Fabulous!

"When I am dead, I hope it may be said: 'His sins were scarlet but his books were read." - Hilliare Belloc Time for change. Like the new look? Well, I don't care. Everything was personally manipulated with the old version, and it just got too hard to keep up with. This way, my every need is already catered to, and I can just deal with looking like everyone else. A golden straightjacket, if you will. If you really miss the old format there's nothing I can do for you, but you could use your imagination. As a matter of fact, if you squint at your screen, the pretty letters look like they’re dancing. Dance away, sweet alphabet! How your seductive gyrations beckon with the promise of linguistic fulfillment! *Ahem* Tuesdays and Wednesdays were designed to slowly kill my spirit. On those days I'm in class for a solid 7 or 9 hours. It's miserable. Today, in Shakespeare, we had to watch a 1960s production of The Taming of the Shrew with Liza Minelli and Michael York. I was astounded at how well these people made 2 hours seem much, much longer. I felt it did more against my health than a pack of cigaretts. Then, in Film History and Theory, we watched The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. It's a German silent film made in the 1920's about a guy who uses a sleep-walker to murder people. It was surprisingly interesting, but again, 2 hours of my life I can never get back. Luckily Once Upon a Mattress practices were cancelled today, due to a guest artist event shutting down the fine arts building. I wish I could have gone. My friends say it was really good. But I was busy with Caligari at the time. I also had One Act practice in HAL, so it was fun screaming and knowing that I was really bothering people. My nemesis has made herself more prevelent in my life as of late. I see her all the time now. Specifically she was at my first Collegian meeting. She had icecream, and she was eating it more irritatingly than anyone else could. It was like, "I have icecream and you don't, and it's so good." I sometimes wonder if her smile is detachable, and she takes it off when she sleeps. I almost went to Smoke Night for the first time this evening. As one of the charter members, I feel bad for never going. But on my way there I realized that I had nothing to smoke, and would look like a tool if I just showed up and immediately start bumming. So I dropped by a poker game and came back to my room to hang posters. Now we're all sitting at computers and the walls are still bare. Bare like my lovelife. OK, that was lame, but lately I've been thinking about the fact that I haven't dated anyone since I was almost raped freshman year. I'm alone and a dork. With that, I leave you feeling sorry for me. To any women who read this: feel free to throw yourselves at me... unless you're a creepy stalker, in which case you can admire from afar and write letters to yourselves.