Warning: Ree is in snarky mode. You have been warned.
Geez, I don't know anything lately. It's like junior year of high school all over again -- NOT a good feeling. (Come to think of it, I barely remember any of my freshman year except my only friend moving away, and sophomore was a long collage of slacking. Senior year was decent, good even, until my dad fucked it up with the whole "I'm leaving your mom and you kids for a 53 year old band teller named Barb" shebang.)
I'm making with the tangents already. This is not a good sign, but then I didn't have any real content for this entry.
Um. Hoo boy. Getting prodded with increasing force to get a job. If mom starts using the word "productive" I'm going to slap her with lettuce leaves and inform her that I live a produce-free life. She's very big on that and I don't really care. I officially failed both my summer classes, which blows goats. I really miss being in school -- not those damn online classes, but real school, with teachers in classrooms and me not taking notes because, dear God, they're trying to teach my Shakespeare again. Which of my three editions of that play do you want me to bring to class, teach? And I swear if you try to teach me what "marry" means, I'll snore audibly. I mean it.
Shit. I used to feel smart and -- crap. Sin says there are three ways of thinking. (I think he's full of crap half the time, but this is his theory we're gonna mention, not mine, as I don't really have one.) He says there's common sense people, emotional people, and intellectuals. Men tend to be common sense, and women are usually emotional. (Gee, he's not chauvanistic or anything... gah.) I, to hear him speak, am intellectual -- overlooking common sense and emotion to seek my goal.
I have to disagree with him. It's true that I'm sadly lacking in what is ironically dubbed "common sense" despite being seen in precious few people. I am emotional, though. Hello, I have a mood disorder? Yeah, where've you been, boy? Eh, maybe he says that just to be nice. Once my panic and gloom settle down, I'd like to think I can solve problems more or less rationally. It takes awhile for me to get to that point.
I've discovered in recent thinking that I don't think there's any shame in living off someone else's money. It's good work if you can get it. The problem is that not many people have the kind of money to throw around to support another person unless they are DEEPLY emotionally attatched.
It's kind of funny the way my brain takes "you need to look into a job, Ree" and turns it into "write more! Get published!" Oh yeah, because literary agents are on the prowl for my kind of science fiction, full of cliched monsters and archetypes. Woo-ee. It's not quite as bad as I make out, really, but it does need a lot of work that I can't always give it. I try to write and write a lot when I find myself at all able to stream out a story, but there are days when I want to write something simple -- say, a poem of eight-syllable lines and rhyming couplets -- and it just won't come. I stare at the screen and try to mash a few nifty words around and a poem they will not make.
Eh, moving on.
Ooh! New housemate so my rent goes down a bit. Goodness. Sin's still thinking another gal will show just before classes start and want a room with us too. That would fill the house, hurrah! Low rent is good. So's low utilities, though I guess we really can't balance those now -- Sin's, um, out of town (*snicker*) for a few days. Unfortunately, anyone else moving in would leave Jo without a room, as she -- er -- well, she isn't on the lease for reasons of her own, which, being hers, aren't mine to share. I'd hate to see her go, but if she won't sign the lease and someone else will, I wouldn't even have a say in it, really. The others in the house could get that lease signed without me even knowing about it until after the fact, and Jo would have to move her stuff out. She'd also want to me take in one of her adorable but whiny kittens, which I have to admit I would probably do. They are cute and I missed having kittens running about.
So. Very. Tired. Not fair, not fair!
What else. Peanut thinks my daddy has been calling lately because he really cares about me; Sin thinks it's because he's availing himself of the opportunity to further fuck with my head. Perhaps he just wants to clear up how much he owes (per the divorce agreement he signed) for his half of my summer school tuition, books, and board. He mentioned in messages, though, something about wanting to know how I was doing. I'm a bit inclined to tell him that I regularly carve my leg just to watch his blood in mine flowing away from me, but that IS just a little harsh. (Never let it be said that I lack a wicked sense of humour, or a twisted one.) Daddy has a habit of doing just enough psuedo-parenting to keep his business peers from realizing what an ass he is, and I think now he's just trying to save face for not asking me to come to that family reunion awhile back.
I really wish those online classes had worked out, but something just wasn't right -- the timing, the format, the subject matter? I don't know. (I'm driving myself nuts with my constant use of "I don't know" to answer questions, but I honestly don't know. Maybe it's not the reflexive answer but the fact that it's truth that bothers me.) I really must find out if I can take another class online or if I'm out on my ear. I strongly suspect I'm on probation but able to take another semester. That or they'll just keep gladly accepting my money. Either way, I should be able to try again if I like.
I really think a lot of my problem was taking two summer classes at the same time. There was a LOT of material to cover in very little time, and there wasn't a structured classtime either. It was very free-form and that didn't work very well for me. The deadlines were Sunday nights, which made having fun weekends hard -- made relaxing at all kinda hard. I had people telling me "so finish your work early and THEN relax!" but I spent the week reading, looking for further information online, trying to chose essay topics, that kind of thing. Classes certainly didn't dominate every moment of my life but they ate a fair chunk of it, right after a long period of time when I was accustomed to doing whatever I liked all day long, and didn't have any real responsibilities or deadlines at all.
On the other hand, I still found time to play online, for instance. It's not like I devoted myself to my classes the way I probably should have. Maybe that kind of discipline just isn't within me. It seems plausible.
I'm kinda of leaning towards taking perhaps just one class online this fall, leaving as little room for error as possible -- but what then? I'd need two classes completed well to get back into my old uni, which would mean at least another semester after that to get back in. An entire freaking year to complete two classes? Urk.
I can't concentrate on my journal while The Daily Show correspondents act like perfect dolts. Heh.