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Things I'm Gonna Do

I have these goals that have been solidifying in my head; things that I want to do over the summer to make myself a better person. I will list them here, and perhaps add more so that I don't forget.

1. Learn to cook
I can already cook sort of, but I want to learn to REALLY cook. Like, things from scratch. Meals. Fancy things, with important-sounding ingredients.

2. Learn to sew
More than just a button. I want to learn how to use the damn sewing machine. I want to go the fabric store, buy a few yards of fabric, and make myself a shirt. Thank you, project runway, for making me feel inadequate.

3. Learn about opera
I'm not entirely sure why, but today I had this really weird and sudden desire to know about opera. I want to be like, "Oh, yeah, _____ was pretty good as _____ in ______, but ______ was far superior when she was _______ in _______," and replace all the _______s with things like "Puccini" and "La Boheme."

More as they come up.
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(no subject)

Dear internet babies,

If you happen to find yourselves staring at a computer at 1:00 pm EST tomorrow, it would be totally nifty if you went here and made a comment or two (intelligent, not so intelligent, whatever) about "Can It Be Beautiful? Should We Care? A Cybernetic Discussion of the New Technology", or "how the internet is awesome."

You can call me on the cell, too, if you want to say something out loud. I will even give you the number if you don't have it, provided you promise not to cellphone stalk me in the future. :DD
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The Way that Snow Clarifies Sound

Death clarifies shunyata.
That chair is empty that was yesterday filled, and nearby there is a wide-open door screaming because it doesn't want the onlookers to know. Everyone cries because they can't face their own hollowness, reflected in the hollowness of the carved-block-world. Man must transcend his own perception to realize, with nothing in between, the fallacies of duality and the emptiness that is the reality behind reality; but after that? A clever man will transcend beyond even shunyata and come to reside once again within the confines of the subjective: this is the mobius strip of illumination: the infinite evasion of the divine. After all, five transmigratory skandhas are as good as any immortal soul, and the masses weep because they can hardly stand to see the truth in any sharper relief than it already is.

You know?
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(no subject)


I was so happy in this stupid apartment. This stupid apartment was like home, moreso than Douglass ever was. I was comfortable here. It's selfish as fuck to be as upset over this as I am, but ... dammit. Why are they making us leave? I know why, but it's ridiculous. I don't care. I don't want to live with some stranger in Babcock. God. I was so happy. I was so fucking happy. I wasn't going to go drink this weekend. I was going to give myself a break. But now I have to go get drunk off of my sobbing little ass somewhere because otherwise I'm not going to be able to deal with it.
Why does housing hate me? I've been so fucked over by these people. I thought they'd fixed it. I was happy.
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Update on Life

Hello, world. I have two jobs and no hours to show for either of them. Jamie at the Center, despite my large amount of seniority and the whole 'friend of the family' thing has seemingly decided that it is not important for me to actually work there (at least until the new show opens in ... July) although I am on the payroll and still technically working there. Knowing this would happen, I secured a job at the Munster Pool concession stand (food service, EW, but still a job). I can walk there, and it will be easy! I thought. But as it turns out, the manager there is an idiot and an asshole, and hired about forty kids to do what would be better for probably about twenty-five. The result: I am working three hours on Friday. Period. Three fucking hours in four days. So I called Missy today, to tell her I wasn't working on Sunday and can thus go with her to Sarah Anne's graduation party ... asked her if Oberweiss is hiring, will fill out an application there, but it'll probably not come to anything. Last resort: have Stacey get me a job at Showplace. I really don't want to work there though. The people are, for the most part, trash. :( Last last resort: figure out a way to get to the Waterpark, as Dad could get me a job no problem, but transportation is a problem.

So, here is obligatory Give me Money button, lol. You know, in case some mind-bogglingly rich stranger stumbles upon this journal by accident and feels bad for me. :D

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Narnia. :D

Well, I'm a -teensy- bit worried about the fact that the Narnia people seem to want to spend a lot of time and effort on their big battle scene. True, there is a battle. I don't mind a battle. The battle is important. But I wish they wouldn't make it the focal point of the entire movie -- battle scenes have gotten so blah lately, and there's so much more to the book. Battle scenes aside, I'm ridiculously looking forward to this movie. The website's gorgeous, the teaser trailer's gorgeous. Tilda Swinton's gorgeous. Aslan looks ... maybe a little fake. But it was a teaser trailer, so hopefully I'm wrong and he's completely believable. I loved those books as a kid, though I haven't read them in a while. I'm afraid being able to understand the religious implications would make them not as entertaining. Still, I'll read at least the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe again before the movie comes out. Oh, Narnia ...