-Can't write second to last paper of my last semester at UNM. I have spent the past hour watching Breaking Bad with my Mom and stalking people on Facebook. Not a single fucking sentence has been added to my Word document. I think I'm going to cuddle into my bed, turn on my heater and sleep till 7 am. Tomorrow will be a miserable study day at the library.
Tyler Dunnahoo and I have stepped up to the plate. I have challenged him to a blogging dual. In the future we can look back at our respective blogs and think "Wow-at that time I thought what I had to say mattered- when in fact, it meant nothing and I have moved on with my life."
Tonight, my blog is lame.
Next time- it will thrill and excite...or just be longer.
Blog number three of 2010? Accomplished.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Starting of February
Within the past few hours I have decided not to do my homework for Psychological Research Techniques. It was a scary decision and I am continuing to have a small panic attack. This is the first and last time I have ever not done my homework. I wish I had a good excuse or some epic adventure to go on. Instead I'm just going to read "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle" and fall asleep.
I feel like having a small crisis based on nothing.
Blog #2 of 2010 accomplished.
I feel like having a small crisis based on nothing.
Blog #2 of 2010 accomplished.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Life in 2010
I guess I never consider blogging because it scares the hell out of me. These words have a permanence and accessibility that no other aspect of my life has.
I thought my resolution for 2010 would be to blog more often and record my final semester and time in New Mexico, being young and ridiculous. This obviously has not occurred as of yet. It would be nice though, to look back at this time and have something to show for it. The problem is this can never be a diary. Too much accessibility.
It's Monday night, the fourth of January in my 20th year. I'm listening to CocoRosie and writing a blog. My mom is in the living room playing with her band "the Lady Fingers". I have a feeling they're all buzzed. I've had my banjo for a year and four months and I cannot fathom playing it. She has a unique gift for music I don't think I've inherited. Maybe I'm just lazy and busy not playing.
I just finished my reading for behavior therapies which I think I will come to despise more than anything. Sixty pages of bullshit articles and hundreds of run-on sentences later I want to suffocate my graduate student professor by crumpling up these articles soaking them in water and forcing them through his oxygen pathways. Just fathoming this fantasy allows me to cope with my future in this course.
UNM is strange. People are mingling around being mongers and mingers. Pissing me off, really. Luckily- literally- strangers NEVER talk to me. This is both concerning and unconcerning. It makes me wonder how I come off. In most social situations outside of school I flourish and am often approached by unknown persons. I guess at school I appear to be on a mission. To move on with my life.
I got the application for Academy of Art today. It will be challenging and time consuming but then again, what is not? I have a goal to finish it by the end of Spring Break. This seems like a healthy goal to have. I should set up a time line to gage my process.
It surprises me how organized I keep my life; Lists, calendars, notes, time lines, etc. It also surprises me to have lived this long. I very vividly remember thinking-no knowing- that I would never live to see the future. I was sure to be stuck in the middle of the pendulum, motionless without momentum for the rest of my consciousness. Now- the older I get the faster time flys and the more nervous I am about being an independent person, alone in the world.
Blog #1 of 2010 accomplished.
I thought my resolution for 2010 would be to blog more often and record my final semester and time in New Mexico, being young and ridiculous. This obviously has not occurred as of yet. It would be nice though, to look back at this time and have something to show for it. The problem is this can never be a diary. Too much accessibility.
It's Monday night, the fourth of January in my 20th year. I'm listening to CocoRosie and writing a blog. My mom is in the living room playing with her band "the Lady Fingers". I have a feeling they're all buzzed. I've had my banjo for a year and four months and I cannot fathom playing it. She has a unique gift for music I don't think I've inherited. Maybe I'm just lazy and busy not playing.
I just finished my reading for behavior therapies which I think I will come to despise more than anything. Sixty pages of bullshit articles and hundreds of run-on sentences later I want to suffocate my graduate student professor by crumpling up these articles soaking them in water and forcing them through his oxygen pathways. Just fathoming this fantasy allows me to cope with my future in this course.
UNM is strange. People are mingling around being mongers and mingers. Pissing me off, really. Luckily- literally- strangers NEVER talk to me. This is both concerning and unconcerning. It makes me wonder how I come off. In most social situations outside of school I flourish and am often approached by unknown persons. I guess at school I appear to be on a mission. To move on with my life.
I got the application for Academy of Art today. It will be challenging and time consuming but then again, what is not? I have a goal to finish it by the end of Spring Break. This seems like a healthy goal to have. I should set up a time line to gage my process.
It surprises me how organized I keep my life; Lists, calendars, notes, time lines, etc. It also surprises me to have lived this long. I very vividly remember thinking-no knowing- that I would never live to see the future. I was sure to be stuck in the middle of the pendulum, motionless without momentum for the rest of my consciousness. Now- the older I get the faster time flys and the more nervous I am about being an independent person, alone in the world.
Blog #1 of 2010 accomplished.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Teeth?
I don't think I ever made the connection between fish and teeth even though I've been bit by a fish or two in the past. Fish and teeth? That freaks me the hell out. Yuck. Those sea dwellers should just swallow their foods. I mean really, fishes chewing, ripping, chomping? Ga-ross. Just swallow some plankton guys. Seriously.
Oh god, what about Eels? Do eels have teeth?
Sea freaks.
Oh god, what about Eels? Do eels have teeth?
Sea freaks.
Orange.
The weather is changing quickly.
My neighborhood is always nice around this time. The big parks are doused in orange, yellow and brown leaves. I like Autumn and all but me and Winter sometimes have a hard time getting along. Autumn always brings bitchy old Winter around. We fight a lot. It spits at me and blows me about--then I yell like a banshee and sulk my soggy boots inside where I can hide. Can't get me when I'm in bed. Cold ass bitch. See if you can ruin my wool coat now.
October is cool though. I like putting my hands into pumpkins and feeling the hairs mixed with seeds and juices. Even though it's usually too cold and my hands go numb- I still enjoy it. I think stabbing and cutting a pumpkin is morbid in a sincere and naive way. The way when you push the knife in and use a strange strength. The way you saw out the shape of triangles making hard edges and re-stabbing for harder angles. The way you can pull back the knife and get orange hairy veins from inside the treasure cove of vibrant color that has never existed in the light. I remember hearing the cracking noise of pumpkin and pavement once. It vibrates in a mysterious and fantastic way.
October is also great because it gives me occasions to dress ludicrously and act slightly more ridiculous than normal. This is my last and only October as a 20 year old, it's the beginning of an era I guess. It's weird to think that existence for me began two decades ago. Consciousness and the world didn't exist before that. Not in me anyway.
It's weirder to think that years from now my consciousness will cease again, the world will disappear into the nothing that it came from and my life will wash away with the future.
Harumph.
-L
My neighborhood is always nice around this time. The big parks are doused in orange, yellow and brown leaves. I like Autumn and all but me and Winter sometimes have a hard time getting along. Autumn always brings bitchy old Winter around. We fight a lot. It spits at me and blows me about--then I yell like a banshee and sulk my soggy boots inside where I can hide. Can't get me when I'm in bed. Cold ass bitch. See if you can ruin my wool coat now.
October is cool though. I like putting my hands into pumpkins and feeling the hairs mixed with seeds and juices. Even though it's usually too cold and my hands go numb- I still enjoy it. I think stabbing and cutting a pumpkin is morbid in a sincere and naive way. The way when you push the knife in and use a strange strength. The way you saw out the shape of triangles making hard edges and re-stabbing for harder angles. The way you can pull back the knife and get orange hairy veins from inside the treasure cove of vibrant color that has never existed in the light. I remember hearing the cracking noise of pumpkin and pavement once. It vibrates in a mysterious and fantastic way.
October is also great because it gives me occasions to dress ludicrously and act slightly more ridiculous than normal. This is my last and only October as a 20 year old, it's the beginning of an era I guess. It's weird to think that existence for me began two decades ago. Consciousness and the world didn't exist before that. Not in me anyway.
It's weirder to think that years from now my consciousness will cease again, the world will disappear into the nothing that it came from and my life will wash away with the future.
Harumph.
-L
Monday, September 28, 2009
Monday, Monday, Monday begins the week and ends the weekend. Weakend.
I have an entire life and considering blogging about it makes me feel like what I write has an absurd emphasis. The art of breifing.
I'm a young woman who is nervous about her future-- as it is upon her. In May it has been decreed that I will graduate from the University of New Mexico. What comes next is up to time. Do I join the peace corps? Do I work my same silly job? Do I travel the world? Do I head to music festivals and take my place as General Rage? Do I pack up for San Francisco? So many part time paths. So many full time options.
I've been listening a lot to M. Ward. I like it. I am not partial, though, to dual tunes featuring Zoey Deshanel. She's sweet and all, but the substance seems to be lacking in her doe eyes. Deer in hipster headlights.
I think I might be terrible at this.
Efffffffff.
Yours truly,
"young disaster"
I have an entire life and considering blogging about it makes me feel like what I write has an absurd emphasis. The art of breifing.
I'm a young woman who is nervous about her future-- as it is upon her. In May it has been decreed that I will graduate from the University of New Mexico. What comes next is up to time. Do I join the peace corps? Do I work my same silly job? Do I travel the world? Do I head to music festivals and take my place as General Rage? Do I pack up for San Francisco? So many part time paths. So many full time options.
I've been listening a lot to M. Ward. I like it. I am not partial, though, to dual tunes featuring Zoey Deshanel. She's sweet and all, but the substance seems to be lacking in her doe eyes. Deer in hipster headlights.
I think I might be terrible at this.
Efffffffff.
Yours truly,
"young disaster"
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Turning on, Tuning in
I used to blog at livejournal when I was 14. Five years later I guess this is the hot spot to post your psycho-babble...
I have written and re-written more than 5 paragraphs in this space. It's hard to start out. First impressions are very important. Especially when we're pillow talking.
I'm sad this summer is over. I just want to camp out on a rug with a record player and I want Johnny Cash on repeat.
I have written and re-written more than 5 paragraphs in this space. It's hard to start out. First impressions are very important. Especially when we're pillow talking.
I'm sad this summer is over. I just want to camp out on a rug with a record player and I want Johnny Cash on repeat.
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