I feel lost.

Late Night and Poetry

I have too much to do this week. Officially, too much. I have like 4 different assignments due on Friday, and they're all for the same class. At least my other classes have let up on me this week (mostly because I skipped one to take a sick day this morning, and another one is cancelled tomorrow, and we're watching a movie in the other one tomorrow).

So for the first time since about 4th grade, I sit here writing a book report. I am supposed to write about style and craft, not themes. I'm not sure how to write about anything without writing about themes, because style means that a writer is doing something, which translates automatically to there being themes. I wouldn't worry about it, except that these reports are 20% of my grade, and I've already missed a couple homework assignments. Oops, I'm a slacker.

I want to go to sleep more than anything, but I want to get a couple pages written first... I don't see that happening.

Oh, and I'll be back in St. Paul in a week. Woo!

A Rut?

I had the unsettling realization tonight that my life has fallen into a routine. I don't usually do that. I've always had tendencies to do certain things at certain times, but it's not normally planned out on a weekly basis. Obviously rehearsals happen at the same time every week: Mondays for femprov, Thursdays for B2KC, Sundays for B2KC and Founders. And conversational English tutoring is Monday afternoons, every week. And my social life goes the same way! Tuesdays: falafel and coffee with Sherri. Wednesdays: Titanic lunch at the Rathskeller, usually including a game of Abdel. Thursdays: watching The Office after rehearsal. The weekends are more amorphous. I'm surprised that I like the routine. It's comforting. Weeks are more bearable when fun things are scheduled in, right? But no wonder I'm starting to feel...boring. Not bored. Just boring.

Yes We Can

There is nothing quite like crawling into bed after an extremely long, exhausting day only to instantly get a phone call saying "There are hundreds of people out on the capital square! Get over here now!" with screams of "Obama! Woooo!" in the background. There was a screaming, cheering procession all the way from the capital square down State Street, completely spontaneously. It was one of the most joyful things I've ever experienced. This is an exciting time to be alive.

Being Broken

This year is Life Boot Camp for me, I think. All of my negative and inactive habits and tendencies will be beaten out of me, and I will be a responsive, active performer and person. All my classes are boot camp. My personal life is boot camp too. The only thing that truly upsets me about all of this is that there's no room in it for cynicism. And I like my cynicism. But, these things happen.

On a side note, what on earth is the logic behind taking a nap, setting an alarm clock, and then pressing the snooze button for 3 hours? That's not sleep! Not that I'd know anything about sleep lately...

I've been found!

Life is cool. Generally.

I finally had an inaugural party at my place tonight, after living here for two months. Nothing big, just a board game night with the improvisers. I kind of miss last year when everyone hung out in our room all the time, it was nice filling up the living room for once. And as dorky as it sounds, board game night never fails. Easy to plan, energetic, really chill. Loaded Questions is a really awesome game.

This is a busy time of year. Even for the twelve-credit-wonder with no exams, job, or show to work on. Auditions every night this week, halloween approaching (and no idea whatsoever of a costume). And even though I have no exams, I do have monologues and projects that are kicking my ass. I need to write a short story within the next couple weeks. I know I will put it off til the very last Thursday night. I just know it.

Secrets

I was reading Tasha's blog today and started thinking "Hmm, maybe I should make a blog. I like having random thoughts and writing them down." But I don't think I'm going to tell anyone about my blog. That will make it all the more fun if anybody finds it. I take this attitude toward a lot of things.

It would be nice if the people who are fixing things in my apartment would a) leave and b) not make the entire place smell like cigarette smoke. I can smell it from the bedroom.

I think it's time for me to spend some time in Minnesota. Or at the very least, to take myself on a date to an art museum and check out a new coffee shop. Enough of this football and beer bullshit.