Log in

Think happy thoughts...

I was seriously doing really well up until about forty-five minutes ago. The sad thing is, I probably wouldn't have even made it this far (end of day 2) without the aid of various controlled substances.

The past two days have been...hectic. I was up at 4:30 yesterday morning (not on purpose), and made a successful move, though not into the dorm I thought I would be in. I had a roommate until this afternoon; she moved out into her own room, so now I'm in a room for two by myself. Which is good, because now I get the bottom bunk, and nobody was around to witness my minor breakdown. I held myself together saying goodbye to my mom yesterday, but once my dad and my brother (who is now officially a Hokie) left this afternoon, it all just let loose. I guess it's just knowing that I won't see my friends and family for a while.

I went to class today, though, and it wasn't horrible. I think I can pull this off, even though my Stat professor...well, let's just say education is not her true calling. It's going to be a very busy month, but not unmanageable, I don't think. I think I'm just homesick. And alone. It'll pass, god willing. I'm also probably on edge thanks to sleep-deprivation; I didn't sleep much last night either.

So now I will go do my work like a good girl who wants to graduate from college sometime in the next decade, and then maybe I can get a decent amount of sleep tonight. That's right: eyes on the prize.


Oh my god, I can't believe I'm doing this.

Okay, don't panic. Do not panic.

Sleep. Sleep is good. Don't panic.


Oh my god, today is Monday. I have two days to organize my entire life, and I don't know where to even begin. After months of planning, I'm finally leaving. And I don't know if I'm ready, or if I ever will be.

I'm scared shitless. It wasn't this bad the first time. Fuck.

I'm going back to sleep.

Yanked from everybody and their mom

So apparently the average adult has supposedly read only six out of the following 100 books.

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you LOVE.
4) Reprint this list in your own LJ so we can try and track down these people who've read 6 and force books upon them ;-)

Let's count...Collapse )

The fruits of my labors.

Semester: Summer 2008
STAT 212 - Introduction to Statistical Analysis. 1030 - 1245 MTWRF
ENSP 385 - Film Noir: From Chinatown to Sin City. 1300 - 1515, 1900 - 2100 MTWRF
Total Credits: 7

Semester: Fall 2008
BIOL 121 - Human Biology and Disease. 0900 - 0950 MWF
ENWR 210 - Apocalypse and Dystopia. 1300-1350 MWF
SOC 255 - Law and Society. 0800 - 0915 TR. Disc: 1000 - 1050 F
ENRN 321 - Shakespeare I. 0930 - 1045 TR.
RELI 207 - Classical Islam. 1100 - 1215 TR. Disc: 1300 - 1350 R
Total Credits: 15

2008 Credit Total: 22
Months it took to get this far in the readmission process: 3
Minutes on ISIS figuring this all out: 68 (with two refreshes)
Number of times the word "fuck" or its derivatives were used during those 68 minutes: Too many to count.

Alas, in my boredom...

1. Pick 15 of your favourite movies.
2. Go to IMDb and find a quote from each movie.
3. Post them here for everyone to guess.
4. Fill in the film title once it's guessed.
5. NO GOOGLING/using IMDb search functions.

1. On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero. [Fight Club]

2. It's not right for a woman to read. Soon she starts getting ideas, and thinking...

3. Did I ever tell you about the time I shoplifted a frozen turkey out of a Piggly Wiggly wearing only a tube top and daisy dukes?

4. Throw one at me if you want, hash-head. I've got all five senses and I slept last night, that puts me six up on the lot of you.

5. I'm sick of sleeping with these insipid Manhattan debutantes. Nothing shocks them anymore.

6. The 90's are killing me. I shouldn't have done that. You're not supposed to tell a guy you're gonna kill him no more. I got to tiptoe through the tulips with these assholes. Taking all the fun out of the job.

7. Ten oughta do it, don't you think? You think we need one more? You think we need one more. All right, we'll get one more. [Ocean's Eleven]

8. A woman happily in love, she burns the souffle. A woman unhappily in love, she forgets to turn on the oven.

9. Music's the only thing that makes sense anymore, man. Play it loud enough, it keeps the demons away.

10. Well, I've always believed that if done properly, armed robbery doesn't have to be an unpleasant experience.

11. You people. If there isn't a movie about it, it's not worth knowing, is it?

12. Oh, there he goes off to his room to write that hit song "Alone in My Principles."

13. Oh, he's doing his own theme music? Big, dumb and tone deaf. I am so glad I was unconscious for all of this.

14. Ladies, you have to be strong and independent, and remember, don't get mad, get everything.

15. Yeah, it's like a plumber: do your job right and nobody should notice. But when you fuck it up, everything gets full of shit.
"This article said that people who listened to our music...they called you a CULT. And said we promote self-harm and suicide. I am so sorry if any of you were hurt by hearing this. You will know that it's not true. We want you to live. We want to save your lives. You saved ours. We never want to let a single thing hurt any of you. And you should all know...if you support us...you are not a cult. You are a fucking ARMY." - Gerard Way

I think y'all are overdue for some fangirling. Well, the word "fangirl" brings to mind the image of a teenybopper squealing over the latest band to hit MTV. Remind me to come up with a better word. I don't think there's a proper word for my relationship with this band - because I do seriously have a relationship with them, through their music. While a few have come close, I have yet to find another artist who inspires me as much as these five men do, both as musicians and as people.

When I tell strangers that I'm a My Chemical Romance fan, I can see the screen of stigma drop between us almost immediately. Like it or not, definitive types of people are associated with certain fanbases. In the early days of punk rock, if you were a fan, you were an anarchist. Like chick indie rock? Might as well stamp "dyke" on your forehead. MCR's fans, of course, are all depressed adolescent cutters.

Stereotypes, while unfair, have to start somewhere. When it comes to music, a deeply personal experience for a lot of people, the type of person you are and the kind of things you care about are going to influence your tastes. A couple of years ago, I was the MCR stereotype: the dyed-black hair, heavy eye makeup, and all-black clothing were a phase that I've since grown out of, but underneath that, I was a really unhappy kid, struggling with an as-yet undiagnosed mental illness by myself. I did resort to self-injury, but you really don't want to hear me get on my SI soapbox right now, so we'll just say that it was one of my many poor coping mechanisms.

A lot has happened in the past few years, and while I'm still nowhere near the picture of well-adjustment, I'm making progress. Self-injury became an addiction that I had to kick, and I've never been very good at breaking habits. But while I've moved away from that image associated with MCR fans, I've become even closer with their music, because of what I've been through. The band members can play their instruments, they're amazing to their fans, and they're open about their own struggles, letting those listeners who are troubled know that they're not alone. As if that wasn't enough to make me love them, they've made music that's probably saved my life many times over. So I'll proclaim my love and support for these guys from the rooftops, and people can go ahead and judge me for being "scene" or liking "emo" music, because I honestly don't give a fuck. Labels are a tool of the oppressor.

Wow, I didn't mean for this to turn into an essay. It started out as a reaction to that quote up there and I didn't find anything else better to do since I started typing.
So back in the day, before I had the distinctive musical taste I have today (a long time ago), I had a Last.fm account. I don't remember my username, but I'm sure it would've been pretty funny to look back and see what I listened to before I entered the oh-so entrancing world of genres with names like mathrock, psychobilly, and metalcore.

In my infinite boredom, I've stumbled upon it again, and now that I have an iPod, I'm sure the expanded range of variety is represented better. So if you've got an account, add me. If you don't have an account, fucking make one, already! Click.

On another note, Facebook seems to have no boundaries when it comes to how stalker-like it can go.

you say you care for me
but hide it well
how can you love someone
and not yourself?

and who is gonna save you when i'm gone?