Sunday, February 24, 2013

Quotes for You

I have been negligent on quotes this year. My apologies, friends. Here are some quotes. For you.  Because I love you.

"Uneducated, uncivilized, uncultured swine! I'm sure they're nice people, though."

"This character is the scariest guy I've ever met."

"If this soy milk were a man he would cook and speak Italian."

"He doesn't wake up. Because he has no head."

"You stole a pumpkin for me! That is true friendship."

"I'm very attached to my decapitated people."

"Get your vulnerability off of me!"

"Say no to cannibalism!"

"Listen to my explanation as a poke your butt."

"Men don't have feelings, you know?"

"Ouch! Right in the feelings!"

"He doesn't wake up. Because he has no head."

"Today! I bought a head!"

"We'll have sexy face practice."

"I'm not sure it's ethical, but I have to do it.  It's like testing rats."

"I want to be a concubine!"

"I accidentally murdered Kaia in the hallway. Twice."

"It's like a double wedding, but of the funeral variety."

"My bones were being fat!"

"I don't like you."
"I don't like you eiher."
"I didn't like you first!"
"You sing good!"

"I think I picked the wrong concubine..."

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Happy Valentines. I Wrote You a Poem.

I had to write a Spencerian sonnet last night. I don't know how much you know about sonnets, much less Spencerian ones, but let this suffice: They're really, really, really hard to write. They're supposed to use iambic pentameter (and hexameter) and rhyme all over the place.

I can't rhyme. Can't. So, like the sport I am, I whined about it for a few hours. Then I sat my roommate down and informed her we were writing a poem.

This is what we came up with:

I once fell down the stairs and hit my head
            And then my dog became a giant rat.
            My heart grew cold in one moment of dread
            Behind, I heard my cat yell out “Oh drat!”
And from my bag I pulled a wooden bat,
            With which I knew I could defend my Sam
            (And Sam, of course, he was my noble cat).
            I stood and faced the beast and shouted, “Scram!”
The rat, he swelled, he grew big as a tram.
As I thought of my ancestors of lore,
 I knew this was a test, or an exam,
            A quest to test the greatness of my core.
And as I stood and thought I knew that I was doomed,
            So quickly I ditched Sam, and off away I zoomed.

We wrote it at eleven last night, at which point the entire thing was hysterical.

I felt even better about when I wrote my short analysis that ended thusly:

The theme of the poem is the discovery of one's flaws, in this case, cowardice. Even in his dream, the narrator is unable to face his fears or defend the things he cares about. 

Here's hoping my professor has a sense of humor. And no particular commitment to poetic aesthetic.

Happy Valentines.


Saturday, February 2, 2013

A Few of My Favorite Things. Again. I Have Lots.

There's this one building on campus where people are always talking about the newest fantasy story they're writing. Or about whether or not '?!' is acceptable (general consensus--no, but we're probably going to use it anyway). They're talking about BBC TV shows. And The Last Airbender. And foreign films.

They're such nerds, guys. Really. Nerds. And the first time I really stopped and listened to them I thought, I've found my people!

Anyway, upstairs in this building there is a board where they ask questions and leave sticky notes, and you get to answer them. This week it was What Is Your New Years Resolution?

These were my favorites:

       Be less creepy.
               Get into Hogwarts.
          Floss everyday.
                       Live like an art project. 
   Be even more awesome (will be hard).
                 Find a cure for the zombie apocalypse. YOU OWE ME!
Steal a snowman.
                Crash a wedding.
       Overcome my depression. (Accompanied by scribbled, encouraging notes.)
Stop the apocalypse (get the salt!!!)
             Don't kill ANY moths.

Don't you kind of love people?

In case that didn't do it for you, try this. (He's a local photographer, and I love him. He makes them look interesting.)
Ah! And this. (It's a New Yorker story. And it makes me laugh, really hard. There is swearing, as a heads up.)

And this. (I'm totally not crying.)

Hey, guys, how do you think you steal a snowman?