hither and yon

I AM GOING BONKERS OMG WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME

IF I CANNOT FINISH THIS PAPER TODAY

I WILL

LITERALLY

DIE

WHY IS THIS SO HARD, I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS CONTINUOUSLY LIKE NIGHT AND DAY FOR TWO WEEKS AND IT IS STILL NOT FINISHED AND IT IS ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE 6 - 10 PAGES DOUBLE-SPACED WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME

AND NOW MY EARS ARE RINGING!!! GREAT I GUESS I'M GOING TO HAVE A STROKE OR SOMETHING THAT IS GREAT

THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE 5 HOURS OF SLEEP I'VE BEEN AVERAGING FOR THE PAST WEEK OR THE CAN OF CHERRY COKE I JUST DRANK

CAPS CAPS CAPS

I AM SO SAD IN MY HEART RIGHT NOW!!!!!!! THIS PAPER IS NEVER GOING TO BE FINISHED 

LOOK AT ALL MY TAGS, I HOPE THEY ARE AS LONG AS THE ACTUAL ENTRY

WHY DO I HAVE SO MANY AND WHY ARE THEY ALL SO RELEVANT

HOBO CORN

OBAMA'S ICY GLAMOUR

BILLY IN SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE

This entry was started on Saturday when I was sadcat and finished today, when I am not so sadcat. Mm.

I was flipping through my bookmarks and came across something I had uh obviously forgotten about. As an addendum to my "rrgh twitter suxx" post: Color War 2008 which, instead of bitching about twitter, finds a way to make it an actual fun social space. Much more constructive. PS, Ze Frank is one of my most favorite People I Don't Actually Know in the world.

Anyway now I will continue bitching about everything. I have a very strange outlook on the world at this stage of my life. It's like pessimistic nihilism with a hair-trigger hard-on for the ~goodness of man and ~worth of life. Also I fetishize hope pretty hard. I am both desperate to and scared of Believing in people, myself, god, anything. It's a sum total of being a fuck-up and not knowing how to recover from things. Instead I'm just devastated all the time. ~Everyday is a risk I can't take because I don't know how to come back from it. It's self-perpetuating fear, yeah, but it's not unfounded. Like, I know my life is worse off for being scurred all the time but what's the alternative? Shit if there's one thing the past four years have taught me, it's that things can always ALWAYS get worse. 

The Lexabro's not working. Or worse, it IS working, but I'm so fucked-up and shitty that even with the help I'm still a mess. I'm a really sad person.

I guess I have opinions on X-Men! X2 is easily the best movie in the franchise. The new Wolverine movie looks kinda dumb. By kinda I mean shyeah. By shyeah I mean I wish I hadn't eaten the last cookie yesterday. Emma Frost does not look nearly as fabulous enough as she deserves. That was Twilight-level dazzle in the commercials. I will never ever ever understand the appeal of Taylor Kitsch. He is SUCH A BAD ACTOR. WHY DOES NO ONE MENTION THIS???? HE IS TERRIBLE. Also he is fug as hell. I don't understand anyone. Finally, if there is Cyclops in the movie, wherefore no James Marsden? I don't care if he is supposed to be teenager!Cyclops. James Mraaarrrrrrrrrrrsdennnnnn. *__* Man I wish I was more into comic books. 

I went to Fridge's cousin's birthday party on Saturday and got a bit drunk. I don't think I did anything embarrassing but I feel embarrassed anyway. I feel like I am overflowing with want and that everyone can see it. I am neeeeeeeeeeedy. But also, I hate people. It's a tricky situation. For example, I hella wanted (male) attention even though the party was filled with condescending bastards. Tip, you cannot tell jokes to condescending bastards because they will take you seriously and be all "LOL did you JUST say that? THIS GIRL IS SOOO DRUNK." Fuck you, douchebag, I was using my sarcastic voice.

So afterward I missed the last step whilst walking back to the apt and rolled my ankle. Trying to take care of it was a bitch and a half; it took all day today since the medical center isn't open on the weekends. Very convenient, that. It turns out that I fractured the tip of my left fibula. The brace/cast felt like sex when they put it on, omg, soooo comforting. Crutches are hard fucking work. It took me 45 minutes to walk back to the apt when it usually takes 15 minutes and by the end of it I was so tired I could've cried. It was really humiliating and pathetic before I got the crutches though, because I couldn't put any weight on my foot so I seriously had to hop around from like bench to lamp post to side of a building etc. The worst part is that I'm not going to able to work with Library Guy anymore since I can't uh work in stacks. <-- creeper

Midterm was not good. Still don't have a research paper topic. I don't fucking care, I just want to get the fuck out. Even more so with this fracture nonsense.

Some motherfucker is tapping their pencil/fingers/slab of cement/stalactited peen on the desk somewhere in this library. WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS? WHY?? Everyone is already stressed out and crammed in here in these stupid filmsy desks like... things that are stressed out and crammed in, and now this chowderhead is THOCKTHOCKTHOCKTHOCKing the night away.

THOCK THOCK THOCKTHOCKTHOCK
THOCK
THOCK









THOCKTHOCKTHOCKTHOCKTHOCK

WHY?? Is it... because this person is an inconsiderate asshole? Surely not! Listen Anonymous Tapper, if Anonymous Tapping is the way you deal with stress, that's fine, but know that you have just exponentially increased your chances of being punched in the neck with a brick.