I don't even want any candy.

Today: a shot on both arms, holographic star-shaped bandages from the nurse dressed as a fairly princess, and the realization that I need to write a research paper by tomorrow morning. Happy Halloween, guys.

At the University of Krissy, acceptance will be based on awesomeness. No essay required (but if you want to submit one--hey!).

For a while now, I should have been working on college application essays. I've just been so sick of hearing about college, and school, and test scores, and everything else that goes along with the application process, that I've ignored it. Even I can only procrastinate so long, though, and I sat down today to start an essay for my Earlham application.

Seriously! I sat down, intent on cranking out some bullshit essay (to be modified later), just so I could say that I started. Well, it's actually not that easy. I can write a six-page research paper the morning that it's due, but this had me stumped. What am I supposed to say? How can I sort through all of my life experiences and label just one as the most valuable? And honestly, is what I consider valuable what these colleges want to hear about?

I want to write about the car ride home from the hospital after recieving morphine for the first time, watching Christmas lights whiz by, drifting in and out of consciousness, feeling utterly safe and happy and childlike. I want to write about Aly's backyard in September, when everything is yellow and lovely. I want to write about Angie's house in the summertime, or even about slicing parsnips with my shiny new chef's knife. I want to write about bowling with my cousins the day after Christmas in a smoke-filled, flavored-condom-dispenser-in-the-bathroom, small-town recreational league bowling alley.

I do NOT want to write about my experience with chronic illness and what I've learned from it.

But, alas. That's probably what my essay will be about, simply because it's the most suitable topic.

At least I'm not addicted to nicotine...

Oh, community college: "Where nobody actually wants to be".

Alas, I am stuck stuck stuck for this year, and while there are worse alternatives (senior year of HS), community college is living up to its unofficial slogan. I am utterly apathetic. Like everybody else here. We're all just kind of going to class (or not), usually with some sort of goal in mind, but nobody (save the nursing students) are actively working towards it. We're just biding our time until circumstances change, and change comes slowly at community college. That's what I don't like about it here. Honestly, I was excited to skip my senior year and start college, even if it was "only" community college. I wanted to move on, but community college seems like a place where everyone is doing everything BUT moving on. They're stuck in high school, or in their minimum-wage rut, and they like it there. Spare time is spent working their lame mall jobs or spending their pay on cigarettes (did I mention that EVERYONE smokes here?). And they all seem perfectly content to stick with whatever clique they fit into in high school. Isn't that the oposite of what college is supposed to be? Doesn't everyone look forward to going somewhere they can be whoever they want, try something new?

And I think I just found my answer. Everyone wants to GO somewhere, and community college isn't going much of anywhere. It's twenty minutes away from your house, in your parents' car, in the dreary suburbs of your adolesence.

So I'm stuck here, like everybody else, only without a driver's lisence or group of friends leftover from high school, and that's just the way it is. I haven't hung out with anyone particularly interesting, despite my fascination with several individuals who shall remain nameless (you know one of them by his piercing). And, it seems, I don't really care.

Because that's what community college does to you.

Dostoevsky needs to meditate on the word "concise". Like, foreal.

There is whole lot of Russia. Steppe, forest, tundra.... it's pretty vast.

Usually, this is not a problem for me.

Enter Russian Literature course to be completed independantly by the end of November

Now it is a problem. A problem that requires 80 hours of coursework and spans 40 seperate Russian works. And man, can those Russians write.

So like I said: There is a whole lot of Russia.

So, uh, sorry LR of the future (who is my friend and reads my blog). I am a total creeper.

Yes, well. Do you mind if I'm creepy for a bit? No? Good....

Because it's about Lip Ring.




1.He has worn sweater vests on several occasions. One of which was argyle. Also, one time he wore a tweed cap.

2.He doesn't own the textbook for the class, but brings French literature to read instead.




Why are we not friends?!

A conversation we needed to have

Hey blog. What's happening? What's goin' on?

Nothing much.

Really, though, how have you been lately?

Ugh. Things haven't been so swell. It's like I don't exist or something....

What do you mean?

Well, I hardly ever get new posts, and when I do, I feel like only three people ever lay eyes upon them. I just feel totally underappreciated. But whatever.

No! Not whatever! That's a valid feeling, blog, and I'm glad we're talking about it. Truth is, I've always thought you deserved a larger readership.

Really?

Really.

Hmm. I mean, thanks and all, but things are still the same....y'know?

Yeah. I know.

But hey, it was good talking to you...just saying it helps, I think.

I'm glad.

Well, I guess I'll see you in like a day? A month? I never really know with you, Krissy.

I know, blog...I'm working on it....but you will see me. And hey, maybe sooner than you think.

I'll believe it when you post it....

I know you won't do this, but...

Okay, so Dolce and Gabbana's fall ads definately look like stills out of a really pretentious production of Pericles or something. Seriously. Flip through their fall 2007 ads on the D&G site and you'll see what I mean.

Also, I kind of lost interest in the manual labor post, but I'd like to give a shout-out to Kylie for reminding me to write it. Maybe another time. Probably not, though.

In which a brief reflection is promptly dismissed

I just realized that if LR ever facebooks me, and then finds this blog, he will be totally creeped out. Oh well. Perhaps it will be creepy in an endearing, quirky kind of way? That's what you'd think if you were LR, right? Well, no matter.

I don't feel like writing it now, but remind me to write about my recent experiences with manual labor.