This is me tonight. Frustrated and tired, to say the least. I have my boyfriend Earl Grey in a lovely new mug and Passion Pit radio playing on Pandora, and I'm hoping both will help me power through this personal essay I need to write for tomorrow. I left it until the last minute, to the surprise of no one who knows me at all, and now I've got to force creativity under a dangerously close deadline. The topic is not an easy one either, and I think I've been somewhat afraid to tackle it. I'm supposed to write an essay on an aspect of my body. Talk about loaded. I have something to write about, but it's a something that happened recently. I feel like I should be wracking my brain for details about five years ago, not five weeks. But despite all my reservations and doubts, some annoying and persistent little voice in my head was like "write about this" and here I am.
I'm writing a blog entry to try and get my creative juices flowing. But the text in this little box sounds so much better than the Word document I've got in another window. My professor tells us that all first drafts are supposed to be shitty, but I hate writing things that are shitty. I hate waiting for my tea to kick in. I want to write for a living and I sometimes wonder how I'll ever do that.
But my life really isn't as dismal as writers' block and exhaustion. For the time being I am employed, and I've got living arrangements for next year. I'm working the Hampshire Fund Telethon, and I had to fill out tax forms and everything. I feel like a legitimate grownup. But this job is way too fun for tax forms. Yeah, I have to ask people for money over the phone, but I also get free dinner and snacks and I get to make jokes with awesome people. It was all worth it when I called my parents and did my whole schpeel (sp?) like "Hi, this is Lisa calling from Hampshire College, how are you doing tonight? I'm calling on behalf of the Hampshire Fund..." They thought it was hilarious that their kid was calling them to solicit them for their money. But they gave generously so it's all good (THANKS GUYS!)
Oh and I have a mod for next year! Because I've got multifaceted friends from all over the place, I'm living in the unofficial "Queer Gamer" mod. My friend who's graduating in May is living with two people who will be in that mod next year, and she told them I needed a place to live, and then they needed a person to live with them, and one thing led to another and now I'm shacking up with the Queer Gamers. I am, by the way, pretty heterosexual and pretty clueless when it comes to any videogame that's not Wii Golf or The Sims. I told my future modmates this, of course. Their general sentiment was "Hey, we're not registered as identity-based and we like you anyway." To which I did a little dance and was like "The feeling is mutual!"
Nothing like a little bit of acceptance to make my cynical old heart all warm and fuzzy. Maybe next year I'll finally learn how to work a video game controller.
Peace, Love, and Semicolons,
Lisa
I'm writing a blog entry to try and get my creative juices flowing. But the text in this little box sounds so much better than the Word document I've got in another window. My professor tells us that all first drafts are supposed to be shitty, but I hate writing things that are shitty. I hate waiting for my tea to kick in. I want to write for a living and I sometimes wonder how I'll ever do that.
But my life really isn't as dismal as writers' block and exhaustion. For the time being I am employed, and I've got living arrangements for next year. I'm working the Hampshire Fund Telethon, and I had to fill out tax forms and everything. I feel like a legitimate grownup. But this job is way too fun for tax forms. Yeah, I have to ask people for money over the phone, but I also get free dinner and snacks and I get to make jokes with awesome people. It was all worth it when I called my parents and did my whole schpeel (sp?) like "Hi, this is Lisa calling from Hampshire College, how are you doing tonight? I'm calling on behalf of the Hampshire Fund..." They thought it was hilarious that their kid was calling them to solicit them for their money. But they gave generously so it's all good (THANKS GUYS!)
Oh and I have a mod for next year! Because I've got multifaceted friends from all over the place, I'm living in the unofficial "Queer Gamer" mod. My friend who's graduating in May is living with two people who will be in that mod next year, and she told them I needed a place to live, and then they needed a person to live with them, and one thing led to another and now I'm shacking up with the Queer Gamers. I am, by the way, pretty heterosexual and pretty clueless when it comes to any videogame that's not Wii Golf or The Sims. I told my future modmates this, of course. Their general sentiment was "Hey, we're not registered as identity-based and we like you anyway." To which I did a little dance and was like "The feeling is mutual!"
Nothing like a little bit of acceptance to make my cynical old heart all warm and fuzzy. Maybe next year I'll finally learn how to work a video game controller.
Peace, Love, and Semicolons,
Lisa
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