what the hell is going on in North Korea....
posted at 12:58 AM
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January 18, 2003
Miasma and Pictures are up now.
I hope you don't think I suck... and if you do think I suck, you know what? You suck!
Anyway.
posted at 9:11 PM
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January 17, 2003
Hi. If you've come to me via my yahoo profile, I apologize.
Imagine my embarassment....people I haven't met before but yes, have to work with reading me complain about art and my life and classes and teachers.
I honestly didn't realize I had my webpage listed on my profile.
Yikes and away.
Nice to meet you!!!
Ha!
Others to the site, what happened was some (several?) someones from BathHouse came to my site today :)
That's good for me, isn't it?
"I hope I don't come off like a bitch...."
Too late, I think, isn't it, ms. amanda?
Oh I laugh and I laugh.
posted at 1:56 AM
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January 16, 2003
So it turns out that I'm on the staff for the graduate creative writing program's on-line journal of the literary arts, BathHouse.
I got an email today from one of the people in charge saying to come on in and join....
What an amazing honor, considering I'm not a graduate student nor do I think I'm graduate student caliber, yet.
On one hand, I'm incredibly excited and happy about this...and it's one more step to me getting accepted for grad school (if I decide to go there. Uni. of Wisconsin-Madison is looking pretty inviting because not only are you required to teach classes but they pay you AND tuition is free. The downside is that they only accept 12 people for their fiction dept. every other year).
On the other hand, I'm fucking nervous. A lot of the stuff they have on their current site I think is overblown tripe. It all reads to me like someone is trying extremely hard. I want to say because it's my untrained brain not understanding the whole process which, in turn, makes for a better project. Some of these things you have to take apart, chew them up, swallow them and shit them out before you really understand what's goign on. It's the process of interpreting them that makes for an interesting project but sometimes, I don't like to have to think so goddamned hard to know what I'm supposed to get out of something. Why should most art be so difficult?
There's a joke I got from Shanmonster's webpage. It reads:
A couple attending an art exhibition at the National Gallery were staring at a portrait that had them completely confused. The painting depicted three very black and totally naked men sitting on a bench. Two of the figures had black penises, but the one in the middle had a pink penis.
The curator of the gallery realized that they were having trouble interpreting the painting and offered his assessment. He went on for nearly half an hour explaining how it depicted the sexual emasculation of African-Americans in a predominantly white patriarchal society.
"In fact," he pointed out, "some serious critics believe that the pink penis also reflects the cultural and sociological oppression experienced by gay men in contemporary society."
After the curator left, a Scottish man approached the couple and said, "Would you like to know what the painting is really about?"
"Now why would you claim to be more of an expert than the curator of the gallery?" asked the couple.
"Because I'm the guy who painted it," he replied. "In fact, there's no African-Americans depicted at all. They're just three Scottish coal-miners. The only difference is that the guy in the middle went home for lunch."
That sort of illustrates my point, somewhat.
Sometimes, art is just too complicated.
It doesn't have to be that way. It can be subversive, life-altering, spiritual and kick out the jams all without the fucked-up confusion that goes along with most of it.
Keep It Simple Stupid.
Anyway, it should be interesting to meet with some of these folks. I hope they don't think I'm an asshole.
Most importantly, I hope I don't just sit there all quiet and shy and say "yeah, whatever you like" like I'm prone to doing when I'm really nervous.
I have a feeling I'm going to react like Otis when he was supposed to have read the book for their book club...and didn't, so he just wound up repeating everything that Chet had said.
"I found it...violenly...arousing."
PS: See the movie Kicking and Screaming
posted at 2:04 PM
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January 13, 2003
The pages aren't up yet. I spent five hours yesterday on math homework. I'll get to it.
Anyway, my writing assignment for this week was to take a subject and push it further than it really should go but still keep it within the realm of possibility.
It was extremely hard for me to do, oddly enough. I couldn't push it far enough. Granted, we only had one page in which to do it, which added to the difficulty but over all, I just couldn't get it to click.
I made funny pages, I made predictable pages, I made interesting pages but nothing pushed the bounds of expectations.
Until now.
I decided to sit down in the computer lab at school and attempt to write something. Whatever I wrote, no matter, would be at least practice, right? Oh my god. I pushed it way farther than I wanted it to go and it still manages to be interesting.
It's about a boy who sits outside of a bingo hall and masturbates to the old ladies that come in and out of the doors -- thinking about the stories from ww2 (about women) that his Uncle told him.
"Their skin, their skin, their wrinkled, paper skin" ran over and over, providing the drumbeat for his pumping arm."
Totally wrong, totally cringe-worthy and totally right on for the assignment.
It's so incredibly strange to have this feeling of hating what I've written yet knowing it's good. I didn't think I would be able to complete the assignment in the way that was directed, and I have this weird thing about always having to be the best. Particuarly where creative writing classes are concerned.
It sounds so snobbish of me and really I don't come off that way. It's all in my head. I keep it all there stashed away so that I don't act like a bitch and I can really learn something from the teacher and from the rest of the people in class.
It's so strange, though.
I hate this story but I'm so excited to see what people think of it.
I hate it because it really does push me to places I don't want to think about all the while making it so plausible that it's twice uncomfortable. It's uncomfortable in subject matter and reality.
Oh well.
None of this matters to anyone anyway, I'm sure.
posted at 5:44 PM
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January 12, 2003
I was listening to a song, relating, reminiscing, feelin old feelings when I realized, I'm relating to a song written by a 17 year old girl. A song written by a little girl and I'm all like "I know what you're sayin, sister, it does hurt."
Then I really started thinking about it. Wait a minute, that's fucked up, isn't it? How can I relate to a messed up kid? I mean she doesn't even know anything yet and here I am practically having a slumber party in her honor. That's wrong. What's wrong with me? Am I that immature?
But wait a minute. Heartache is heartache at any age isn't it? Love is timeless and sometimes those feelings that are so raw and powerful at 17 never really go away. And as adults, we lose sight of the down-to-goodness emotional feeling of it all. We get jaded and hard. We say "fuck you and fuck the world" and really mean it, whereas at 17, we'd write 245897123798054 pages in our journal talking about what it really feels like. I like to feel things. I like feeling everything. Sometimes it is too much and I want to say " fuck it and fuck the whole fucking lot of you" and ignore the world...but when it boils down to it, I love the emotions. I love feeling so happy sometimes that its too much...I like to be 17 in my heart. I like to bounce and dress silly and be worried about the trivialities of life. It makes me feel alive. It's frustrating, it's complicated, it's exhilarating, it's happy.
It's staying up until 2am watching old music videos (now on tape because Mtv doesn't play videos any more) and eating home-made bean dip. It's wondering what I'm going to be when I grow up. It's not giving in. It's fighting the goddamn power. It's being passionate about causes rather than saying "but, yeah, I really know how that bureaucratic bullshit works."
It's also annoying and immature, but yeah, I try not to think about that.
And, keeping with the entire too young theme, I've also been tempted to throw a tantrum full out teen-ager style. My brother has been putting me in a difficult position lately, and I'm starting to get really pissed off at his selfish immaturity. He's going over to my parents house for dinner tomorrow with his girlfriend Sarah. He begged me tonight to go over there, too, because "mom will talk to me too much."
So, naturally, I assume it's that my mom will ride him about bills or living with Sarah or whatever....oh no.
It's because my mom will actually sit down and talk to him too much.
What the fuck is this shit?
Oh, if he needs something like, say, a co-signer for a car or money for his bills he has no problems coming to mom and dad...but now that he's not needing something he doesn't want them to talk to him? And, it's not like he's fucking 15 years old...he's 22 for shit's sake.
It's selfish and lame and I want to kick his ass but I know that if I say anything, I'll go right into the same basket he's thrown my parents into.
He's got a one-track mind focused only on Sarah and buying more cars and makin more money.
What a jackass.
Now I'm going to go listen to sad songs and write in my journal...oh wait...
posted at 1:02 AM
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January 10, 2003
I just realized that I don't have my page complete. I am missing the pictures portion and the miasma of words porition...
What an ass.
I'll have it up by the end of the weekend.
Duh.
posted at 10:45 PM
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January 09, 2003
I was trying to think of 50 interesting facts about me...and can't think of anything. I wonder what that says.
Maybe I'm just lazy-brained.
I'm also having issues dealing with family animosities..."You spend too much time with that family"...it's pissing me off and I can't be any less vague. Fuck.
Sometimes I get so irritated with my brother because he never, ever talks about his feelings. I'll ask him something along the lines of "So, what'd you do when this happened?" or "what'd you say to that"...he usually mumbles "i dunno." Or if he's really upset about something he'll say "i don't give a fuck."
I get really aggrivated and spout off about how he has to share his feelings otherwise he bundles them up and he'll explode ...like when Homer bottled up his anger and developed rage-boils on his neck.
"But I can't live without Rage-ohol!"
Then, I realize, I am exactly the same as my brother.
"What's wrong, am?"
"nothing, no big deal dont' worry about it."
"Why are you mad?"
"I'm not! I jsut have a headache/back ache/stomach ache"
I hate that.
I also hate:
Andy Rooney
Jenny From The Block song stuck in my head
Cold feet
Being Hungry
Rollercoasters -- including the new rollercoaster that Cedar Point is doing that's more than 400 feet tall and goes over 120 mph. It's the tallest Rollercoaster in the world and I hate it more than everything else.
The fact I didn't take french society in film class.
When performers say to the audience "How you doin (insert city here)?"
and everyone goes "WOO!"
How do you feel "woo"?
I do like:
Bobby Hill from "King of the Hill"
Beavis
"chinese donuts"
green beans
Special K with Red Berries
Skeet Ulrich
posted at 7:10 PM
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January 08, 2003
Classes have started and already math is kicking my ass.
The teacher breezed through the first day, writing equation after equation in speed-hand on the chalkboard. "Don't worry, this should just be review for all of you."
"Oh shit...." I said, as I furiously took notes, attempting to keep up.
The class laughed and the teacher took note.
"There is free tutoring available every day from 8am to 8pm downstairs...."
You bet I'll be down there clammoring for help from the math nerds.
Thank god my good friends are mathmatically inclined. I'd be in gobs of trouble.
As for my creative writing class....I have two major manuscripts due this semester, not including the general reading and writing exercise homework. I'm not fazed by it, but, rather, welcoming the challenge. My two manuscripts have to be a minimum of 12 pages. I am intimidated by page numbers. I write until I'm done. Whether that be two paragraphs or twenty pages...
We'll see how it goes. I have a few ideas I want to go with and a few more feelings I need to purge. I'm of the school "write what you know"...though, I don't always agree with this method. You can write about things you've never experienced in your life, that's for sure. But, I tend to really write what I know. Things I've been through, shit I've experienced. It's my therapist, my friend. I purge things that would otherwise cripple me. This is what I do.
Anyway, my class is interesting. My teacher is young with a mass of short, messy, cotton-candy pink hair. She's very cool and very articulate. When she started talking I said in my head "I want to be her when I grow up." I think I'm really going to learn a lot from her...which is good, considering she's pretty important in the department. There's like 3 major important people in the creative writing department. One I admire beyond words. She's the teacher I had last semester and gave me my highly-coveted, muchly-appreciated creative writing departmental honors award.
The others include my current teacher and another man who is a poet lauriet. (I almost spelled poet = pauet. What's wrong with me...)
My classmates are ...a bizarre panoply of people. They range from the fully tattooed alternapunk sporting the "ironic" Mr. Rogers shirt with dress pants and wing tips to the very odd bird-like girl who is extremely tall and has the grace of a ballet dancer, the voice of a theatre actress and the thoughts of a pea...including the older gentleman who can't seem to follow directions and the woman who was in my previous two english classes and I think hates me. It's really going to be interesting to see where the class goes with their writing.
We did an equisite corpse in class and it seemed like everyone was trying very hard.
I hope the atmosphere relaxes in the next couple of classes...considering we only meet 12 times this semester.
I'm still working on some creative fiction/art projects that have kept me busy.
I find my depression knocking on the door again and I'm doing my best to keep it out.
My current playlist includes:
Echo and the Bunnymen - "The Killing Moon"
Information Society - "White Roses"
Danzig - "How the Gods Kill"
Magnetic Fields - "I don't want to get over you"
Possum Dixon - "What you mean"
Low - "Sunflower"
Machines of Loving Grace - "Bullet with Butterfly Wings"
Psychoanalyze me....
posted at 12:25 AM
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January 06, 2003
I've loved you both, differently and completely
Watching a great movie, Innocence , that was so tender and emotional...
reduces me to tears every time.
School starts tomorrow and I am full of memory again.
posted at 12:03 AM
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January 03, 2003
HAHAHA we're having our ten year class reunion in a brewery.
That sums up my class of clarkston high.
In a brewery.
Christ.
posted at 4:27 PM
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I spent an intense evening at my parents house.
Main Entry: in·tense
Pronunciation: in-'ten(t)s
1 a : existing in an extreme degree
It was nearly too much.... a tough balance between being 13 years old and being 27 years old all at once.
I feel emotionally drained and lethargic, like I could sleep for days. It's so difficult walking the line to please both myself and my parents.
Too much is never enough and I don't know why I even bother worrying about it.
They only mean to show how much they love me by pointing out what I clearly deserve....but all it does is make me feel how little I live up to their expectations. It's so heartbreaking to think that I dissapoint them, yet I constantly try to please them. The more I try, the more I feel like I'm letting them down. And if I were ever tell them, I would feel worse for making them feel bad.
It's a sick cycle that I don't know how to break.
My brother, who cares less about what my parents think of him, is the one they seem to be the most proud of...even if they do continually bitch about his finances.
Maybe I'm just sensitive. It's too hard to say. I don't know what to do and I think that really, nothing can be done at this point.
How do I live an adult life while trying to please my parents like a child?
You can't.
posted at 1:29 AM
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January 01, 2003
Spent the new years at E's and A's. Met a very nice gay man that I liked a lot. Met a girl who is very very obviously gay to everyone but herself. Met an older couple that I disliked a lot. Well, disliked the woman...the man was cool. < geek>She claimed that Heinlein treated women like shit. When confronted with "oh my god, no he didn't....what crack are you smoking? have you even read to sail beyond the sunset ??" she said "no i don't read science fiction."
I wanted to smack her in the face with a frying pan.
Just because she works in a bookstore (insert *'ooh ahhh* here) means she can make sweeping generalizations about authors...what the fuck ever. < /geek>
We played two games of Cranium ...and a partial game of Millenium trivial pursuit.
Oh so many incriminating pictures were taken....and several funny pictures that I can guarantee won't be funny by the time I develop the film.
I took a photo of Chris Isaak on tv just before midnight (because we all know how I feel about him *swoon*...and a photo of the new years ball hitting the ground and the 12:00:00 on screen. That's really gay of me isn't it?
It sounds like an old people's new year, and I'll tell you what...it was. I'm okay with that because there was a lot of drunk fun at the party, that's for damn sure.
Oh and like a good little girl, I called my mom to wish her happy new year.
Instead of wearing my Fiend Club t-shirt, I wore my Rockstar t-shirt that has Marky Mark as Chris Cole from the movie...doing the great devil horn sign...and under it says "METAL"
I keep saying "Stand up and shouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut"
It's late. I'm tired. No city club for you.
posted at 2:31 AM
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