talkingsoup: (sasuke lost)
This is the week from the deepest reaches of hell. Four major papers due, three of them within the next few days, not to mention response-type papers sprinkled in there just for kicks. This one essay has bee absolutely fighting me for the past week. Usually essays are a breeze for me, but every once in awhile one like this will come along. It doesn't matter how motivated I am or how much research I've done or whether the topic is interesting--it just doesn't want to get written, and the end product is essentially a bunch of words vomited onto a sheet of paper. I went to bed at 6 in the morning last night, and I don't expect to get more than 7 hours between now and Friday.

I also don't have a job yet, and I really don't have time this week to even call the one place I've turned in an application to, never mind fill out the forty-fucking-minute applications for Borders and Barnes and Noble. Never mind that, unlike past years, I need a job in order to survive. Welcome to the world, right?

On top of it all, a kid is dead.

I didn't know him at all, but he was a Writing major, a freshman, and he was found on campus in the same pond that we released a goldfish into three years ago. Maybe it's because this is the first time a student has died on campus since I started coming here and he was found maybe 200 yards from the apartment, or maybe it's because we've been calling it Buster's Pond because of that stupid goldfish, but this just makes everything else seem so ridiculous and unimportant and weird. I just want to go walk in the woods and clear my head but I can't even do that. And to think, they've been searching for him all over for the past two days, with helicopters even, and all that time he was just waiting in that pond.

I feel stupid for caring so much and stupid for just wanting to work on my papers and stupid for acting like it means something that it was Buster's Pond. And I feel stupid for putting all of this here because I don't have time to actually talk to someone.

I'm starting to hate this campus. I don't even feel safe here anymore.

At least I'm getting a kitty on Friday.
talkingsoup: (rain)
So my dog, Shadow, died this morning.

My brother called me from the vet with my parents. I guess Shadow couldn't walk anymore. They had to put him to sleep. It wouldn't have been fair, otherwise. Shadow always liked to run.

I always worried this was going to happen. Shadow was old. I knew it was going to happen soon. I just didn't want to get a phone call. I wanted to be there with him. With my family.

I heard it all, though. My dad was on the phone with me when they gave Shadow the shot. Dad was crying. I've never, ever heard him cry before.

I just wanted to be there, you know?

I don't think people who have never had a pet--and by pet I mean like a dog, cat, horse or something--can really understand. Shadow might not have been human, but he was a person. He was part of our family.

Had a hard time this morning. Julie, silly and amazing person that she is, postponed her date to stay with me and make me hot chocolate. Love that girl.

It's weird to think that I'm going to go home and he won't be there. That I'll never find dog hair in my food again. That there won't be an extra stocking hung at Christmas. That my Dad will never send me another e-mail about something funny that Shadow did. And all the things that won't be used, like the dog food, the dog dishes, the leash. He was a constant. Something that's just always there. He's not supposed to just go away.

It's tough, but I think I'm okay, mostly. They're right when they say that remembering all the good times helps. And I know he's happier. I don't believe in God or Heaven or any of it, but wherever Shadow is, I know he can run again. He can chase squirrels and motorcycles and clouds all he wants, and try to catch snowballs in his mouth, and jump up on everyone. He's in the wind now, and I bet he loves it.

You've got the whole world to run through now, puppy. Have fun out there.
talkingsoup: (shippuden new day)

Ding-dong, the witch is dead
Which old witch?
The wicked witch!
Ding-dong the wicked witch is dead!!!

That's right, boys and girls, Jerry Falwell, enemy of humanity, is dead! Dead, dead, dead, dead!

I would try to be polite and civil about it, but really, it would be dishonest. And I shan't be dishonest with you here.



Will this change anything? Not likely. Still, it's one more person gone who would happily put just about everyone I know into concentration camps. The world could use a few less of his kind.


P.S. Julie, guess what! I used faulty parallelism in the title!! We is nerds!
talkingsoup: (naruto fearless)
For everyone who hasn't heard it yet:


Yes. According to Naruto Central, which I consider pretty reliable. They say the fillers end the 15th with an hour long episode that will contain the Kakashi Gaiden.



Everything good is happening in February, has anyone noticed? Lost comes back, Avatar comes back, Naruto comes back, lots of books and movies come out. Oh snap.

Well, anyway. Still at it in Okami though I'm getting close to the end. I've gotten a little writing done, though not half as much as I want. That should change tonight, though, since I'm at The Fight. This is probably gonna be the second biggest fight in the book, a three-way fight between the two main "evil organizations" and our heroes. I'm gonna get to work on that in a few minutes. Meanwhile, tomorrow the the 'rents and I are going to Ano Nuevo to see elephant seals. Whee...still, it should be interesting.

My grandparents dog, Dougal, died last night. He was a sweetie--a huge golden retriever. Purebreds tend to have a lot of health problems, though--apparently his spleen ruptured, probably from a tumor. It's sad. This is the dog I've known since he was a puppy, when everyone called him Lion Paws because his paws were so big. This is the dog that then got so big that he was able to drool all over my own dog's head ^.^ This is the dog who would pick up his stuffed lobster and bark at you through it, so he sounded kind of like "mmff mmff mff!!" whenever someone came to the door. And now he's gone. Hearing the news made me lavish attention on my own dog.


I just really don't want to get a phone call while I'm at college. Shadow is about 12 now.

And now I'm all depressed again...

I gotta remember that I still have my dog and he's still crazy and adorable, even if he does smell. ^.^


talkingsoup: (Default)

April 2011



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