Day 223
This morning I woke up and decided to get out of my funk. It took 6 cups of coffee, one Diet Coke and a whole lot of typo-fixing and writing about how much adults suck. Then it hit me: I am an adult, and I settled right back into the funk. Not! I went to pay rent, as this is what adults do, they pay rent late. Anyway, I went in there and talked to some lady in the office when I was waiting, and wouldn't you know it, I got another job. Yeah, apparently I am what people call, "employable" lately. I didn't even have to write a cover letter. And, I ever so love writing cover letters. But this time I walked in and said, "I hear you are looking for someone to set-up chairs and what not." And, Bam! Maybe at some point, I will be able to get a job by just waking up in the morning and not leaving my bed. But, then I would never be able to take the job of course because I would be to busy getting jobs and not leaving my bed. Hmm, I wonder if I could still write cover letters.
I went to a "Thesis Seminar" meeting today. It was a room packed full of writers with a tiny Asian man up front hooking up a projector to a laptop so old that I was surprised it had a projector hook-up. Anyway, this lady came in and started to give a presentation showing us a website. Until today I never in my life had the thought, "Gee, I wish this was a PowerPoint presentation." Seeing crappy slides would've been more entertaining than looking at a boring website. I spent most of the meeting wondering if I was as fat as the lady who showed us the website, wondering what her husband (she was wearing a ring) was like, how long they'd been together, where she got her haircut, if she had asked for the 1970s special, whose lips did hers remind me of, how much is she getting paid, etc. At the end of her website showing all I learned from the meeting was that my thesis needs to have a formatted cover sheet and a table of contents. Oh, and all of the second year students obviously don't know what the hell they are doing if they had like 12 questions about these two things. Then, I felt very smart. I wonder what the lady would've said had I spiced up the Q & A with a, "Is my stomach as big as yours?"
I often get a lot of shit about how me and my favorite instructor banter during class. He looks like one of Santa's helpers but wears a black leather vest. He has written like 20 books and according to someones great aunt or someone, he was quite a hottie back in the day. He teaches a Creative Non-Fiction class and his class is my favorite. Today I even offered to go paint his fence at his house if he taught me more about memoir over the summer, apparently this was a creepy offer and was turned down.
Today in class I was kvetching to my seatmates during the break that halfway through the second story workshop of each class period I always get really sleepy. My bodyguard (who I guess I am talking to now) said, "Drink more coffee." I replied, "I already drink 10 cups a day." Then my favorite teacher chimed in with, "You know what you need? You need caffeine pills. I take them all the time." A few minutes later he talked about how he was just given some sort of prescription pill that new doctors get when they have to do 36 hour training shifts. He said tons of writers take it. And, if that wasn't enough, he related a story about how he used to pop Benzedrine in his youth and write for like 12 hours straight, telling me that it gave you the jitters and if you weren't careful you'd realize that you were gripping your pen so tightly that your fingers were bleeding. There is so much to learn in school these days.
What does it say about you if you watch Jackie Collins interview on Chelsea Lately even though you have never read any of her 27 books? If that's not bad enough, what can be said about someone who then reads all about Jackie Collins's life on wikipedia and imagines what her husbands must've been like. Is it really going to do any good to know that she lives in Beverly Hills in a house that she designed? Shit, at least I'm over being boring by just looking up horoscopes online, everybody does that. At least my hobby is reading about 72 year old bestselling authors whose books I will possibly/probably never read. Yeah, I know how old she is. I am going to chose to be proud of this instead of ashamed.
You are never too old to drink out of a sippy cup, especially if your desk is like your human version of a nest. Believe me when you spill that drink of yours all over your papers and try to clean it up you will at first be devastated to think that you may have just ruined a whole bunch of amazing stories and scripts. But the devastation that really hits is when you realize that the scripts and stories that you spilt all over aren't really worth saving. Shit, now I have to start living up to my potential so that when I spill it's a travesty.
Tip of the Day: When someone makes sure to point out that "No question is a stupid question" this usually means that the person making this proclamation has asked tons of stupid questions themselves. Don't try to imagine what they were, it'll take to long and you'll just get frustrated never being able to figure out what their stupid questions were just by looking at them.
-Canadian Castaway
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