There's Something Wrong With Contemporary Authors

Did Dickens ever "let" the book steer itself? Did Shakespeare "let" the plays develop on their own? Hell no. They were in absolute control of their books and their story lines. So I fucking finished Harry Fucking Potter and the Fucking Half-Blood Fucking Prince.

I hate her -- JK Rowling -- she says that the books had a mind of their own and that's why she writes the types of stories that she does. Fuck her!

What started as a beautiful children's fantasy story (sort of -- considering Harry's parents were killed), has turned into a depressing, misery-filled, sordid story of death, destruction, deformity and disillusionment -- and let's not even go so far as to include how I FEEL after I finish the fuckers. What is this? Fucking Bambi?

These are not pretty books anymore. Fuck JK Rowling and the broomstick she rode in on!

I know a lot of big words

I do, really, have an okay vocabulary. I understand all the big words in all of the literary criticism I've been buried in for the last week. I think I have a problem, though. Instead of working to finish my papers and such, I write down cool big words and try to figure out how I am going to put them in my blog.

It's not so much the big words as the cool connections that they make with other words around them.

I will include some here when I can. In the meantime, talked to Kurtis online last night. Good to talk to him. My mother is now on insulin -- she forbade (is that right?) me to tell anyone -- so I'll, instead, get it out there on the internet, okay? Albina and Yashuhiro (yeah, like I spelled that right) came over to swim yesterday. Lia tried to bite Yashuhiro -- not nice. She was behaving very badly. My big presentation in Victorian Lit has been postponed until Monday; my presentation for linguistics has been postponed until Tuesday. I have to finish my Victorian Lit test this weekend. I have no movies to watch because I again poorly timed my Netflix returns. I have worried a lot lately about whether or not I will ever get a job when I graduate. I am afraid I will have to move into Chicago to work at one of the City Colleges -- and I hated Chicago while I lived there. It's a job requirement if I'm hired full time. I'm trying to read Harry Potter #6 but I am only 250 pages in and I'm bored. I hope it picks up soon. I need to call Stephanie tonight -- It would be nice to talk to her. I am out of cigarettes and I'm too lazy to go and but more. I think Joe just went out for one and he probably left his in the cubicle. No -- he was out too and was looking to see where I hid mine. Wait -- he found them.

I'm going now. I should work on my Victorian Lit presentation -- it was finished, but now I want to add more since I have 4 extra days.

I am so disappointed in myself

Okay, I was cool with the incomplete in Linguistics because I don't need the class for anything. But I need Victorian Literature. I am really happy about my progress on the paper, but I had to put it aside to work on the exam and I am not doing well on that right now. I only got about 1/3 of the first of two essays written over the weekend. I haven't finished my presentation materials as yet (but the bar for those has been set rather low -- I think I'll be fine with whatever I do).

So here is my issue -- I have 2 weeks left and I am not done with any of the three major assignments (outside the reading) in that class. I have barely started two of the three and haven't even hashed out the third. Dr. May is giving me an incomplete -- he expects my paper before the Fall term begins.

I hate to admit this to myself, but this has been a rough summer for me with the excessively warm weather and this new disease. I'm really tired all of the time and the heat exacerbates the issue with my eye. It takes anywhere from 4-6 hours for my vision to come back to "normal" (it will never be normal again -- it may be 20/20, but there is a weird distortion in the middle that lingers -- normal, according to my doctors). I contemplated going back on the Lexipro, but I'm off of it now, and frankly, I get more "ideas" for my papers, I enjoy the literature more, I laugh really hard (even when it's really not appropriate), I cry when people die and I relish the few quiet moments I spend with Lia. All of this is possible when I am not chemically altering my personality. The Lexipro took the edge off of everything -- the bad and the good. No thanks. I'd rather endure the low, lows and still be able to enjoy the high, highs.

Anyway, I have spent more time plowing through my readings than I would have liked because I am so tired all of the time -- it's Victorian Literature! It's really boring and I fall asleep (I really am enjoying Mill, though). The extra time spent on reading has prevented me from dedicating appropriate amounts of time to research and writing.

Who am I really kidding? I have always been a procrastinator. But, I have always pulled it out. I have never had to take an incomplete (I've taken extensions of a day or two on paper due dates, though). I have always had the energy and drive to pull it out of my ass at the last minute at the end of every term (and I almost always get A's -- except for the fucking Romantics -- God I hate Wordsworth! Byron, entertaining. Keats, enjoyable. Coleridge, fucked up -- Wordsworth -- what an arrogant, self-righteous fuck!)

I used to thrive on stress -- I did my best writing at 2:00 in the morning the night before a paper was due. I never started the paper until a few days before it was due -- if I started early at all. I was good at churning out A's under fire.

I am going to have to rethink my plans for the fall. I will actually have to study on time. I will actually have to follow my calendar as I lay it out. This includes grading papers, preparing lessons, writing papers, reading, preparing for class, etc. Fuck. I will have to be a seriously dedicated student for the first time in my life. I once assured a friend who was academically "distressed" that I wasn't THAT good as a student. He said, "But you're doing it." He was right. I am doing it. I will have a Master's Degree.

I wonder if I can still get A's if I actually plan ahead.

Birthdays

"I'm single because I was born that way." -- Mae West

Okay, with that said, I must say more. I was thinking about my birthdays. Most notable was my 15th because I received the best birthday gift I ever got -- on my 15th birthday, my baby brother was almost born -- my mother labored all day on my birthday but little Mr. Stubborn wanted his own birthday -- and managed to ruin my birthday party in the process.

But this allows me to seque into my topic for today: It's my blog and I can be selfish and ungrateful if I want to!

I mean, it's not that I haven't gotten stuff -- dinner, a song, a day out (mini-golfing rocked), a day to hang out with my friends, etc. I don't remember opening a lot of presents -- unwrapping paper and bows with surprises in the box. My mother has taken to handing me gifts in shopping bags or QVC boxes with no wrapping paper (when I actually get anything). My grandmother (for a long time) sent me a card with a running tally of how much money I owed her. Now I get a recycled birthday card (sometimes it's a Christmas card she got from some nun somewhere) and occasionally a check for $15.00.

Some of my friends have given me presents in gift bags and the like -- and actually, Chris wrapped up something for me in a really cool Queen Elizabeth wrapping paper once (I think it was a book) -- but what is my point? I know, I know. I'm dwelling. I have a point that I'll get to soon.

One year, my birthday present from two (at the time) "very good friends" was that I took them camping. I paid for the gas, the camp site, the firewood, the booze, the cigarettes, the food. And lest I forget -- I had to pay for my own birthday dinner and for theirs, too. But I went skinny dipping while drunk in the Mississippi River. I can still smell that at times -- I don't know if it was the river or the wine we poured into the camp fire. The scent lingered -- and still does.

I used to get a million phone calls on my birthday. I used to be able to get dozens of friends together for a night out or a pool party.

Last year, I went out with one (very close) friend to somewhere I didn't really want to go but felt like I had to because I had done that same thing on my birthday for some 10 years before. He was really nice about dragging me out even though I think he knew I really didn't want to go, either.

A birthday (I think 4 years ago) marked the LAST time I would spend the night on the bathroom floor and the next 2 days nursing a massive hangover. I haven't been drunk since. Note to self: Chasers work for up to "6 drinks." A martini counts for about 2 1/2 drinks. In other words, I can't have 6 martini's and still enjoy the preventative effects of Chasers. My math sucks.

I turned 21 on a camping trip to Wisconsin Dells with my ex-boyfriend and his friends -- I often quip that I turned 21 at an Ozzy Osborne concert. Technically, I turned 21 downtown Wisconsin Dells carrying a bottle of wine I had picked up at a local tourist site -- I am not lying though, because on my birthday, we drove down to Alpine Valley and went to see Ozzy. I recall that I was driving because I was the only one who had a car that could carry more than 2 people. Actually, it was a rental -- I had totalled my first car only a week before the trip. I couldn't use the pool at the campground because I had stitches in my knee from the accident. But I spent my 21st birthday at an Ozzy concert.

This year, I expect no gifts from my family. I didn't get any gifts from them last year, either. I haven't really gotten a birthday present from any family member for about 5 years. We all get birthday dinners, though. Usually, the whole family comes over and everyone contributes a little something to the meal. This year, though, Mom and Dad are taking Michael and I out for our birthdays to the Chicago Chop House for dinner, tonight. I just have to say, though, that Michael got his presents from my mom already (a shoping trip to Carson's a few weeks ago). I am receiving no such shopping trip -- I can only hope that my mother doesn't bug me for a check to pay her back for all the crap she charged me for the last two months.

[UPDATE: Mom came downstairs a few minutes ago -- 11:45 or so -- and wished me happy birthday. She also "reminded" me that the swimming suit she gave me last month is my birthday present -- whatever happened to wrapping paper and bows -- brown paper packages tied up with string? Anyway, I didn't have the heart to "remind" her that I wrote her a check for that last month -- I have the carbon with "swimsuit" written in the memo area. So another birthday with no package to unwrap, dammit.]

Waah, waah, waah. I know. This is a pity party. I feel so damned self-righteous and wronged this morning. What the fuck?

I could go on for hours -- but I'll stop here before this turns into a diatribe on how I always get the short end of the stick in this family. I've got that whining tirade typed up in Word and ready for the day I've had enough and decide to post the complaints on the refrigerator.

So, in short -- it's my fucking birthday. Don't even think about asking how old I am! But, on the upside, I have no gray hair and I feel really good. I guess it's not so bad. I have a puppy who is FINALLY potty training!

Insurance Companies Suck

My health insurance costs me $250 per semester. I suppose that's not really that much considering. My father sells insurance and I know that private health insurance is more expensive than that -- I think that might be a monthly fee, in fact.

The bastards have denied every one of my bills connected with my recent illness (except my primary care physician because he submitted the bill as "check-ups").

I'm smouldering over this so I really have nothing much else to say. I am sitting on some $20,000 in medical bills that I can't pay. I suppose I will either have to declare bankruptcy or work out some life-long payment arrangement. Fuck.

Found a new blog

And I've followed too many links from that blog on a wild goose chase. So, here's the cool blog I found.

The Casual Friday

The guy is just all kinds of funny.

And following stupid links led me to this:

You Are Strawberry Ice Cream

A bit shy and sensitive, you are sweet to the core. You often find yourself on the outside looking in. Insightful and pensive, you really understand how the world works. You are most compatible with chocolate chip ice cream.

What Flavor Ice Cream Are You?

First of all, I don't think I'm even remotely like the "flavor" description. Second, I would think I'd have to like strawberry ice cream before I would BE strawberry ice cream. I don't. I'm not sure why, because strawberry anything just rocks. But I don't particularly care for ice cream other than pralines and cream or chocolate.

Anyhow, gotta stop following links. I found the blog on Blogger's "Blogs of Note." This is the first one I've looked at from the list that I've actually enjoyed. Frankly, other than Tom's, Chris' and sometimes Jeff's (but he updates something like once a year), I don't read other blogs -- now I'm hooked, though, on The Casual Friday.

I'm off to bed early. Lia has worn me out -- she swims a lot. Now she has a new bed and is chewing happily on her Greenie (from Aunt Janelle's new store Wags to Whiskers). By the way, the Greenies are actually cleaning Dutch's icky-gross teeth. Good stuff.

Oh, the Pressure

Now that I know that I actually have a few readers, I have pointedly set about NOT posting. I cannot handle the pressure of knowing that someone is looking for what I might say next -- I inevitably will let them down. First, because I am not profound or clever in my posts. Second, I have become incredibly busy of late primarily because I have procrastinated too much -- had to take an incomplete in linguistics to avoid having a "B" tarnish my otherwise already tarnished GPA. I have to finish all of the course work, but the professor and I made a deal -- I still give it my "all" and he'll give me an incomplete that will turn into a permanent incomplete after 6 months. After all, I didn't need the course -- I shouldn't suffer for academic curiosity (according to my prof -- but curiosity killed the cat, right?).

Speaking of "pressure" -- here's a Lia update: She has a really bad bladder infection. That's pressure! This is good. It means I am not a horrible mother. It means I am not using faulty training techniques. It means she's not stupid. She really can't hold her pee-pee. Yeah! Bladder infection! This is good and it only cost me another fucking $75.00.

Moody

Probably PMS -- but a picture from Albina will suffice to explain the current state of mind.

Indifference (of lovely hates)

Okay on Paper, not so good on Training

Dr. May approved my study of "black" in Jane Eyre. I took Chris' advice and searched a full text version of Jane Eyre. I also employed the technique Dr. DeRosa taught me in passing. I replaced all instances of "black" and "dark" with highlighted versions of same and saved those in my computer. Boy I hope we have a lot of available memory on this thing.

I'll delete all of these after I transfer the data to my actual copy of the book. It seems counteractive, I know, but really -- I can't write a paper on the computer without hard notes -- and there's no reason to print out some 1000 pages of computerized text. I'd be better off to skim and transfer.

Sorry to all of those people out there who believe in everything electronic replacing paper and books. I just don't think I can embrace that theory for my own scholarly studies.

Lia is learning "heel" (thanks, Tom) really well, still. But she seems to have regressed on peeing/pooping in the house. Some of this is most definitely my fault (and in theory, it is always my fault if the dog messes in the house). I think, though, that some of these "accidents" are more like "tests." That dog is really smart. She knows what I expect of her when we go outside. I was busily mopping up one area where she had an unattended accident (when Dad was watching her) and then the little snot squatted right in front of Dad and I and peed in another spot. I yelled at her, but Dad spanked her -- I was very much unhappy about this -- I do not want that dog beat. I have bought into the "showing her the spot when you catch her" theory -- but I will not let my Dog get beat -- which led to another whole issue, of course. Big fight with the parents and another "get the fuck out" ultimatum. Great. We'll see if this blows over.

Gotta go. Working on still more Linguistics homework (spent 4 hours at Denny's last night and another 3 hours with Chris this afternoon -- I probably have another 4 hours to work before I'm totally caught up). I also have to work on Vanity Fair. I tried to watch the movie -- boring with a capital "Reese." I'll try again on that tonight if I am given the chance. I promised Chris I would join him for some "sitting around the fire and drinking on a nice summer evening" tonight at his parents' house.

Lia sits on my feet and licks my legs. Cute -- but somewhat annoying. Dutch is barking at the back door. He is doing much better these days -- seems to have regained some of his spark.