I have a lot on my mind. I think I’ve mentioned this to you before, internets. When the new spring semester starts in January, I will be taking a class (if they ever add me, that is) and this is something I find moderately stressful for a variety of reasons. At least once or twice a week, I sway back and forth between really, really wanting to start grad school and really, really wanting to not start grad school. And it’s not like January equals grad school. Heavens, no. It just means I’m one step closer to starting and that’s enough to send me into a mild panic.

There’s something else that’s bothering me: my stunning inability to put together words. I sit down with every intention to write, feeling that wave of creativity surging up in my brain, and then I sit here and stare at the screen for long periods of time. I either sit and stare or just avoid it all together because really, who needs this kind of stress?

Well, I do frankly. I love that stress. Or I used to love that stress, back when something came of it. These days I’m too tired or too busy or not inspired or seemingly too inspired. I mentally go through the process until I convince myself that I’ll end up getting tired after ten minutes anyway, so why even bother starting?

This type of thinking has got to stop. I’ve written a lot of schlocky crap in my day but there are a few things I’ve written that are actually not complete steaming piles schlocky crap and no one is perfect and just write already, woman. It’s what you love. But alas, I’m afraid this love affair might be over. This saddens me more than you can possibly ever know. It’s like someone held me down and cut out my heart with a plastic spoon.

Speaking of which, this morning I had a dream that the janjaweed attacked me and hacked me up with machetes. I survived because Veronica Mars showed up and saved me. I was pretty bummed in the dream, not only because those machetes really hurt but also because Logan Echolls wasn’t there to rescue me. Later, I dreamed that my contacts were the size of my head.

Things I hate except for the fact that I actually love them:

+ Veronica Mars
+ The O.C.
+ Soup

Do you watch Ugly Betty, internets? If you don’t, you should. For many reasons, the least of which being Salma Hayek strutting around looking hot. I’m in love with Daniel. Just so you know. It really shouldn’t come as a surprise to you since he wears ties, has sticky-uppy hair, and is a total shmuck 90% of the time.

This not being able to write thing is destroying me.


Posted on November 28, 2006, in All about Sparkle Pants, Bullet In the Brain-Pan, Dreams, Rambling, TV machine, Writer of fictions. Bookmark the permalink. Comments Off on Nada.

  1. How could you hate soup? Even superficially.

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