evilhippo: hippo (13 [writing])
( Aug. 4th, 2005 12:17 pm)
Holy crap have I got a lot to write about. I think I've forgotten the dream I had two nights ago that I meant to write down before I went to bed last night, because it was another of those long, epic, and very strange ones. So, now my dream from last night sits fragmented on my mind, causing me to go wtf a bit more than usual. Since... it was the FMA movie. Only not. At all. And also involved getting my sister to Chicago. And something with someone's birthday party where I was trying to watch over these three kids who kept sneaking crack because we wouldn't let them drink.

Oddly, my dream contains spoilers for FMA. Just... well, series spoilers, because if the movie is like my dream I'm very, very afraid. And whoever was in charge of plot continuum totally gets fired. ) Then after the movie we wandered out onto this beach and then into this big... warehouse sort of thing and things were a bit like Xenosaga for a moment. chaos was there, but he might've been my sister. Then there was the babysitting, and I had to leave to pick my sister up at the airport. I was afraid of taking her home on public transportation since it was already 7 or 8 at night and was going to be dark soon. So I wanted my parents to come, but it would take them 8 hours to get there, so I stuck her on this escalator and told her to wait... which she did, but stepping backwards every few seconds so she didn't go anywhere. Oh, and somehow the airport was on the red line. Ahh, I wish I could remember more of this properly, but it's not working out yet. Hehehe. There was something about a used bookstore, too...

So... yesterday. Yes, yesterday... in which check-out people were scared, pizza was consumed, and Harry Potter was ruined in the best way possible )

And that was my day! Of course, this will be edited about five times, and probably put under a cut in about two minutes when I look at this posted and go "Holy balls, this is long!"
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I almost got hit by a couple of idiot teenagers in a car today. I'm not sure if I should feel old or something, that I can call them idiot teenagers (just because I'm a shade over six months out of the category). But... dude, just because you're in a hurry to get to the mall to look at omg kewl clothes or watch for hot guys or whatever normal teenage girls do at the mall does not mean you're allowed to drive yourself right over into my lane without looking. So not cool. You scared the freaking crap out of me; and I'm not very old yet, so the insurance would still probably go up, even though there is no way that would've been my fault.

I spent most of today wandering around the libraries. It vaguely creeps me out that a lot of the clerks know me, because they must've only seen pictures of me or something... And they always ask me about my mom, and I smile and make polite conversation as I try to remember if I've ever actually met them. The one today somehow knew when I was supposed to go back to school. But the thing that bothers me more? Somehow none of the libraries seem to have a copy of Catch-22 or 1984 laying around. There are only like, four copies in the system, and at least one of each of them is missing. And the rest aren't officially missing, but they're not on the shelf where they're supposed to be, either. It's a conspiracy. So I wandered around and wondered if reading any of the French grammar books would do me any good, since I'm going to have to learn to stop throwing random Japanese into my French before I have to take 202 in September. It's going to be hard, because it's not like I'm going to be able to cut myself off from hearing Japanese... oh well. If there are people that can speak four or five different languages fluently there's no reason I can't manage to keep my two non-english languages seperate. I decided to avoid the grammar books until later in the summer, though, and ended up picking up some random sci-fi book on a whim (it's not very good so far) and a semi-amusing satire-type book on how not to draw manga. I was deeply, deeply disturbed by the How to Draw Manga-type books done by these crazy American midwestern-type people. The style was ugly. I mean, there are ugly art styles. But ugly imiations of an art style that can be quite pretty? Not fun. Oh, and I found a book that was basically about how to draw furries. Scarring? ... it probably would've been if it hadn't been more useful than the other ones I saw. Apparently I just have universal problems with "Teach yourself..."-type books. There's always some strange issue I have with them. Don't like the style. Don't like the teaching method. Poke too many imaginary holes in it, whatever.

Oh, and I ran across so many books that seemed so... poorly written, I guess. Well, not poorly. But - no plot, standard-type prose. I'm such a cynic. And I know if I ever sat down to read these books I'd immediately get the idea that there was no reason that I couldn't be writing things for money. And that's probably not an idea that I should encourage in myself at this point, considering the renewed pressure to major in something "logical." Like econ is logical... pft.

I will not major in econ! At best I'm average in math... why not take advantage of my good verbal scores and do something that way? I've never been interested in one sciency-thing for long, have I? And I've always lost interest when it got hard on me, because it just wasn't fun anymore. Is it that much of a cop-out to want to do something I always find fun? I mean, if I don't care about making money in the long run? As long as I don't have to live in a box or freeze to death in the winter, I should be okay. Gah. I've only got four months to pick a major. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!
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