Procrastination and deprivation

Sleep deprivation, that is. My group of friends has one and only motto that we live by:

We are AP students! We do not sleep! Studying comes first! Health and personal hygiene and everything else goes second!

...yeah. BECAUSE THE AP CHEM TEST IS IN TWO WEEKS HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO LIVE A "NORMAL" LIFE We really don't have lives, do we? (No.)

***

Also:

Nightshade: So not fair. When I have kids, they're going to be BILINGUAL
Nightshade: and AWESOME
Janepage: My kids are going to be super amazing!
Nightshade: Ikr? I will have studly little children
Nightshade: Meeheeheeheehee
Janepage: AND THEY SHALL BE NAMED AFTER FRUITS

I refrained from putting the next bit, due to stalkerphobia issues with our real names, but it included coming up with random fruits paired with our last names. Also, my first two children are going to be Pineapple and Kumquat, and hers are going to be Watermelon and... Melon. I suppose.

Poor, poor children who are someday cursed to have us two as mothers. They'll never know what hit them.

YOU SEE, MOTHER. THIS IS WHY WE ARE BEST FRIENDS. I do not lie.

I'm supposed to be asleep in ten minutes, but...

...I just had to post this. I had to.

[10:48:53 PM] Me: also, going to bed now.
[10:49:11 PM] Me: tell your friends that i say goodbye!
SO LONG
FAREWELL
AUF WIEDERSEN GOODBYE
[10:49:19 PM] Me: THE SUN HAS GONE TO BED AND SO HAVE I
[10:49:24 PM] Me: GOODBYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
[10:49:28 PM] Janepage: FINE.
[10:49:29 PM] Me: good... BYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
[10:49:31 PM] Janepage: BYE.
[10:49:37 PM] Me: ...
[10:49:44 PM] Janepage: :P
[10:49:45 PM] Me: i'm trying to think of some other way to say goodbye
[10:49:50 PM] Me: but all i can see is jake's skype status
[10:49:55 PM] Me: PARTYING PARTYING PARTYING YEAH
[10:50:04 PM] Me: and
[10:50:06 PM] Me: like
[10:50:18 PM] Me: AND PLEASE BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAAAAY IIIIIIII LOOOOOVE YOOOOUUUUU
[10:50:33 PM] Me: ...and neither of those are really good for saying goodbye
[10:50:44 PM] Janepage: ...ok

It's spectacular [spectacular]

SEE WHAT I DID THERE?

No? Okay.

WARNING: The rest of the post will consist of one blogger ranting insanely about a certain movie she watched recently. Earplugs are provided to your left. [WAVES HANDS TO LEFT] Please be careful of flying capital letters - they sometimes spontaneously combust. Not to worry; we have also provided fire extinguishers and have a team of expert waterbenders on speed dial.

...

OKAY FANGIRL SESSION STARTS NOW.

We're doing a film analysis unit in my English class and last week, we were informed that we would be watching Moulin Rouge! and 12 Angry Men (in that order). I had absolutely no clue what either of the films was about, so I went in with an open mind (although I admit I was slightly wary of the Boring In-Class Movie trap. Looking at you, Henry V).

In case you haven't seen it, the first twenty minutes or so of Moulin Rouge are completely and utterly ridiculous. In short: it contains a crossdressing dwarf, a spirited rendition of the Sound of Music title song (the hiiiiiiiills are aliiiiiive, etc.), and the lines "Suddenly, an unconscious Argentinian fell through my ceiling" and "LOVE IS LIKE OXYGEN!", along with a drug-induced dancing fairy and a neon-colored strip club cancan place (the Moulin Rouge).

After that, fortunately, the main storyline picks up, so it's not entirely insane. If you haven't seen it: It's a love story. About a writer and a cancan dancer. AND IT WAS AMAZING.

aklejr h;jkaerjk; yakl;je klrjhglkakweh tkj34a wgklfsjdflllllllll

And the interesting thing is, I don't usually like romantic movies. I find them bland and a bit pointless without a bigger plot to carry the romance. (As you might guess, I pretty much hate romcoms and chick flicks and the like.) I prefer intense action/fiery explosions/insane visual effects/laugh-until-oxygen-fails-you comedy. Moulin Rouge is mainly a romance, but it has the advantage of also being hilarious, suspenseful, and (sometimes) depressing.

AND IT'S A MUSICAL.

DARN YOU iTUNES AND YOUR INABILITY TO PURCHASE INDIVIDUAL SONGS INSTEAD OF THE ENTIRE ALBUM YOU HAVE FORCED ME TO YOUTUBE The music's pretty amazing, too. Now, every time I hear it, I start grinning like an idiot and can't stop for about forty minutes after the song ends. [DREAMY FANGIRL SIGH]

So watch it. NOW.

Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge! is PG-13, and it takes place in a cancan theater (is that the right term?), which is basically the equivalent of an 1899 strip club. If you're worried about Things That Are Not Rated G, you should probably skip this one. There's no actual, ahem, "adult content," and you have to take into consideration the setting, but still. Just in case.

No point.

I feel like I should post something on here just to keep the blog alive and well, though I don't have much to say. Again.

Except maybe that I'm trying to digitally color a drawing I did and I get the feeling it's going to fail miserably... ah, well. Everyone has to start somewhere, and that "somewhere" is the Land of Failure and Suckishness.

Thankfully, people improve. (Erm, hopefully.) Even I, the worst artist ever (a combination of laziness, busyness, and general lack of talent is never good), have actually IMPROVED over time. Amazing, I know, but it's true. I look at stuff I uploaded to deviantART almost a year ago and cringe at the horror. I'm tempted to take it down and pretend it never happened, but I think it serves as a nice testament to some semblance of artistic improvement. Or something.

***

Sometimes this blog feels like one giant, raging, bubbling cesspool of narcissism. Who cares about what I think? Who cares about what I write? Who cares about the random, mundane, finer points of my life?

Maybe it's because I want to better myself as a writer, improve my (negligible) skill with words, et cetera. But what am I talking about? Myself. Nothing of global importance or national importance or anyone-that-isn't-me importance. I just keep rambling and rambling and expect people to read this and actually care.

How many pronouns have I used that are "I," "me," "my," or "mine"? Too many.

I expect someday I'll catch sight of my reflection in a nice, clear pool in the forest, and I'll fall madly in love with myself and eventually be turned into a flower by sympathetic higher forces.

In which the blogger brags about her amazing friends

Because, you know, they're completely and utterly awesome. Seriously, did funnier people ever exist? I think not.

And also, they give really good hugs.

But even if funnier people did exist, I bet they didn't make math jokes - 

"Okay, guys, let's be rational-"
"No! Never! We are not rational! We are irrational! We are PI!!"

- or come up with such eloquent answers to scientific questions -

"How have you increased the entropy of the universe today? Walking, eating, breathing-"
"BLINKING!"

- or made such a declaration as... um. I'm not really sure how to describe this.

"Today is not yesterday. Today is TODAY."

Yes, we are AP students. I promise.

In which the blogger has nothing to say

...beyond the topic of procrastination.

O, Procrastination. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I'm procrastinating on my massive twenty-percent-of-my-grade theology paper, procrastinating on writing my book, procrastinating on coloring that Tangled doodle I did last night, procrastinating on asking my friend who he went to Sadie's with everything about life except maybe reading A Tale of Two Cities...

OH. OH. SEE, I DO HAVE SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT.

Oh my goodness, I hit the local Borders last night (they're closing! AAAAAGGGHHHHH) and I wanted to get Tale of Two Cities and Sense and Sensibility (or Pride and Prejudice, or both). I ended up getting the TRON: Betrayal graphic novel (which is amazing), A Tale of Two Cities, and Great Expectations, which was paired with it.

They had seven copies of Great Expectations and ZERO of A Tale of Two Cities. How messed up is that?

But anyway, I read the cover flaps for both, and Great Expectations sounded better... but I was told that TOTC was amazing and besides, that was my entire reason for getting the mega-book, so I started reading that first.

It's divided into three parts - Book the First, Second, and Third - and Book the First was blekjalskjglkawsjgtBORING. I SparkNote'd the summary because I had no idea what I was reading.

And then I got to Book the Second.


And then Sydney Carton came in, who is the sexiest fictional drunk to ever grace the literary world absolutely amazing.


...


AHHHHHHHHHHHHH MUST KEEP READING. I got so bored when it switched to Monsieur Whatshisface and Charles Darnay, dirty little spy. GO BACK TO FRANCE AND STAY THERE. And stop jacking up my Sydney Carton scenes.

That's all for now. Need moar Sydney.

AAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH

I must rant. I give you two options, readers:

A) Run away now, or
B) Stay and listen to seemingly obscure complaints that only writers would understand (maybe)

Anyone up for choice A? Yes? No? Mayhap? Your time is now. I'll wait.

...

...

...

You've had enough. RANTING TIME.

So at the end of theology a day or two ago, we had ten minutes to do Whatever We Wanted (Not Including Killing Each Other With a Desk and a Pencil), so I grabbed a random sheet of paper and started noveling, as I am wont to do whenever there's spare time at the end of class (or if the lesson is particularly easy and/or boring, because then I just write during class anyway).

I had the beginning of an idea for a bit near the end of my book, after the climax and after they returned to a hero's welcome and what-have-you, and up until then I hadn't had any ideas for that part at all, so I was considerably excited (being a writing nerd and all).

All was well until I glanced over and realized that THIS GUY WHO SITS NEXT TO ME WAS READING OVER MY SHOULDER AAAGGGHOAJSHRG JAJER;A OAEKRJ GOAOR.

AAAARRRGGGHHHH I HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS. It didn't help that he was actually quite attractive, either. Whenever people do that, I always get paranoid and crazily self-conscious about whatever I'm writing. Formal essays are fine, emails are a little awkward but still okay, comments I post on SparkLife and things are a little weirder but I guess it's fine, but original fiction? HNNGBLARGEKNAKJ LA;ASKJDDDD.

So I just started writing more and more messily until it was entirely illegible, and then I stopped altogether under the guise of checking the time (the clock is in the back of the room).

I hope he doesn't think I'm completely insane. He makes a good partner when our teacher tells us to get into little groups, because he does the work and actually qualifies as a Decent and Friendly Human Being (because everyone else is either a jerk, an idiot, or paired off).

Ack.

Oh.

I think maybe I lost all my blog followers because I didn't post anything for like a MONTH out of sheer laziness/forgetfulness.

Also, I almost just spelled "forgetfulness" wrong.

WHY IS MY LIFE BECOMING SUCH A FAILURE?

--

In other news...there is no other news. The most exciting thing that's happened in a week is the re-discovery of my carrot hat, which I wore for Halloween when I was four years old.

Yes. I was a giant carrot. A giant, adorable carrot. You know you love it.

--

I decided to write five thousand words a week of my book until it's finished. That...probably won't happen, considering I'm supposed to get through seven hundred words today and it's 7:30 and I have written ZERO. Because I'm lazy. And tired. And I had a chem test today so that automatically excuses me from everything else.

Yeah.

To make up for the lack of content in this post, I shall now feature a picture of a dog that looks like the dog I used to have (except my dog was way, way cuter, I swear).

YES I AM ADORABLE LOOK AT MY FACE AND BAWWWWW.

 Actually, I'm pretty sure I have a real picture of her (taken with Photo Booth, but whatever). Maybe I'll try to find that one...

EDIT: YES I FOUND IT.

AHHHHH THE CUTENESS BURNS

YES SHE IS COMPLETELY ADORABLE. It's not a very good pic, considering the blurriness and general overall lameness, but still.

I miss that dog.

OH HO HO.

I think I have an idea for a SparkLife column. >:D

Rolling.

Yes, that was meant to sound wrong.

ANYWAY.

So I got this lovely comment from the amazingly hilarious jtjuvenile (DIDIGETYOURNAMERIGHT? Or should I call you Jessica instead?) and thought it would be a nice opportunity to procrastinate write a new blog post!

"You can't roll your "R"s? Time for some palm contact, 'cause I can't either. *five*"

Why, no, I cannot. I am for some reason completely incapable of making that funny little R noise with my tongue.  My mom and sister in particular have attempted to teach me countless times, but nothing works. I'm just a failure. Is this something that can be taught? Because while I can't roll my R's, I can't properly imitate my friend's accent and the amazing way she says "hamburger" when she's really excited. (When she gets excited, her accent gets thicker.)

But that's okay because in the meantime, while I'm failing, I get to talk to my friend and he'll sit there rolling his R's smugly while I pseudo-glare and concentrate really hard on are his eyes really as blue as everyone says they are? (Because my friend just told me that and I never paid attention, dangit. I should have a long time ago. Like, last year. But whatever.) (Perhaps I should change my mental status from "I don't know if I like him or not" to "Yeah I kinda already do." Because I think my subconscious already changed it for me.)

I think maybe I should decide soon, because in the meantime it's kind of awkward to glare at a certain name in my list of online Skype contacts and think very angry questions concerning his whereabouts during seventh period, during which he's usually in the library panicking about chem with the rest of us.


(LOL THIS IS SO CLICHE WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME)

I think maybe I'll hide this post later on, when my hormones stop flailing around like I just chugged an entire can of Monster. Not that I have ever done that. (Seriously, I actually haven't.)