New journal, because I'm a pain in the ass like that. If you want to read me, read nick_tesla

Let's join a social network built just for two. Baby, you can invite me, and I could invite you.

Makes me laugh and feel a little ashamed of myself. He is the voice of the ADD generation.

Today I went to the gym. Cardio and lifting and stretching, oh my. I have limbs like a baby giraffe.

AmeriCorps. Domestic Peace Corps for young adults. 10 months. The thought of it makes me happy. How funny, wanting something.

I started working hard too late. At the moment I'm not sure exactly what's going on with my professor accepting work, as he hasn't contacted me since giving me an extension of a few days, which are now up. I have not been very productive this week, because I'm frequently overcome by debilitating stress which makes teaching myself math essentially impossible.

I'm not going to get all melodramatic and dumb like I did on my last entry, but I'm not pleased with myself. I'm considering withdrawing next quarter and getting a job, something I should have done straight out of high school. If I get partial credit next quarter, they'll withdraw my financial aid, and I'll have to leave anyway. Not wonderful, but hardly the worst thing ever. However I look at it, my options aren't terrible and I haven't done anything unforgivable, which makes feeling that way seem illogical. Which doesn't change it.

This entry has been waiting to be written for quite some time.

I like to sabotage myself via procrastination. Like Ze Frank once said, I create the illusion that I'm coming closer to bettering myself, while really running in place. I think that's what my bizarre mental disorder for the last week or so has been. I suspected when I wrote my last entry, but didn't mention it. Summer quarter is ending. THIS IS CRUNCH TIME. I am very close to being in over my head, but when I should be doing my homework I am suffering from a random bout of pseudo-ADD, dying my hair again, and updating my livejournal. I am reading a great book. I can't decide what to have for lunch and I'm not about to mess around with month old optimization problems on an empty stomach.

I hate my mother. The Female Eunuch has clarified exactly why, which I was already fairly aware of. I hate my father for similar reasons, but much less so because his inertia and cowardice are correspondingly less. Jung. Shadow. Modeling. Wanting better models.

Calculus makes me happy, but I don't do it. Not doing it makes me feel like shit, but I still put it off and off and off.

Am I looking for another mentor? People like to take me--the self-deprecating but promising youth--under their wing and that's probably where I've felt the most liked, is that why I do this? Sounds too easy.

Am I simply afraid of trying because if you do you find limits and I don't want to think I have any? Doesn't feel true, at least not like the whole truth.

Have I bought into the Generation X-Y glamorous slacker stereotype? After spending years playing that part, I can see that it leads nowhere I want to be and it's not as great as that Winona Ryder movie made it out to be. It hurts people who care about you, is unpleasant and unsatisfying, and you don't get the girl.

Still depressed? Should I go back on the drugs? How's this? I am not depressed and I am sick of being told that I don't know the difference.

Personality is a pattern, a habit, and mine has gotten lazy. I know that. But why am I holding myself here if I don't like it?

Meta-cognition.

I've spilled my guts now, absolutely as yet another diversion for myself, at least in part.  For years now, I have waxed introspective as a form of procrastination. That is not the question.

Meta-self-sabotage is the question. My cards on the table are very real and there is no ace up my sleeve. Few people read this lj, but three of them are my best friends, two are people I am very fond of, and the last I admire embarrassingly much. Every time I fuck up you will all see what I am or am not saying. You will think less of me if I'm not doing better, because it will be evident that I am not trying. You will know that I am a weak asshole and there will be no way for me to ignore that.

So let's hope that this does some good. Feels good.

Today I spent hours reading while playing with the idea of going to the store to buy a frozen pizza. I came back with a baguette and a box of hair dye. For the last week, I've found myself doing things like this often and it's a slightly disturbing. It's like I'm alternating between debilitating indecision and a complete lack of impulse control, which scares me a little bit. I hope I feel normal again soon.

On the bright side, I think my hair looks beyond better. May I never go blond again, at least not on a whim, at home.

I knew that it was unlikely to turn out how I wanted it by going for it like that, but now I don't know if I'm dedicated enough to finish the job. Might go to Hot Topic and get some dark pink based red or purple dye tomorrow. Or I might give it a rest then bleach it some more. Dunno when it's "safe" to do so though. My hair doesn't feel like it's going to fall out, it's just not silky anymore.

I hate each and every one of you for not telling me that I don't look that good with nude lips and probably shouldn't own more than about two. I hate each and every one of you immeasurably more than that already overwhelming hate for not encouraging me to wear bold lip colors because my mouth looks sexier with them and my features in general MUCH more balanced.

WHY DIDN'T I REALIZE THAT SOONER? I noticed maybe a month ago that it was easier to take a good picture once you slap some red lipstick on me, but  even then it didn't connect. Uuuugh, God, not only am I vain, I'm a moron.

Where? Here.
I swear the story will get more original in the next installment. And there will be pictures! Unrelated to the story, at least for a while, but pictures!

And I'm reading The Female Eunuch and am in love with it. I can't believe I didn't pick it up sooner.

I should have been asleep a long time ago. I should have done homework when I got home. I will go to class tomorrow/today tired and unprepared. Self sabotage? Plain lazy? Probably. But for now I am wrapping up a part of a story I have been working on that I am very serious and excited about. I have a rough beginning and a very end for this character. Soon he'll get a middle that will earn the death I've given him.

And God bless Brokeback Mountain for making all those spoofs possible. The sex was still really disappointing though.

I'd fuck me.


I can't say I had fun that night, but the picture makes it worth going. Holy shit, Courtney, you were really convincing.

Can't go to sleep because my cycle is messed up to the point that I must work my way around the clock forward (get to sleep later and later until I'm back to the late pm's or early am's). What I mean by that is I'm posting even though I have nothing to say to keep myself busy. All I have done in the last few days is make and eat cupcakes, put on makeup, and read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince with my sister. I feel like an overfed zombie. Oh, and Rad Girls. Jackass is so much better when they've got crazy girls in stead of boys.

I avoided editing the movie my group in Gender and Media did for the comedy piece (the assignment I was supposed to use Gra for, but I ended up in drag instead). Stupid. At the time, I was too tired to want to do anything new and intimidated for some shameful reason. At about 6:00 this morning, I ended up doing some editing on this other project. Guess what? I LOVE IT. And I think I'm naturally pretty good at it. What the fuck?

Should go. Lots of work to do before tomorrow morning and I should also sleep before I present our final project.



Was there really that little to say in response to the sad equality post? Guess so. It seems that I do not do meaningful right on livejournal.

I feel tiny, weak and inferior. If I believed in a God I would be furious with him/her/it for making women smaller than men--not to mention the ones with the "ability" to bear children. I was already in a profoundly shitty mood because Noah seems to like picking me up without my consent and I doubt I could easily do the same to him, then I saw some footage of what happened at the 2000 Puerto Rican Day parade in New York (about 50 women were sexually assaulted by mobs of men).

Maybe this is my internalized sexism talking, but does anyone else feel hurt by women needing special legal protection from men because most men could overpower most women? I get scared thinking, "If he wanted to, he could hurt me worse than I could him. By being in his presence, I am putting myself at his mercy." And from there I find my mind going in all sorts of upsetting, politically incorrect directions...

I should start working out. Learn to kick some ass, build some muscle. But even if I do, will that be enough for me? Will I be a match for some random dick trying to shove me around? Will I stop thinking of my sex as some huge disadvantage?

If I'm completely honest with myself, I don't believe this evens out; it seems like even looking at it from a strictly physiological perspective, females got fucked.

And yeah, I know, I said most of this stuff last year, about this time.

Close.