The Holidays Are Here Again

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!!! I hope everyone stuffed themselves silly and then had a nice nap. I did. :)


The Only Story to Get An 'A'

I feel:: amused

Remember the book "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus"? Here's a prime example offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix:
"Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and end another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent.
There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."
The following was actually turned in by two of my English students:

Rebecca (last name deleted), and Gary (last name deleted).

(first paragraph by Rebeccca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,???*?? he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance
so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth
stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around
her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human
race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they
swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret Mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of
Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid, Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm
going to veto that tr eaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of FUCKING
TEA??? Oh no, I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels."
Go drink some tea - whore.
A+ - I really liked this one. Only group to get an A.


What Erik Wrote To Me. Comments Anyone?

You know who you are...

I know you're here and maybe once in a while you come check and see what's new with me.

Or maybe you don't. I don't know because we don't talk anymore.

Do you know what it's like to really love anyone anymore? I don't think you do. I think you've forgotten what it's like to be able to just melt into someone and leave the hangups outside the door with the world.

I know I'm an ass. I know I can be selfish and opinionated and narrow of vision. I'm sorry.

You, on the other hand, can be judgemental, insecure to a severe degree, self-righteous, clingy, and whiny at times.

I still love you regardless. So, why did I break up with you?

Because you can't trust me. You said it yourself. I was a bad boyfriend in the past. Not because I was driven to do something big like now, but because I was screwed up over "A" and hated myself. I loathed myself in the capacity that no bucket the size of Jupiter could contain. I was terrible to you. I was a wall of self-destruction, taking all who crossed my path with me.

It took a long time and a couple conversations with "A" to deal with it. I'm over it and life is good. Except that you and I are not together anymore. My choice, I know. It amazes me even now that you ever agreed to let me back in your life beyond an acquaintance. For all the shit that I did, you opened yourself up to me.

Now, it seems the shoe's on the other foot.

I can't measure up to what you want, while you measure up so easily. You're intelligent, beautiful of thought and body, sweet, possessing a lovely singing voice, and fucking infuriating, particularly when you're right!

Me? I'll never be as attentive as you'd like. I've got too much I want to accomplish to drop everything when you have a panic attack. I dealt with the abstinence because you wanted it or needed it due to your spiritual beliefs. I agreed because you asked me to. I agreed because I loved you.

But you stopped being loving. A simple kiss on the cheek would've been enough to let me know. I was always the instigator and my affections were returned with all the passion of dead goldfish. It's like you get conflicted when I get amorous, as if God himself would kick down the door and condemn you to hell for having any feelings for me beyond brotherly love. "Sex is evil and a sin and when you get aroused you are going to hell" and all that religious bullshit.

I tried. I tried and in the end I lost it. I couldn't deal with it. When I left that message, I knew I screwed up. Better to talk in person, but I was so pissed off that I had to let it out. I had to let it go and clear my head so I could even drive home.

It seems like what you want is some nice Christian guy who only lives to be with you with his life on hold when you call. A gross exaggeration, to be sure, but am I too far off the mark? I have my belief, but I also have goals and plans. I wish you could be there when I do all of it, but you won't because you're sick of me. You're sick of my shit, as you so eloquently put it.

If I was so bad and awful, then why did you say nothing? I'm not gonna buy that whole passive-aggressive thing. That's bullshit to cover up what's really going on. What is that? I don't know, but the P-A excuse is used up on me.

I know I sound like I'm assigning blame all on you, but I'm really not. It's like the song says "There ain't no good guys, there ain't no bad guys. It's just you and me and we just disagree."

I haven't called to talk to you because as far as I know, you'd rather not hear from me and I don't wanna pester you. Plus, I'm sure that Lanie and Tonya would rather put a bullet through my head and you've already met someone else who's more attentive than I.

Still, I love you.



I'm Still Alive

I feel:: depressed

I don't want to make this a long depressing post, so I'll be brief. I'm trying to make it through school this semester. I don't know if I'm going to pass my Algebra class. If I don't, I won't get any loan money for next semester.
Erik and I haven't been together for quite sometime. He broke up with me on my cell phone voicemail. He said if I had any comments that I knew how to contact him. I haven't spoken to him since.
I haven't really been talking to many people lately. I've just been keeping to myself. I guess I'm depressed. I've been thinking about things like God and some things that people used to have me convinced of. Also about my current mental state. I don't mean to be cryptic. I don't know how else to put it. Someone asked me the other day what I thought my purpose in life was. I thought about it and I said that I used to know. I used to be quite sure about a lot of things, but not now. I'm not sure of anything anymore.