This blog is a collection of a young woman's random thoughts, many tangents, and occasional
short stories and novel excerpts. Stay tuned for plenty of bull and brief moments of brilliance.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Insights, Wisdom, and Random


Sometimes, mainly on campus or at bars in Iowa City, I feel old as fuck. In some of my classes though there are adults and they think I'm adorable and sweet and little. When I go home next weekend I'll be one of the kids again, regardless of the fact I'm twenty one years old. And at work I feel slightly older mainly because I've been there three years now. And in my room I am...me.

I forgot what it was like to be alone a lot. I'm not talking lonely, but alone (yes, Kelly Clarkson lyrics did just run through my head...damn). Sitting alone in my room is refreshing, though I do eventually start talking to myself. I find myself thinking a lot more, not only about sad things but about my life in general.

Am I lonely sometimes? Do I wake up in the middle of the night wondering why there isn't someone next to me? Do I stop periodically on a walk home from class and feel a pain in my stomach? Do I want to scream every so often, "Fuck all this shit," and cry? Yes, yes, yes, yes, but the difference is now, two months later, it's not everyday. I have good days and bad...today is somewhere in between.

I love the rain. When I'm feeling so-so, not horrible melancholy but a tad, and of course a bit reminiscent, it's the perfect setting. I'll cuddle up under my covers for a couple minutes and stare out my window, watch the gloomy skies swirl and grow and flutter away. They are like ripples throughout the sky; it's beautiful. If I'm feeling happy, the rain rarely can ruin that. If I'm feeling like shit, I'm like, "Well at least someone understands! Thanks, God!"

Anyways, where was I...ah yes, feeling old. Senior year has been interesting, mainly in that for the first time in my sixteen+ years of schooling I hate school. Studying for midterms? Oh, you mean briefly glossing over my study guide minutes beforehand (slight exaggeration)? Seriously though, fuck studying.

When I see people studying feverishly, I assume they are not seniors, trying to get into a really tough grad program, or never went to class and are now freaking out. A girl in my religion class studied with me briefly and I caught sight of her epic study guide. Thirteen pages long, two facts on each topic and color-coded. And she's a senior, trying to get into grad school, but still.

Holy fuck, did I suddenly feel inadequate.

People going off to grad school? I'm starting to be envious of you. Even though I'm over school, I don't want to grow up. Nope. Nope. Nope. I need to stop being friends with so many juniors, because it's giving me this false sense of security in thinking I don't have to graduate in the spring. People are like, oh what's your job gonna be?

I think I've given about four different answers, most of them lies...because the truth is I have no fucking idea. Sorry people. I'm still trying to pick up the pieces of my heart here and keep on top of school work without imploding, and you want me to give you a five-year plan? Fine then, I'll do what I do best: bullshit my way out of it.

And that's my insight for the day, children: bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Knowing how to bullshit will get you far in life, or at least far enough to survive. If I didn't have such keen powers of bullshit-able-ness, I would have actually had to give a flying fuck about plays I've gone to see or random articles I've read.

Those short reflection pieces you have to write so often? BULLSHIT TO THE RESCUE! Knowing a fair amount in a couple subjects (for me, that would be the Bible, Shakespeare, Harry Potter, literary theory, basic mythology) will help greatly, along with some basic creative writing skills. Take your limited knowledge about this vast world and apply it to any situation.

Do you have any idea how many times I've used one random mythological story in an English class to sound smart? Or spouted off facts about biblical women in a religion class based off of the facts I had to memorize in high school biblical studies? Or used philosophical ideas I learned in Harry Potter to make way in a roundabout drunken discussion? Far too many times, my friends.

I'm reminded of Jon Stewart's phrase during his mock debate with O'Reily: bullshit mountain. It was a mythical place where hardcore conservatives lived (mainly FOX news). I'm not saying one should live on bullshit mountain, but while in school, a couple field trips never hurt anyone.

As long as you remember you're talking out of your ass, you'll survive with your soul intact.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

I Wish, I Wish

Wishing on dandelions and stars and eyelashes seems to lead to heartbreak. We wish for things we know won't come true and are sad when they don't. We can even wish for simply happiness and when sadness lingers, we still feel like the fucking flowers are ineffective.

Having an overall emotional breakdown/identity crisis is not ideal during your senior year of college. I despise the majority of my classes and restrain myself daily from screaming, "Fuck you," at my various professors. I am sick of interpreting poor literature and trying to pretend it's fucking brilliant.

No, wrong wrong wrong. Just sit there in your wrongness and accept that the work sucks.

I'm mainly referring to my playwriting class. We are expected to read various plays, have thoughtful responses, and write numerous plays as well. Any writing class I've ever been in has a couple projects with minimal guidelines you are expected to finish over the course of the semester. In Playwriting? Oh no, of course not.

We are expected to churn out a new, brilliant, original play every single fucking week. How in God's name am I supposed to do such a thing, a new ten page play every week??? On top of this, there are other assignments. None of which, I may add, have aided in my writing skills.

So to keep up with the course work (of mother fucking PLAYWRITING ONE) I'm turning in work of which I am not proud. This kills my creative soul. And the next week, I get another set of stupid guidelines, and have to do it all over again. It's debilitating. It's a three hour class once a week and I hate it beyond everything.

My other classes are okay, but none of them inspire me in the slightest. On top of my already bad mood this semester, this is just the icing on top of the fucking cake. I have my Banned from the Bible class in two hours, the only one I actually like, and I'll have to skip it to write another goddamn play for my class later tonight. I hate everything right about now.

I'm having a hard time this semester, stemming from the fact I don't want to graduate and am terrified of the future. Coping with a broken heart and the accompanying loneliness doesn't help much either. I come home, go to work, see friends occationally, and turn in work I hate about writing I hate for classes I hate. Overall, it's been a trying half of the semester.

So all the dying dandelions I see on the side of the road, I am still wishing upon. Instead of heartfelt but futile wishes though, I'm wishing for stability. I'm wishing to make it through this semester. I'm wishing to find a purpose amidst all this frustration, anger, and loneliness. I'm wishing it's a couple weeks from now so I can go home and hold the little twins in my arms. I'm wishing for something to make me hate this semester less.

And as the dandelion seeds blow through the slightly-crisp fall air, I have hope. I haven't made it this far without that, no? Dealing with the upcoming 4 1/2 year mark for my mom is more fuel to the fire. Again though I've gotten through everything with a hopeful attitude, and I can't lose that now.

Alright, time to write this mother fucking play...and figure out how I can express my general hatred of this horrible class.