Holy Crack-Monkeys

Yeah, so it was totally like 80 degrees yesterday. And now it's like 25. I'm not sure what happened. Why, Texas? Why?

-Bell
"We learned about that in Psychology - how learning new things pushes out your memories of old things. But exactly what it's called has been pushed out of my memory but what I've learned since then."

*gurgle*

You know what I love? Tiny oranges. We have this whole bag of clementines in the fridge and they're making my life exponentially better.

You know what else I love? Michele's music. She's currently playing a song that goes "*techno techno techno* Shut the FUCK up and DANCE. *techno techno techno* If you haven't DANCED yet, what the FUCK did you come for? *techno techno techno*" I don't really understand, but it makes me all kinds of happy.

It's also really dark in the room right now. We have all the lights off except for our computer screens and this one lamp. I like it. Someday when I'm a fifty-cent hooker, I'm gonna have me a dark little lair full of pretty fabrics and scented candles where I shall make love. And eat tiny oranges. And listen to bipolar techno with a scary black man that yells at me for not dancing. And life shall be gooooood...

-Bell
"Dude! He just shoved that guy into a jet engine! Holy crap!"

Why am I pissing blood?

So I've determined that my health insurance policy exists for the sole purpose of creating some feeble sense of security that lasts only until the first instance of my actually needing medical attention. Upon which I realize that my health insurance policy amounts to nothing more than a flimsy card that I keep in my wallet until all the type rubs off.

I love paying thousands of dollars for the express privilege of being tossed around in a bureaucratic nightmare of useless phone calls and red tape.

God bless America...

--Bell
"PIE! I want PIE!"

I'm posting...

...because I can. I'll be leaving for Houston as soon as my laundry is finished and I've showered and packed. But until then I'm just blogging away.

As much as I love my classes, I'm about ready for them to be over. I guess it's just the end-of-semester stress that's getting to me, but it really seems like everything is going wrong all at once. Some examples:

--So that video project I was working on? It was due Wednesday, and by that point we'd worked on it for a good 40 hours in the course of two weeks. We met early in the afternoon to put music in this one spot and then it was done, but we had to come back later to burn it because burning takes about 20-30 minutes and we had to go to classes. But when we came back an hour later to burn it, we opened the file to find that for some reason still unbeknownst to us, everything was scrambled. All the audio and video clips and transitions were in the wrong places and all on top of each other and we were like, "Seriously? Oh my god. This is due in an hour." After scouring tempstorage for a bit, we were able to find a seperate copy with no music that we'd saved a couple days earlier. We burned that and turned it in... thirty minutes late. So we might be getting a zero for this project. I sincerely hope not. Because we worked our asses off, damnit.

--Part of our grade in Psychology is to participate in experiments on campus for a certain number of hours per semester. I need two more hours before December 1, and they have a bunch of possible experiments posted, but there's one problem - you have to be either black or male or both for all of them. I am neither. Somebody please accept me for some poking and prodding so I can get my grade...

--We have to write weekly papers for our media class, and this week's assignment is the crowning glory of unrivaled stupidity: "Analyze how the different forms of media play a role in your family's Thanksgiving celebrations." WTF? That has nothing to do with what we're talking about. And I swear they've used that same prompt (minus the last four words, substitute whatever happens to be going on at the current time) at least twice now. I can see why this is a weed-out course. But they're not weeding ME out, damnit. I hang around like a bad smell.

There's a guy on my floor named Dong. *teeheehee* Dong.

Okay, I'm finished. I WANT A SHOWER. So I'm gonna go do that. You kids have just loads of fun and eats ungodly amounts of pie and all that jazz. Later!

--Bell
"Oh. Look. A little... FAIRY boy..."

*pops out of figurative vagina*

That's right, hookers. I'm BACK. Why am I back? Because Megs has requested it. So you can toss any thanks and/or rotten tomatoes in her direction.*

Yeah, so. Here I am. In college. At the fabulous University of Texas at Austin. Studying to become a crazy independent filmmaker.** I thought the title of this blog was particularly appropriate because it conveyed a sense of innocence corrupted. Which is kind of stereotypically where I'm at right now in this pivotal first semester of college.*** And here you can read ALL about it.

As for what's going on right now, I'm in the throes of final editing of my first group video project. Jon and Michele and I are dying of influenza. I just took three exams and I have two papers due in the next 48 hours. And I am having THE TIME OF MY LIFE. Because I am no longer rotting in Lake Jackson, languishing at Brazoswood High School, clawing my eyes out in the feeble hope that such action would override the unbearable pain of waiting for SOMETHING to happen. Because now I'm in Austin and stuff happens on a daily basis. And it's awesome, yo. So please don't hold it against me if I NEVER GO BACK.

In other news, I'm all full of holiday spirit. I bought Christmas ornaments to hang in the dorm. And I got these little candy things that are like a really thin peppermint stick dipped in dark chocolate and I CAN'T STOP EATING THEM. And I have this mad crazy urge to bake gingerbread cookies and decorate a tree. It's pretty awesome. I haven't been this psyched about Christmas since I was like seven. True story.

Well, I should probably start writing those papers. You kids have loads of fun, and if any of you are back in Texas over the holidays you should definitely call me. We'll get hot chocolate and croissants and chat like old ladies.

-Bell
"YOUR MOTHER'S IN HERE!"


* If anyone actually throws rotten vegetables at Megs, there's gonna be hell to pay. Let it be known.

** crazy independent filmmaker = dirty hobo starving in a ditch

*** For the purpose of creating some nice storybook image of girl meets world, we're gonna go ahead and pretend I had a least a little bit of innocence left prior to arrival at college. Just pretend. It feels good.