So cool thing that happened to me. I'm taking this really awesome class this semester, Creative Writing. The suck-ish bit is that it's only for this semester, and I really do love it. The teacher is this crazy cool lady who is SO good at poetry and really helpful. To be honest, when I signed up for the course, it was really just for shits and giggles, because I didn't really think I would be able to improve with a class a lot of students take as a free A. Luckily, my self-assurance was misplaced, and I honestly think I have grown by leaps and bounds, especially in my poetry, which has traditionally been, um, prose with some artful entering/tabbing. Anyhoo, yesterday, my teacher kept me after class and said she really thinks I'm doing well and wants me to actually sit in on one of next semester's classes and help her teach! Holy hell! I really think that is just about the most super-duper thing anyone's ever asked me. Hoorah!
I've started doing this thing lately where I just take Jane Honda (she's my beloved, slightly decrepit car--rememberize that, OK?!) out and drive around. It's really not very prudent, because I have to buy my own gas. Oh well, less cash for Sarah! I always end up driving by this one...friend's house (golly, I suppose I'll just refer to him as "T"?). I never see him, and I don't even know if he's home, but it really amuses me to honk as I go by. I think it's because almost every day at 3:15, someone honks as they go by MY house, and I'm reasonably sure it's him, because we both have those mega-lame car horns that sound less like "HOOOONK!" and more like "MEEP!" So instead of, "$#%@!", it's more along the lines of, "Well, hiya!" And so now I've started doing that to T's house. It's probably starting to piss off his mom. Which is an intimidating thought, believe you me.
I really loathe talking on the phone. It may have something to do with my utter awkwardness; there's something inherently uncomfortable for me about being on the phone! People always ask me what's up, and instead of just saying something like a normal person, I go into a brief mental tizzy where I can't decide whether anything that's happened to me is important enough to tell the other person. Sometimes I wonder about me.
You know what depresses me? VH1 and MTV. I think it's all the dating shows. Watching that type of show always makes me want to fire peas at the contestants with a slingshot. Plus, is it just me or are there actually only two episodes of Room Raiders that they've just shown three hundred times? They always find the same crap in people's rooms! For a girl, there are a million stuffed animals, some inexplicably outlandish/whorish outfit in the closet, and a colorful bra which the guy then proceeds to check for boobage-plentitude. For a guy, there's always condoms, porn, and women's clothing. And yet, there's always the same reaction. Here's what would be funny: I would leave like a tarantula on the bed and just see what would happen. On second thought...no I wouldn't. The tool would probably kill the tarantula, and then I'd feel awful.
I love that word. "Tool." It's my new favorite thing to call people. There's something delightfully weighty about it! TOOL! You can just spit it out with a smirk, creased eyebrows, and an eyeroll. It's awesome, try it out sometime.
Something truly unfortunate: I definitely have not worked on any of my in-progress stories in ages. "Lapse" and "Whispers" just fell by the wayside. No fear; I'll be sure to just pick them up, dust them off, and jump back in wholeheartedly...at some point. The problem is that I don't quite feel that I'm enthusiastic about either yet, or at least not enough. Of course I love my stories and want them to be awesome, but I want to wait it out more. You'll pardon the standard-transmission reference (Jane is a standard, you know--I can't help it!), but it's sort of like pushing down the gas pedal before releasing the clutch; yeah, the car could GO with less gas, but it will go FASTER with MORE! Wow. I sound like an adolescent boy. Sorry!
On a brighter note, Supernatural, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and Heroes (AKA my top three shows) are back in rotation! HOORAH! In the latter, I really just adore Milo Ventimiglia, better known as Peter Petrelli. Jess was AMAZING on Gilmore Girls, but Peter--awh. So tortured, so sweet, so...INCREDIBLY GOOD-LOOKING! Sorry, you knew it was coming. I'm very pleased by the fact that it's fall and TV is no longer sucky. Kudos for TV.
OK, I really want to start this new story--possibly a one-shot, but I already posted a truly gargantuan one at the beginning of the summer--that's been nagging at me for a while. I won't give too much away, but it could really be fun to do if I can manage to pull it off. Wish me luck, self! LUCKLUCKLUCK!
Well, methinks I've rambled enough to be a legitimately lively journaler! Score one for the good guys.
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