Odd Sleep Patterns

I haven't been sleeping well lately. I don't really know why, but I've got the sneaking suspicion that it's to do with these Hurricanes that keep happening, that and my mattress isn't the most comfortable. It has caused me anxiety, especially over the last couple of days. Saturday night I was concerned about my family, and last night I was concerned for myself.

I could hear the branches of the tree that lives outside my window scraping the roof above me last night. It's an odd sound. Like something is scurrying around in the ceiling, mice or rats or malnourished children. After the power went out it was the darkest I had ever seen(or more accurately, not seen) the room. No green glow from my alarm clock or my roommate's (although hers is red), no yellowish beams from the wall light outside my window. It was eerily dark. The scraping of little malnourished children didn't help.

After the electricity returned, everything was back to normal, except for the malnourished children, but well, the wind hadn't died down yet.


And now....a portion of a conversation between me and Amy (this conversation has been edited to run in the space allotted):
<>
Amy: Maybe YOU are a figment of my imagination
Amy: . . .
Me: i think I am
Me: maybe the real Laura died in a fiery car crash 10 years ago, and the person you think is Laura stole her identity when she was 2 and has been obtaining credit cards in her name from Lane Bryant and Sears, Roebuck & Co.
Amy: Ahaha
Amy: You have such a rgeat imagination, the real laura or not
Amy: so if "you" died 10 years ago but "you" have stolen your identity since you were 2, then what happend to the years between 2 and 6?
<>Me: i'm not quite sure where you got the 6 because I'm 19, and in that time period, the fake laura (me) was laying low, because infact, I was equally young, and didn't quite know what a "credit card" is. I think for a good while I used it as a chew toy when I was teething, but you'd have to ask my mom about that

Sneezing Outlawed in Florida!!

This week it was announced that sneezing in all Florida counties is now illegal. This drastic measure has been put into place in hopes of avoiding yet another hurricane this season, because face it, you sneeze and next thing you know, there's a hurricane coming for your house. And if you haven't gotten that this is a joke yet, well then have I got a bridge to sell you. It's big and pretty, cars stuck in traffic included.

So, you've heard about Hurricane Jeanne by now. I don't know how the rest of Florida is fairing, but Tallahassee is okay. Lots of folks are out of power though. Florida State's campus still has power though (unfortunately). Last night our power went out around 12:30. I was actually writing a paper at the time, and the interruption was welcomed, mostly because I thought it would result in cancellation of school for the next day. Yeah, didn't happen. I got up this morning after a fitful night's rest and discovered that my alarm clock had messed up the time, and instead of 7:45 as it said, it was actually 6:45 (thanks M. for telling me) and I was awake an hour before I wanted to be. No problem, thinks I, I'll just go back to sleep for another hour. After that extra hour, I woke up and checked the FSU Website to see if they cancelled school like normal people would. I unfortunately did not have a genie who could make the website say: "School Cancelled". That's right, ladies and gentlemen, they asked us to go to class in Tropical Depression conditions. At least that's what it felt like. I was furious. The power had been out for hours the night before at my house, and the same was true for most of the city. But apparently since FSU has power, we had to go to class. [Confession in 5...4...3...2...1] Alright, I confess [see, I told you], the reason I wanted school to be cancelled was because I had a paper due at 1:25 and I had written only one [rather weak] paragraph.

I know, you're on the edges of your seats wondering if I finished my paper. Well, I'm not a bad TV show, so I will tell you right now. Yes, I finished my paper. I was 5 minutes late to class, but I finished my paper. And on top of all that, it was pretty good too. It was fun, and cool, I liked it. My teacher said she will grade them more leniently than usual, for which I am very thankful.

So that was my experience with Hurricane Jeanne. Well, there was more, but I don't feel like writing about that now. Maybe later tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never. You'll just have to wait and see.

Deplorable Lack of Humor

Today I have felt a deplorable lack of humor. I was not particularly funny in my classes, not at home, not walking between class, nowhere. I am hoping that people just didn't find me funny today. Not that many people do in general. My roommate, M., doesn't seem to find me very funny lately. Some things that I find rip-roaring hilarious don't seem to even tickle her fancy. Maybe I'm not artsy enough. Maybe she's just a humor snob, and if it came from this nation, it can't be funny. Maybe I'm just not that funny. It's ok, I haven't been funny for most of my life. High school drama class: wasn't funny. Sunday School: wasn't funny. Summer job: wasn't funny. Funnier than the job itself and the 50 year old women that work there, but still, not funny.

I think I'm tired.

Thank You, VH1 for Reminding Me How Much I Love the 90s!

For those of you who don't have access to cable television, I am truly sorry. You are missing out on a GREAT show (series really): I Love the [insert decade here]. So far they have completed the 70s, 80s and my personal favorite, the 90s. I haven't actually seen all of the 90s yet, at least VH1's take on it, I saw the 90s in their entirety starting 14 years ago and ending 4 years ago. Even though the show aired over the summer, I was at home where we don't have cable and we devote our time to mastering the fine art of hybridizing plants on Harvest Moon. Anyway, I Love the 90s has revived my love for 90s music. As I sit here typing, the Spice Girls' "Wannabe" is flowing into my ears. The Spice Girls were by no means the pinnacle of 90s music, but man they were good, not talent wise, but their songs are so stinking catchy! If you were a 6th grade girl in 1996 like I was, you most definitely listened to the Spice Girls, and the Backstreet Boys, and you probably had a crush on Justin Timberlake or JC Chasez, although I was thankfully spared from the teenie-bopper crushes...no crying over inaccessible guys in this camp. Pining maybe, but no tears shed, really. I saved those for people I could actually talk to. Although there was that thing for Leonardo DiCaprio, but that was really because I needed someone to pine after, nothing serious, except for those dreams, I mean....never mind.

Sledding (Part 2)

(Before reading this you might want to check out the first part of this story)

Upon discovering the minefield of cow pies, my brothers and I prepared to attack the hill like never before. We knew that getting down the hill would take shrewd negotiations of the cow pies, we would have to steer. Our first attempts were miserable failures. We would start down the hill doing some strategic leaning, and end up with our faces in the snow. Time and time again we tried this, until we finally made it all the way down the hill, leaving an S-shaped path behind us.

One thing we hadn’t realized at the beginning of the expedition was that some of the cow pies had been dropped early that morning and they had not had time to freeze solid. The exterior appeared the same as all the others, but the insides were still soft and smelly. I discovered this phenomenon the hard way.

We had finally mastered the technique of leaning to navigate the hill; at least, that’s what we thought. The run began as all the others had, but on this occasion, I took a lean a little bit too far, steering us over a rather substantial cow pie. Our craft was thrown off balance, and we were sent sprawling in the snow. My lean caused me to be thrown one way, and my brothers the other. I hit the snow on my side and began rolling, why waste a perfectly good walk up the hill? I did not notice the cow pie ahead of me. I rolled over it and hear a definite crunch-squish sound, and, well, let say the odor wasn’t so nice either. I had discovered that candy isn’t the only thing that comes hard on the outside, soft on the inside.

By the time I got to the bottom of the hill much of the manure had rubbed off my jacket onto the snow, leaving dark spots on the otherwise white hill. The smell, however, had not rubbed off. My brothers doubled over in laughter as I huffed and puffed about it. Eventually I got over it, and we continued our sledding.

Letting My Thoughts Cook

It's 9:36pm. I have homework to do. I'm not doing it. After spending much of my afternoon reading Big Love over and over, I've decided to take a break and let the play cook in my mind for a while before I attempt to find something in it about which to write a paper. Letting it stew for a while is definately the best thing I could do right now. Earlier this evening I spent half an hour lying flat on my back, my right leg bent at the knee, my left fully extended, my toes playing with the electric chord for my alarm clock, wracking my brain for some way to tie a few thoughts together to at least getting rolling on my paper. I found nothing. Thoughts would fly through my head, and just as a reached out to grab them, they would dissipate, like fog on a sunny day. I'm tired of writing papers for this class. This is the second paper in one week, the fourth over all. There are 9 more to go. Each 1,000 words, each more difficult than the previous.

So I've decided to let it stew in my brain. These things take time. I'm waiting for that "ah hah!!" moment, when everything starts clicking, when everything falls into place. Until that moment comes, I am doomed to continue mulling over the work of Charles L. Mee (Chuck), hoping beyond hope that I will not be up into the wee hours of the morning.

On a completely different note, I've stumbled across a blog by a girl filming a movie in Italy. Seeing as we have somewhat similar choices of profession, I have found her blog interesting. And she's in Italy. Have I mentioned that I want to go to Italy next summer? Well, I do. I've been praying that it is in God's will to send me there. I spent this summer sorting checks for other students who got to travel all over the world for mission trips, and it sparked a desire in me to go too. So I want to go.

This afternoon I took a break from Big Love and lay down on our patio swing. My head propped up on a pillow, I watched the sun filter through the trees on a nearly perfect evening. Nearly perfect only because I still had homework to do. The air was perfect: warm, but not hot; the breeze cool and gentle. I dozed off, my book open on my stomach. I dared to imagine for a moment that I didn't have any responsibilities. The computers all were working perfectly, my essay was finished, printed and in my backpack for the trek to class tomorrow morning. There was nothing I had to do, nowhere I had to be. Then my courage floundered, and I returned to real life: the computers still ran slower than Fat Albert, I still had work to do, my essay was still a cluster of discombobulated thoughts colliding in my grey matter.

Current music: Fiona Apple-Sleep to Dream
"You say love is a hell you cannot bear, and I say give me mine back and then go there, for all I care." Awesome song. You should hear it.

They Finally Got the Hint

If you've watched the weather channel in the last week, you've certainly heard about Hurricane Ivan, which is scheduled to reach the Florida panhandle and gulf coast some time very very soon. Until the afternoon, my beloved Florida State University had not closed school for tomorrow, a fact which had the entire student body up in arms. Did they not know that a class 4 hurricane was bearing down on Florida? Even my Play Analysis instructor was put out by their apparent insensitivity towards the hurricane.

About 5:30 the university succumbed and cancelled classes for Thursday, and the celebration began. I happened to be in the living room when everyone found out, and there was a general eruption of joy from every voice in the house, except mine, I never have class on Thursdays. Everyone changed their plans for the evening. Instead of staying in and studying, everyone started getting ready to go out for a night on the town.

The boys from next door came over and we watched Donny Darko. Everyone was a little bit confused, but some more than others. Soon after the movie they left for a Halo tournament. Boys will be boys, eh? My roommates and I watched Hero, the version with translation by Chinese people, the one that is accurate. At least that's what my roommate says. I spent most of the movie making fun of goofy looking hats and slaughtering the Chinese language, unintentionally of course.

Now it's after midnight, and we're watching Peter Pan, the live action version made last year. If you haven't seen it, then you should. Forget that it was made for children; it's a great movie, especially if you can still let your imagination run away with you.

Just Stuff

Today has been a "blah" kind of day. I went to class this morning, and frankly, it didn't spark my interest. Once again in my Tech Theatre class we talked about the Florida State University School of Theatre Production Handbook. Despite being written by artists, it has to be one of the most boring pieces of writing I have ever encountered. Not that it's supposed to be interesting, but for goodness sake, for people who's jobs it is to teach people how to entertain, you'd think they could write something that would pique my interest. But no, we instead spent 50 minutes of valuable sleep time reading verbatim from the Production Handbook. It was mostly about fire safety, what to do in case of a fire, stuff like that. Stay calm and run for your life was basically the gist of it.

AND FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, WHY HAVEN'T I GONE TO THE POST OFFICE YET?!?

Anyway, after Intro to Tech Theatre, I had Intro to Shakespeare, where Dr. Barbour told us what to think about Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. We ended class right before everyone DIES. I was disappointed; I wanted to read about the deaths of Hamlet and company. We start Othello next class, after the dispatchment of every major character in our current play. Right.

I came back to my beautiful house on Jefferson St., the sidewalk of which is currently barricaded by our mountain of rubbish (crammed neatly into garbage bags) pulled from the bushes and flowers of our front yard last Saturday morning. I personally dug up five saplings from the maze of bushes which surround my front porch. I didn't want to, I like trees, but I would never hug one, unless it talked back, not that I talk to trees; never mind.

MTV kept me company while I ate my lunch, then I went upstairs and took a nap before my 1:25 class, to which I was on time for once. We analyzed a play, sort of, talked about it, yeah. It was pretty interesting though. I just don't want to write the paper for it which is due Wednesday.

After that, everything has been "blah." And this has been my "blah" day. Buy a llama.