I’m writing an essay on Al Jazeera’s take on climate change’s impact on the ferocity of the hurricanes. (It’s CNN, not AJ that finally brought this up) While writing it I’m very tempted to write things like “I DON’T CARE WHY TORTURE NO” but as easy going as my professor is, I think that putting those thoughts in my essay is a little disrespectful. So here they are!
I HATE THE BOREDOM. THE BOREDOM SUCKS. GOOD TITLE FOR BOOK. MUST FOCUS!
MURDER MURDER PUMPKIN TEA I LOVE YOU BUT I WON’T BUY A BOX WHEN I CAN GET A BAG FOR FREE
I WANT PUMPKIN TEA
WHAT DOES PUERTO RICO EVEN MEAN?
XIOMARA IS A COOL NAME
‘PUERTO RICO’ MEANS ‘RICH PORT’ HAHA THE IRONY!
I CAN’T FIT THAT IN YASS I CAN!
I’m not going to turn this in today, but if I email him and get an extension, it will probably motivate me to procrastinate more, but it saves me from explaining this face-to-face.
WHY DOES THE EFFING PROFESSOR HAVE TWO EMAILS WHICH ONE
PORTAL CREDIT. PORTAL IS CREDITED. PORTAL CRED.
PLEASE DON’T TALK TO ME FACE-TO-FACE ABOUT THIS.
YASSS FREE PASS WALK OVER HIM TAKE ADVANTAGE
I started a new blog for a journalism class! I will be, or should be, covering how humans suffer the consequences of environmental damage in Humboldt County. It is Nature’s Backlash: Earth Will Rage, Men Will Bleed There will be interviews with humans. I will have to talk to humans for a blog. In person.
I do want to be a journalist, and it’ll be nice to be able to ask questions without having to go through social things, but at the same time, HUMANS. They’re not nice.
In book news, I’m still reading LOTR off and on. The only book i’m reading regularly is required reading for my Dramatic Writing class. (I LOVE my Dramatic Writing class)Naked Playwriting is ok. I would read it on my own, but i’d skip chapters tho and three because YADDAYADDYADDAYOUKNOWTHISANDYOUKNOWTHATYYADDAYADDAYADDYADDA. But some of it is interesting, like short histories of theatre genres and some funny analogies. I recommend it if you have an interest in writing and/or theatre.
Yes, I have classes and sleep deprivation, but the real thing that is keeping from writing is my phone. I can feel them competing for me. Aragorn vs MyCafe. I can either own a cafe with limited interaction or be immersed in a world alongside a sexy ranger. Logically, I know the right choice is to be with Aragorn, but that phone is bloody hypnotizing.
When you look at my other blog, please leave comments on how to improve. I am being graded on it! How do you deprive your phone of your eyes? HOW?
I’m hungry. I’m also sick as f*, but let’s stick with hunger for this post.
When I first visited my college, I looked for vegan options in the Depot and found The Rice Bowl, which, obviously, serves rice, but also veggies and tofu. I got the trio, and asked the tour guide if it were easy to be vegan here. She said yes, and there was a good vegan rating from peta2, so I came here.
And lost 7 pounds in 3 weeks, without meaning to. Sometimes the food was good, filling and healthy, but after the first two weeks, the food took a sharp decline. They never serve vegan breakfast except on mondays, when they quickly run out. For the last two days, they’ve had veggies and soup so spicy it chokes.
PLEASE SIGN THIS PETITION SO I CAN BE HEALTHY AGAIN!!!!!!!
FIRMA LA PETICIÓN, POR FAVOR!!!!!!
HSU: Feed Your Vegan Students!
With that outta the way, (you DID sign it, right?)….I sick so I sleep.
I wrote a fancy, proper post in my journal about the seven things I’ve learned during the three weeks I’ve been at college, but for now, I’m disregarding it and ranting. Because college sucks.
I need Sherlock.
I live in a ten person dorm. I have a roommate who doesn’t like me. I have a dormmate who shut me down because I made jokes on snapchat and on the community board. My people back home loved my dark jokes. They loved me. When I wrote “I am death”, not all of them got the reference, but they all loved me for writing it. When I snapchatted “Veganism applies to nonhuman animals, so I can eat humans.”, one of my dormmates threatened to go to the RLC and ask if I could move.
Watson never asked Sherlock to move.
So I walked into the woods at night. I’ve only done that once before, with my roommate after trying out ultimate frisbee. It was an experience, but not one I want to repeat, and I only did it to try to connect to her but only managed to further alienate me because my phone wasn’ working so I needed her light cause tree roots. She was faster than me, so I freaked cause it was dark on a trail we weren’t supposed to be on. She asked if i’ve never gone hiking and wtf I already told you I hike all the effing time just not in the dark on forbidden paths.
So on tonight’s walk, I was seriously depressed. I might never see the man I love cause I suspect he’s an immigrant and the school he teaches at sucks and fuck Donald Trump. A few raindrops landed on my nose. The sky started rumbling, electrons flashed above. I asked Sherlock how he managed without his Watson for two years.
He was driven everyday to destroy people (did he kill anyone?) that threatened the safety of his Watson. He wanted his Watson more than anything, went through torture because it was easier to bear then never going back to 221b Baker st.
Because Frodo. Because Thorin. Because Ed Sheeran’s Photograph.
Home is waiting. If it kept us alive and loving, it’s worth waiting for. It’s worth making proud of.