That would be me. You know- rladyofpunk or Emma or whatever. I drew that. In class. Because I have no attention span.
New Skool (you know, the stuff I'm writing now?)
Old Skool (archivey-goodness)
And now for some random Delerium:
Hey, guess what! I'm sporadically working on a novel! I think it's cool, but be warned- it's not spell checked (my dictonary keeps being broken) and when I transfered it from word processing to the blog a lot of the spacing got jacked up. Bear with it and read anyway... unless you're offended by sex, drugs and rock n' roll. If you are, FLEE NOW! If not here are the links:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
And this is what Matt Groening (the infallible creator of the Simpsons) recomends for getting by in college:
And since I'm just posting inane stuff at this point, here's my kitty licking her own butt.
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2005-04-02 - 12:03 p.m.
Still.Not.Clean.
My new(ish) keyboard has been baptised. This morning I spilled coffee all over it. You know, just like I did a million times with my old one (and I'm convinced that's why it broke). Oh, but I should mention that by "this morning" I mean about half an hour ago. And that was right after I somehow dropped a bowl full of corn pops and milk in the kitchen, creating the worst mess in history. That happened right after I was awakened from a lovely-trippy dream by the ringing phone. When I picked up there was no one there. It's one of those days.
And hey, speaking of it being one of those days, guess what I'm doing with the rest of it! Well, first I'm mopping the kitchen floor so the milk from the earlier corn pops incident doesn't get sticky/funky. Then taking the clean dishes out of the dishwasher (where they've been dwelling for the last several days) and replacing them with the dirty dishes in the sink (where they've been dwelling for several days). Then I clean the counters. Then I clean the fucking bathroom. Then I take out the trash and vaccum. Then I take the glass and plastic to the recycler. Sounds like a fun day, eh? And the worst part is that of all this cleaning, none of it is the thing that I need to do most. I have a mildewing towel, an entire outfit that got beer spilled on it at the party, and a robe that this morning was soaked in both milk and coffee. As such, my laundry is starting to smell severely weird. Unfortunately I've been spending a lot of late evenings in the art department and to cope with that have been buying granola bars out of the vending machines. To do so I use that stockpile of quarters I'm always carrying around. Of course, those are my laundry quarters. I have spent them all and am unable to go to my parent's place for free laundering. Thus, I am living with an exceptionally smelly pile of fabric.
The only thing that makes me feel better about all of this are the dreams that I carry with me from the night through the day. I dream too much and too vividly- more than anyone else I know. That's why I hate watching movies a lot of the time. You know they can never be as good as my dreams.
The last thing I wrote before this thing. The next thing I wrote after this.
