Week before finals... aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!

So it's that time of year again-- the week before finals, where schools around the globe discover that 17 weeks of steady instruction and assignments are in fact negligible, and that all that could ever known about a subject is squeezed into a one week period. Professors long papers and massive reading assignments, while students desperately try and study everything they should have been learned within the previous 15 weeks is learned. Ah, the joys of the higher educational system.

I really am excited though. The week before finals means that it's just a few short days away from summer vacation! Woot! And I really think I can survive this one too-- it'll be my first time taking classes over the summer, but since one's 3 weeks and the other's online, I really do think that I have a chance of NOT going crazy this summer.

And mystory's done! Yahoo! Well, time for bed.

It's dark and we're wearing sunglasses...

So I was out on the balcony again. I'm not used to the whole "apartment thing," so I was feeling couped up and needing space. And today was PERFECT. So it was windy, yadda yadda yadda. I went out there and called Allison (the best friend) and talked for almost an hour. Then I read Mansfield Park (woot for J.A.) for a couple more hours. Did the elliptical for the usual 20 min/day, while watching High Fidelity. Ate dinner. Watched mom do Tracy's hair. Said bye to mom. Went back out on balcony in the middle of the night. It was PERFECT.

The moon was perfect, the breeze was perfect... granted the view is of other apartment buildings... but aside from that it was the most content I've felt in ages. AGES, mind you.

I know it's not quite the same as running (or the elliptical, which is better than running, or TENNIS, which is the absolute greatest sport of all-time... ok, that MAY be debatable with baseball, but only if the Sox are playing) but regardless, I was actually OUTSIDE... WITH A BOOK... ALONE. I can't remember the last time that's happened. It was really nice.

I guess that's all I can really think of to say today. Just overall very content with life right now. Happy may be too strong of a word-- happy would be me outside on a balcony in OXFORD-- but content is good for now. And that's all I'm asking for right now.

So good night for now.

Oh no oh no oh no

Where to start, where to start.

Been kind of busy around here, getting ready to put the house on the market again. The prospect of moving has always been exciting to me, but the whole process is perhaps one of the most complicated systems I have ever been involved in. Packing and sorting and then un-packing and re-sorting and cleaning and cleaning and cleaning like crazy. It's very hard to get used to when you live in as cluttered and as unorganized as an environment as my bedroom. Now I have to decide what's more important to me-- old essays on the Gin Act, or my preschool finger paintings?-- unread books, or unused CD's?-- blank notebooks (in case I need them) or fully-used notebooks with notes from other classes (in case I need them)? It's all far too confusing for my simple mind.

On a less-complicated note, I am going to the Sox game on Monday; and quite honestly, what could possibly be less-complicated than watching baseball while surrounded by thousands of beer-crazed and highly volatile south-siders? I can't think of a thing.

Let's see, I guess I should mention something about the week in general. In retrospect, it ended far better than I thought it would. The out-pouring of tasks and assignments that started on Tuesday seemed to either fizzle out or lose momentum by Thursday. Things that seemed like mountainous tasks now strike me as being no more worry-worthy than an anthill. Which may or may not be a good thing; "may" in the sense that I am not currently feeling stressed out, "may not" in the sense that this sense of calm may be quickly dissipated by a torrential downpour of reality that will hit Monday night. But I don't intend on leaving everything until the night before! In fact, I think this Sox game will be very good in that it will motivate me to get everything done ahead of time. Which means that Monday night I'll be lying in bed, unable to fall asleep for fear that I have forgotten to do some major, life-altering assignment which has escaped my assignment calendar AND my memory.

I'm very excited at the prospect of writing my research paper for the learning community conference. Call me a masochist if you want, but analytical thought-processes and 9-page dissertations on Jane Austen and Virginia Woolf excite me to no end. Which is funny, (not just b/c, to someone other than myself, the whole idea seems completely diabolical) b/c lately I've been wondering whether or not I should pursue an English major. It's not that I've lost interest in the subject-- goodness knows I still get giddy at the thought of flipping through my post-it marked pages of Mrs. Dalloway tomorrow morning-- but it's that I think some of my other interests that I've been ignoring are starting to catch up with me. I guess what I'm really referring to is singing.

Gosh, it seems like forever since I last sang. Ok, well not really forever-- I was just singing boisterously in the car for a full 1/2 hr, after which proceeding to plug in my iPod and start singing again. But I mean REALLY sing-- pouring it all for an audience to either take in or leave behind. I can't get over how much vocal performance was a part of my life, and then suddenly and entirely dropped out of view. It's like the entire time I was professing my love for English literature and the idea of studying abroad, I completely forgot about that other part of who I am that revolves solely around music. This may seem kind of random, but I suppose it makes sense-- probably about a week ago my dad took out and played his guitar for the first time in about six months, and singing with him and my family just made me remember so much, and wonder if it's not too late before everything gets forgotten in a flurry of Keats and Dickens and Austen or whatever else. I just got my petition for graduation today from my adviser. I still have the summer and fall semesters ahead of me, but I'm scared half to death that I'm going to move forward and leave this all behind. If I give up singing for English, am I going to lose a part of me?

Well, that seems like far too complicated of a question to answer in one sitting. I suppose I'll have to mull over my decisions when it actually comes time to making them. For now, I just need to feel my pillow against my head. Good night.

Top O'The Mornin' To Ya-- And Also With You (Notebook blog, March 17, 2008)

Yay for St. Patrick's day! And yay for Palm Sunday! (which was yesterday, but that's beside the point). One more week, and I can facebook and google and wikipedia and e-mail to my heart's content. But I really hope I don't.

It's usually a hit-or-miss with Lent. Sometimes I'll give something up, only to never touch it again (take coffee for example... ick.) But then there are those times (and I'm afraid that this shall be one of them) when all-hell breaks loose on Easter (sweet, now my awful puns are bringing elements of irony upon themselves :) and I absolutely binge without ever looking back. I HATE when I do that.

Maybe I just shouldn't think about it-- maybe all of this time I let the idea of failure and regression occupy my thoughts, I'm becoming more and more prone to fulfilling my very own self-fulfilling prophecy, and that I'm going to cut-loose and be an unstoppable internet fiend by the time Lent is through. Better the internet than chips and candy, I guess. I'm honestly not missing those too much. Except chocolate, but of course that goes without saying.

Woops, I didn't realize how late it's getting. Family dinner on St. Patty's day, woot! Too bad I'm not Irish. But the cousins are, so maybe they'll spread some Irish cheer-- and hopefully some Irish beer, haha. KIDDING, there will be no drinking. Speaking of ridiculous (ok, not a very smooth transition, just work with me here), I really need to re-vamp this iPod-- a 1/2 hr drive to Oak Forest can't possibly be pleasant until I get some Beatles on here. I'll do that now. Is that excessive internet? No, wait, I don't use iTunes, therefore no internet involved. Sweet, loophole!

Gaaaaahhhh!!! (Notebook blog, March 10, 2008)

For the sake of clarity, I'll say it again-- GAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

Ok, feeling slightly better. Although my writing hand's a little sore. There's just so much to do, so little time! Cleaning and homework and essays and quizzes and family dinners and CLEANING! Spring break was supposed to be more relaxing than this! I still have not come to terms with the idea that I too can stop procrastinating. It just doesn't seem possible anymore!

So the prospects of a summer job are looking good. Apparently I have some connections from my youth group in the park district that will really help out. And I'd MUCH rather teach kids at day camp than work retail *shudder*. Folding clothes and ringing a register-- never again!

So I'm kind of happy that spring break is early, since the best friend and I get to hang out and all that good stuff. But Gina's (younger sister-- and yes, it IS a very Italian name) break is closer to Easter so I'm not really feeling the "break" part yet. Like where we both stay up late doing something or other that we would normally do on a school night anyway but now can't get yelled at for because It's Spring Break Mom! Of COURSE We Can Stay Up Late!

Aside from that, things are going pretty well so far. I mean, I AM feeling swamped, but not drained, if that makes any sense (hey, could this be a borderline, pun-like reference to a swamp pun? Can I use a rim shot here? I think I shall :) *rim shot*. I'll have to work on getting up early again for school, but staying up until 3 in the morning and sleeping till noon is fine by me until then. Now the only question is what I should do right now. I don't have to drive out for Monday Night Family Dinner for another couple of hours-- what to do, what to do? Although this "post" has killed a lot of time. As much as I like the idea of blogging, I think I'm going to miss this notebook when Lent is over. Maybe it's not the blogging I like-- it's the journaling. Opening up. Pouring my heart out. Actually, pouring my heart gets too emotional. I much prefer mindless dribble with no real point or purpose other than to waste time and occupy space. Like right now, haha. Surprisingly, I am feeling fulfilled as I write this. Maybe this isn't such a bad way to use my time. My writing may never improve, but my demeanor is! Yay for blogging!

Adapting to Adaptation (Notebook blog entry, March 7, 2008)

Spring break has officially begun! Woot!! :)

Which means spring cleaning. Ugh. I don't understand why I can't stay organized. C'est la vie, I suppose. It's just that getting ready to put the house on the market again is hard work. Plus, why would I want to put Mansfield Park down so I can pack up my room? I'd choose Austen over cleanliness any day. Haha, I just reread that.

I liked "Adaptation." It was definitely worth seeing, and I think I could honestly bring it to weekly movie-nights w/the family/friends group and not get scolded (which has happened maybe once or twice). It was surprisingly funny. And the end-- oh my goodness, the end!-- nothing says ironic like ending your screenplay with the very things you protested against at the beginning of the movie. Even Nicholas Cage has endeared himself to me somewhat. I say SOMEWHAT very particularly... I still haven't recovered from that awful movie with the motorcycle and the flaming skeleton and Eva Mendez... good lord, Eva Mendez! What WAS the director/writer thinking?!? Guess "We Own the Night" hadn't come out before then, so they didn't know any better.

So, back to the subject of good movies. I think one of the reasons I like Adaptation so much was that it was poignent, in that it stressed the difficulties of coming up with "the story". I felt like Charlie when I was writing my Sister Bay (literary anecdote) story-- I wanted to wow and impress, but in the end I felt mediocre and unfulfilled. Which is not to say I didn't like what I came up with-- I think to a fifth grader it was perfectly funny and engaging. But I want to get to my level. The level I know I can achieve in my writing, just haven't gotten to yet. I feel like it's bubbling under the surface, but hasn't erupted to make sense of the chaotic universe that is my writing style. Practice makes perfect, I suppose. Unless you're Charlie Kaufman-- in which case, a toothless flower junkie, a drugged up author, a twin brother and a morphed sense of self make perfect. Oh, and a voiceover-- can't forget that :0)

"I'm a walkin', yes indeed, I'm a walkin..."-- Random song that is now stuck in my head (Notebook blog entry, February 19, 2008)

Different people, different walks. I thought that was what the point of the "Walking" film was going to be. But then I watched it. And then I came home and watched it again. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was something about this film that made me think

I think that there is little doubt in my mind that this film works as art. It decontextualizes almost absolutely-- figures in dark, water-color shadows, some of which are merely lumped masses on legs, with only the silhouette of the whole person being entirely distinguishable. Flashing colors and flowing lines distinguish the moving figures from the stationary-- the calm from the vibrant. Even when faces and frames are distinguishable, they are not nearly as expressive as the figures' swaying limbs as the walk, run, and cartwheel in and out of view.

I also think that this film accomplishes the defamiliarization of walking in general. In real life, I would think that when approached by a walking person that an individual's eye would tend to gravitate toward the face and torso of the person. In the movie, however, the lines and shadows operated as such as to draw the line of sight (literally) toward the legs and feet which, while significant in the act of walking, are generally overlooked. That would probably be what I liked most about the film-- the focus defamiliarized figures and people by changing the perspective.

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this film as a whole. I do believe that live-action and animated films are an art form, but whether or not I'd consider this piece as entirely significant (like, say, significant enough to write 3 to 5 pages on, for example) is still up in the air. I think if it had gone a little farther to decontextualize the elements of walking from the human frame as a whole, I may have been more moved. But still, this film keeps me thinking. Which I think furthers the argument for calling it art.