Voldemort craves a power ballad

Why do I always cry when Cedric dies? Every goddamn time.

Molly E and I decided to pull the Jessie Stamos night in preparation for our finals. We popped the caffine pills, and as a certain rapper's child would say, "I think my daddy's gone Craaaaaaazy!" We're so excited! We're so excited! We're so.... SCARED! I write an extensive paper on sci fi writers having giant hang ups over their curbed intellectual potential and the military's traditional monopolization and co-opting of intellectual capability as I lj. Wheeeee. Touring with a band this summer's going to be pretty cool. As a roadie, I didn't, like, learn how to sing or anything. I'm hitting the Knitting Factory. Sarah M., do I sense the time of our dark reunion is nigh? You too, Ruth Anne? It's a full East coast tour, if you want to see me, give me the name of a venue that would take A Vague Sound, that being a slightly emo techno sensation which is actually very big in China (don't. ask.), and I'll see if maybe we could Book It (and ger a personal pan pizza of our very own!) or if alternatively we're comming anywhere near there. Chances are, now that I think about it, Corey's not going to have a ton of freedom to bok this leg as he's touring with another East Coast group. Oh well, I'll just let you know what unnatural color my hair is that week. You can find me in a crowd. But considering what kind of places we're playing, I don't know how much help 'bright teal hair' will really be. You'll probably end up trying to discuss you latest reads with a biker man named Killer. Or Cujo.

Also, sweet news!

So prepare for tears. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt in Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged! Really? Really.

And Will and Grace is finally fucking ending. Every time I realize that, it brings me fresh joy.

P.S. Paper'd!

"Co-opted and Artificially Limited Intellectual Development in New Wave Science Fiction
Or “Those Moronic Mainstream Writers Dared Question my Talent and Intelligence!”"


...so I may work on the title later. 8 pages instead of 5. Think he'll care?

Voldemort craves a power ballad

Why do I always cry when Cedric dies? Every goddamn time.

Molly E and I decided to pull the Jessie Stamos night in preparation for our finals. We popped the caffine pills, and as a certain rapper's child would say, "I think my daddy's gone Craaaaaaazy!" We're so excited! We're so excited! We're so.... SCARED! I write an extensive paper on sci fi writers having giant hang ups over their curbed intellectual potential and the military's traditional monopolization and co-opting of intellectual capability as I lj. Wheeeee. Touring with a band this summer's going to be pretty cool. As a roadie, I didn't, like, learn how to sing or anything. I'm hitting the Knitting Factory. Sarah M., do I sense the time of our dark reunion is nigh? You too, Ruth Anne? It's a full East coast tour, if you want to see me, give me the name of a venue that would take A Vague Sound, that being a slightly emo techno sensation which is actually very big in China (don't. ask.), and I'll see if maybe we could Book It (and ger a personal pan pizza of our very own!) or if alternatively we're comming anywhere near there. Chances are, now that I think about it, Corey's not going to have a ton of freedom to bok this leg as he's touring with another East Coast group. Oh well, I'll just let you know what unnatural color my hair is that week. You can find me in a crowd. But considering what kind of places we're playing, I don't know how much help 'bright teal hair' will really be. You'll probably end up trying to discuss you latest reads with a biker man named Killer. Or Cujo.

Also, sweet news!

So prepare for tears. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt in Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged! Really? Really.

And Will and Grace is finally fucking ending. Every time I realize that, it brings me fresh joy.

P.S. Paper'd!

"Co-opted and Artificially Limited Intellectual Development in New Wave Science Fiction
Or “Those Moronic Mainstream Writers Dared Question my Talent and Intelligence!”"


...so I may work on the title later. 8 pages instead of 5. Think he'll care?

She Works Hard for the Money. So Hard for the Money.

My mom, predictably, said if I didn't have a Chicago internship I had to go home. There was much sobbing on her part. I said if I came home she'd never let me leave again. It looks like I have to support myself entirely this summer, this stretching on into a full time job next year and maybe two classes. I'm no longer going to be a full time student, but a member of the work force who takes classes. For real this time, not another unrealistic threat. I have to find a job, learn how to file taxes, and figure out how to graduate. Luckily I'm a junior, so even hindered I may be able to graduate with the rest of my class if I get loans. I have to drop a major to do so, probably. Find a place I can afford next year, so possibly a bench in the ped mall. Ever wonder if it's really all that worth it? I'm not going home to Missouri at least, but am I really escaping my family and all that shit to anything? To any concrete purpose or greater hapiness? Angst. Job applications? Angst.

She Works Hard for the Money. So Hard for the Money.

My mom, predictably, said if I didn't have a Chicago internship I had to go home. There was much sobbing on her part. I said if I came home she'd never let me leave again. It looks like I have to support myself entirely this summer, this stretching on into a full time job next year and maybe two classes. I'm no longer going to be a full time student, but a member of the work force who takes classes. For real this time, not another unrealistic threat. I have to find a job, learn how to file taxes, and figure out how to graduate. Luckily I'm a junior, so even hindered I may be able to graduate with the rest of my class if I get loans. I have to drop a major to do so, probably. Find a place I can afford next year, so possibly a bench in the ped mall. Ever wonder if it's really all that worth it? I'm not going home to Missouri at least, but am I really escaping my family and all that shit to anything? To any concrete purpose or greater hapiness? Angst. Job applications? Angst.