um.

forgot this existed.

hi?

It seems I've crawled into a hole, yet again. By hole, I mean I've been working much more than is feasible and thus all I have the energy to do these days is crawl into bed the moment I get home. I've been doing a lot of kickboxing as well (which I highly recommend. Its a ridiculous workout, and it's also ridiculously fun.) I DID managed to read the Potter this weekend, with shocking speed considering that I was working most of it. What excites me most is that I hear Rowling is writing a Harry Potter ENCYCLOPEDIA, with detailed character backstory and the like. *death*

Now that I've caught up with my reading I can concentrate on the Six/Baltar monster that has taken over my hard drive. But because I'm silly I was really wondering if anyone could point me in the direction of some good Harry/Hermione fic. Yeah, I know--but I'm having no luck hunting for it on my own. I suck.

I'm pretty sure my neighbors are scared of us. We decided today to blast a random assortment of classical music in the central Bose and turn it up into the higher 80s. I was in my room upstairs making myself interview ready and I swear I could feel the base in my feet, which I must say was fun. A little scary for the mailman to hear Wagner at the edge of the property, but quite entertaining for us. And it's made for the best background music for The Secret History, which I can't put down to save my life. I started it this morning and just started to wade a bit into Book II. I haven't even done the crossword puzzle today, which says something.*

And I just realized that the reason I've been so jumpy today is probably due to the fact that I've consumed massive amounts of green tea. Listening to the Kreutzer Sonata all day hasn't helped, either. Geez.


You know what's depressing? When your best friends give you a book of New York Times Sunday crossword puzzles and you spend a week doing one. I've never been this bad before, seriously guys. AND! It has THE FIRST SUNDAY CROSSWORD EVER. Also known as Hi, PopCulture from 1934, its nice to meet you. Shit.

I somehow survived all of 2007 without having to pull an all-nighter.

Of course, until now.

I never fully appreciated the spectacular view of Manhattan I have from my studio until this morning. As it is I'm never in my room, especially when I need to get things done. (This place is a blackhole for productivity. I'm surprised I could even type that.) Regardless, I had the pleasure of watching the most beautiful sunrise in between tearing up a draft and drowning in strong Cuban coffee.

( If I hadn't already mentioned this, I loathe the UN. )

This is just the beginning, too. I happen to have a professor with a huge heart and soul that I must worship, because she granted us an extension on a 14 page paper that would have been due today as well. God bless her and her Russian loving heart.

I did take a break tonight, to watch Lost. Which was an hour of my life that I am never getting back. I have faith, though. It's starting to get its mojo once again.

daygloparker is officially the anti-Christ. And I am officially BSG's bitch. Stay tuned for the plethora of word vomit that is going to erupt after finals hell.

i live.

or at least now i do. check back in two weeks from today. i have this feeling that five finals slay me.

and, because i never thought i'd entertain such notions: where hath the fucking snow gone?

testing.


(i really need to actually start writing in this. i will, i swear.)

World Cup fever has seized my life. I'm not sure what I enjoy more, the fact that I willingly wake up at 6 to catch early games that mean nothing but I sleep right through Mexico versus Iran. Irony, no? Needless to say I came home to my mother sneering before I managed to open my mouth. Sweet family I have, no?

Attention Mac users: ( I have an inquiry. )

I find myself missing New York more and more these days.

And in a completely different line of thinking, my nephew keeps coming up to my computer and staring at it like it's God. Heeee.

You know what's a bad idea? Watching the series finale of Six Feet Under when you're sick and melancholy to begin with.

Something about the combination of "Breathe Me" and death that just kills me. As of five minutes ago? I WAS SOBBING. Like a baby.

Just in: I may be starting job #2 of the summer this weekend. wheeeee.



countdown to new york: 14 days.

daygloparker happens to be amazing.

teh journal happens to be nice and shiny now. I'll also give her credit for the fact that I'm updating for the first time in eons.

Who forgot to tell me that Big Love was amazing? Because it is.

MIA makes me want to have an eastern 80s dance party.

Fischerspooner is invited, too.

My reasons for breaking my silence are twofold.


1) It's been way too long.
2) It's 60someodd degrees outside. andit'sgoingtobewarmerthanLA

I am literally so excited that I can barely function. My skin doesn't know how to reaction to direct contact with vitamin D.

This idea? Genius.

I'm already addicted to widgets enough as it is, but right about this one is a green sticky telling me that I need

1) A passport
2) New books [which should be null but isn't because I dropped a class]
3) Book brunch/dinner for the crazies

Best Friend #2 is flying out here to spend Presidents' Weekend with me and I can't even tell you how happy that makes me. Even if I am broke and really don't feel like rushing everything so BF#1 can show off New Haven. That's an entirely different story, though.

1) Boy suck.

2) You know you've gone delusional when you, at the behest of your roommate, draw a face on a sock. Yeah, we're going a bit nuts. I blame it on the radiator.

Also? I love waking up in the morning to hop in the shower in an attempt to enjoy the FIFTY-SEVEN DEGREE weather outside only to be thwarted by the fact that there is no hot water. Zilch. None. Which was, to say the least, terribly upsetting. We all sat around being dirty 'till about 3 when people decided to attempt braving the ice cold water. At which point the hot water magically reappeared.

3) Best piece of news ever: bitch suitemate IS MOVING OUT. Let me just say that I was overjoyed when I was given the news. She herself has yet to tell me, but hell if I care. We did do the best we could to get along with her, and she's just not having it. I just worry that we're going to get someone sketchy. Or even MORE sketchy. If possible.

4) Boys suck. Oversized vintage men's sweaters, however, do not.

me: so I was at the Tea Spot* on Sunday, and there was a couple watching BSG DVDs on a laptop
me: I mean, they might not have been a thing, but they were of two different sexes watching together, so.
daygloparker: I feel the need to ship the two random people at the Tea Spot
daygloparker: randomgirl/randomboy OTP!!!!!

Why I find that so amusing, I don't know. What is amusing? Livejournal emailed me to notify me that I haven't posted in a month. How's that for upkeep?

( a bit of school news, good stuff I promise. )


*For anyone ever in the New York area, The Tea Spot is an amazing little place just underneath Washington Square Park. Tea = the new pink.

Um, hello End of the Semester. How the hell did that happen?

I don't think I had time to notice, frankly. With J.Crew raping me and professors piling on the work I had to stop and remember that I'm going to be home in a week from Saturday. A week. Seven days. Technically ten from now, but oh my. I'm so ready for a break now that I might die.

( excusing you from that rant that isn't really...a rant. )

I iz nerd, because I can't wait for the semester to be over so I can take French. It's an intensive course, which combines two semesters of a level into one, and it meets fives days a week. I can deal. I just need to be doing something new.

You know you have a caffeine problem your roommate suggests that your body has started producing caffeine on its own. That, and I keep listening to Gravy Train's "Hella Nervous" on repeat. Oy. Oy Oy Oy.

I am currently in the throws of my first ulcer.

It is currently 12:11, or so Isadora tells me. My registration time is 1:45, and our homepage is denying me access into my account.

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH.


eta: registration is complete. thank you sweet jesus.

Feeling discontected as hell.

I also find it incredibly pathetic that I've used three of my 100 userpics.

But joy! We got our midterm portfolios back tonight in my writing class and I got myself a big, fat A.

I'll have more to say sometime, I swear.

I really need to stop spending exorbitant amounts of money at Starbucks.

(Think I'm joking? My roommates are convinced that my body has reached the point where it just produces caffeine on it's own.)

There was a point in my first two weeks here where I sat down and intended to spill my guts about this whole experience. To which my computer found appalling, because the browser closed on me and I find that I haven't been able to form a coherent thought to write down here ever since.

( holy crap, i'm in college )

( and they're making me live with people )

So when I got here, I bought myself paid time in order to, you know. Force myself back into the swing of things. Now I'm scared of downloading Photoshop and killing Isadora. If anyone feels like helping me spruce this thing up, I will, uh. Send you a cookie. Or a cupcake from The Magnolia Cafe (which is a fucking orgasm in a cup. I kid you not.). Or I'll write you something, even.

I'm off to, I don't know. Take notes and attempt to be productive.* As I dance around my room singing "Dead Disco".

*Oh who am I kidding. We all know I'm just going to sit here and toy around with the BSG bunnies copulating in my brain.

breaking my silence, because, holy crap, I saw Metric live.

I'm actually dead.