Don't you know that 12:50 AM, when you need to be up at 8, is LJ time?
Today, I planned an Ohio trip for Monday and Tuesday with Corey and Daniel. We reserved a motel room and found five or six apartments to check out. A few of them seem like really good prospects, possibly even too good to be true. I'm trying to be optimistic without getting my hopes up too much.
I also got pressured into agreeing to try to do summer Shakespeare this morning, then convinced myself to back out by this afternoon. The professor in charge said he really, really,
really wanted me to do it, swore me to secrecy, and said he didn't want to cast Girl X as the lead because she didn't seem to have much potential, and thought I'd do a much better job. Later I saw Girl X getting all excited on Facebook about being cast in the role. Reader, I want to say I that did not feel a slight sense of condescension. I want to. Honestly, if I'd agreed to do it and been cast, I highly doubt I would have lived up to expectations, because I'm a terrible actor. It's kind of flattering that I somehow came off as someone who would make a good actor, though.
Honestly, right now, I'm mainly writing because a) I want to procrastinate on going to sleep, and b) I am ravenously thirsty, and I'm waiting for a bottle of water to get cold enough. I know that sounds crazy, but there are never any cold drinks in the house. Tonight, I remembered my love for
Violator/
Music for the Masses-era Depeche Mode and short-lived but intense crush on
Andy Fletcher of same. I always assume that Depeche Mode songs are about gay relationships, even though, to the best of my knowledge, the members are straight. Maybe? It really intensely takes me back to my freshman year of college, which is a bit weird, because I was actually miserable for about 90% of it until I met Corey. But I did listen to those albums a lot while walking back and forth to German class at night and trying to convince myself to stay in my dorm room with my horrible roommate instead of going home to my mom. (I usually went home anyway.)
But also, I'm having this problem. The problem is that I actually feel really creative, but I don't have any outlet for it. Normally, I'd want to write, but I did such a horrible job and was so uncomfortable in creative writing class this year, and it makes me feel like a failure. I know if I just do it for my own pleasure, that I'd never have to show anyone, but it seems like if I can't even write a sensible short story in an entire semester even when I'm really, really trying, that if I tried to write now as a creative outlet I'd just end up more frustrated and embarrassed than when I began. (Also, with a few exceptions, it seems that everyone I know my age who is seriously into creative writing is, well, massively pretentious and annoying. If you're reading this I promise I am most likely not talking about you.)
Anyhow, I really feel as though I'll never write anything that I'm not utterly embarrassed by, no matter how many times I try, and yet when I consider never trying again it's a really unpleasant thought. So should I try again, or just go back to embroidery? I did do some pretty awesome owls on a pillowcase the other day, so I might actually have aptitude for that.
I should also decide what to read next. I'm almost done with
Inkheart. I love YA literature. ESCAPISM IS AWESOME and I also have a fictional character crush on Mo, but not Brendan Fraser, because I'm sure that movie was awful, but the Mo that I imagined when reading, which is something like a cross between how I imagined Atticus Finch and something else. I just sat here for a bit trying to figure out who the other character was but all I could come up with is Niles Crane. Which is not exactly right. Anyway, I think I'm either going to give Cory Doctorow's YA books another chance because I have an idea for a CHLA paper, or maybe read another P. G. Wodehouse book, or maybe try
Fordlandia.
I actually feel really good right now, because I'm doing what I used to do on LiveJournal, which is just write anything that comes to mind at an hour when I should be in bed. This is a good feeling and I want it to continue, so if you get tired of reading this kind of thing, you know, scroll?
Water, are you cold enough yet?