Talking Soup

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.

You know, I would really, really like to be able to post some of my writing--none of the big stuff, but backstory stuff, drabbles, that kind of thing--on a place like DA. Not because I'm a whore for comments or what-the-fuck-ever, but because, I dunno, I want to know what people think. I love characters; I love my characters; I know other people like characters as much as I do. I love seeing people's original characters wandering around their galleries. I just think it would be nice to have that as well.

But dear God! I never knew places like DA were so fucking dramatic! DA used to be awesome and filled with awesome art and such, but now it's nothing but flame wars, personal attacks, fanart of the same damn shit over and over, and "OMG SRS BIZNIS!" When the hell did places like DA get this pathetic? People are leaving there in droves or going invisible because people are such assholes. If you post something that someone doesn't like, it's like a given that you'll be flamed.

I mean, at least if you write and publish a book, it's out there and you get people talking about it on forums, reviewing it on Amazon and such. Stuff like that is usually pretty easily avoided, to some degree, and of course you just learn to develop a thick skin over time. But posting something in a gallery? It's right there where you are, and when people like or dislike it, you hear about it immediately. It's the equivalent of writing a book and putting your home address and phone number on the cover.

I feel so bad for the poor artists and writers who post things on large sites like DA and then get run out of town with pitchforks shaped like lolcats or whatever! Whatever happened to "don't like it, don't read/view it?" Or was that ever the standard?

I feel like an old person for saying it, but whatever happened to common courtesy?

And don't even get me started on the art/writing theft. God! It's getting to the point where I'm almost afraid to post excerpts here under friends-lock for fear some little shit will find it and try to pass it off as their own or something. Admittedly, the only people who really know me online are RL friends, but I've been paranoid and self-conscious about my writing for my entire life. I would be devastated if I found Boone or Kaz or Violin or Kaiyss on someone else's site. That's a part of myself they'd be stealing!

And I do mean devastated. Like, "my boyfriend of 5 years broke up with me and I'm going to spend a month in bed now, kthxbye" devastated. I wouldn't know what to do with myself. How do you fight art/writing thieves, anyway? It's not like I understand copyright laws.

The theft thing was my main deterrent for posting anything online for the longest time (it's why anything that's writing related and specific to one of my projects goes under friend-lock). Now, recently, I'd been thinking I might give something like DA a try, but no! Everyone's too fucking immature and pathetic!

And on the flipside, dear god, what if I got the yaoi fanbrats slavering over E and Kail and being all "OMG BUTTSECKS KAWAII!"? What if I had people shipping characters who just shouldn't be shipped? Imagine the Kaz/Aidan shippers, since everyone's so into enemy!hate!sex these days. Christ!

If I ever get popular enough that kind of thing might happen anyway, but I just really don't want to see that kind of stuff when my babies are still learning to walk.

I'm not so arrogant to think if I did have a gallery or some shit that people would actually stop by to check it out. But still.

I love wank, don't get me wrong. Particularly fandom wank, because it's usually just so goddamn stupid that it's hilarious to watch. It's an entirely different matter when you've got personal attacks on someone's work going on. That's another beast entirely, one that should be put down.

So, thanks a lot, Internets. Way to completely discourage me from ever trusting people online with anything.

I got in a car accident.

I'm okay. I was in the Albertson's parking lot, turning into a space, and I hit the gas instead of the break. I hit a pole, or rather, the concrete thingy at the base.

Did you know that when airbags deploy, they shoot upward and shatter the windshield? The things you learn during car accidents.

The front fender is a little messed up and the passenger-side airbag totally killed the windshield. There was glass all over the inside. The airbag was smoking, too, since the thing is pressurized with that powder-gas stuff, the same stuff they use in fire extinguishers, I think. It's really kind of foul stuff. I got out, checked the damage. The car is actually okay, for the most part. I was mostly worried that I'd hit the guy in the space beside me, but I missed by about six inches. He was very nice about it all.

I was pretty much fine until I called my mom for help, then I just broke down crying. It's one of those things, you know? The reality of everything doesn't hit you until you hear your mom's voice. She told me to call the cops since the car wasn't driveable, so I did and we got the car towed. Mom came out to help too. It'll fuck with our insurance, but I don't think it'll affect my driver's license since there was no injuries and no damage except to the car.

The thing is it's my dad's car. The Mercedes. That car is his baby. He said he'd let me drive it while he's in Asia. Heh, told me to take care of it and look what I go and do. He's going to murder me. It's not the damage so much as the fact of it all. He trusted me with this car that he loves and I failed. Admittedly, I'm not as used to his car as I am with the minivan--it's harder to handle and all--but still. I mean, what a stupid mistake, hitting the gas instead of the break. Sure, sure, everybody does it, but it's still ridiculously stupid. Dad will probably never trust me with his car again, not that I'd blame him. I completely fucked up. That's mostly while I was crying, that and shock, because I know he's going to kill me for this. Mom and the cops and the guy in the space next to me were all saying that he'd just be glad I didn't get hurt, but that almost makes it worse. I'm not saying that I wish I'd gotten hurt or something, just that it would make things easier, since he'd probably be less mad at me. I mean, that car has never gotten in an accident. It's never even needed to be detailed or anything. And then I go and crash it. So our insurance will go up, plus the cost of towing and repairs, and that's on top of him already being mad at me for the credit card bill last month. Don't think I'll be using the credit card much after this, assuming he even lets me keep it. I'm already fucking things up for them with the costs of college. And my parents want to do work on the house and all that, and they keep telling me they can't because of the college fees. I'm costing them all this money already, and now this. I should have been more careful.

I'm just glad I didn't hit anyone else.

Well. I'm going to try to stop kicking myself long enough to enjoy Lost later tonight. And then tomorrow I'm off to the wedding. I managed to buy a dress today, after the accident, and I've got a wedding gift. Yay, more purchases on the stupid credit card. I'm so pathetic, the way I throw money around, when the money thing is straining my parents and a lot of people I know. Who the hell do I think I am? I'm about this close to just putting the card through a shredder so I can't waste money on stupid things like skirts and huge cookies and manga anymore.

Anyway. I need to find my itinerary and get some shit done before Lost. Sorry I'm so emo.