SnapCracklePop

ok i dont know who this benedict cumberwhoever is but his name keeps popping up on my dash

shutupkristina:

and it just keeps making think its one of those names from salad fingers… like hubert cumberdale or whatnot

either way it gets me in the mood for a cucumber

Benedict Cumberbatch is a GOD. Google him. And then watch BBC Sherlock. Its a modern adaptation and he is just heavenly. Also, he is supposedly doing the voice of the dragon for The Hobbit. WATCH SHERLOCK. JOIN THE CULT. You will not regret it. 

Today was pretty great

and its probably going to get better. 

So i went to work, mundane, whatever. They didn’t take my on call for an extra two hours. 

So i leave, and I head home so I can go into Manhattan and visit Mals. I hit traffic, but whatever. 

I hope the J to the A uptown into Manhattan, get off at 14th, heart of the Meatpacking district. I go to Dos, meet up with Mals. Hang with Mals on her break, get froyo. Its great. Meet up with Drew when she gets of her shift at Dos, we go to the bar. Here is where I start doing real, adult things. I got off work, met up with my friend when she got off work, and we went to a bar. She buys me a vodka tonic, a sailor on leave for fleet week hits on me, asking about my tattoos, which he noticed when Drew and I were outside while she finished her cigarette. Then, Drew and I start talking history and wars, and we strike up a conversation with the barkeep. We talk to this guy for like, an hour and a half or so, until we leave. We part ways at Nostrand, I get back on the J and now I am home. I am eating a veggie burger i cooked for myself on my stove, in my apartment. Where i live. In New York. I live in New York now, and I am an adult now, who gets off work and goes to a bar with her friends. 

Aaaand in a couple hours Im going out to Long Beach to go to a party. hahaha, so college of me. This is a rambling entry brought to you by Kryss, who is a little buzzed because Drew bought her a shot of Patron XO (really, really good) and a vodka tonic. 

Nevermind. I just reread my short story, and I will not give Zane the whole thing. It is terrible. Maybe just the first part, because the dialogue is okay and the writing is not TOO melodramatic teen novel. 

God. I’m obnoxious. 

Writing

This is not as easy as Esther Greenwood would have you believe. 

So, I’m supposed to write a villanelle,

Rhyme A and B, lather, rinse and repeat,

This assignment is pure hell.

Wrack my brain for rhyme, search the well

To fit these onerous shackles of the same old beat.

Because, you see, I’m attempting to write a villanelle.

I’m thinking of finding someone with services to sell,

To help with this herculean feat.

I think my brain is rotting, this assignment is such hell.

I tear out my hair, beg, yell,

Cry and throw paper at the wall, take a seat

On the floor and sob, because I’m trying to write a villanelle.

I want to give up, throw in the towel and tell

The professor that I just can’t take the heat.

Because, you see, my nerves are frayed, this assignment is just hell.

I’m going insane, rhyme schemes ringing like a bell,

Tolling my death, my imminent defeat.

See, I decided I’d write a villanelle,

And instead accepted the assignment from hell. 

This is an assignment done for my creative writing class last semester. One of the several poems we had to write. I’ve been going over my portfolio for the class, thinking of editing some of the pieces, particularly the short story I wrote. I’ve been thinking about them since the other night, when my friend said he’d read over some of my work. As I know that Zane would be honest and probably give me decent criticism, I might actually take him up on it. 

I love bean soup mix. Just dried beans in a bag - add water, let simmer, and bang. Dinner. I made about a cup and half (dry) of beans last week for burrito filling. I’ve got about four meals out of it so far, and have about another 2 or 3. Just a few tablespoons on a wheat wrap with some salsa and cheese. Instant burrito. And it’s good for you. And you can add anything else to it you want. And you can make it vegan. It’s cheap and easy and delicious.

I want to drink so I’m comfortable and get to know people. But I’m really uncomfortable because I don’t know anyone and so I don’t want to drink.

This is the paradox that is my anxiety. Dumb.

Tchaikovsky radio

is the best last.fm for studying. 

In which I make like a dinosaur

And scream and stomp around my room because WHAT THE FUCK. 

Oh, thats just the library telling me there’s nothing they can do about my record access.

Also thats Amy telling me that NO ONE thought to make sure that she knew I was requesting a transfer. For a whole month, I’ve been calling. 

Hey. Hey you. Fuck you. Fuck everybody today.

I just want to run out into the quad and start screaming. 

Or punch someone. Or myself. Maybe if i’m hospitalized I wont have to turn in my paper.

How about fuck you guys.