oh, and by the by

I just was looking over old posts and realized that i once hoped that more activity would bring me out of the blue funk in which i find myself. meh. i laugh in the face of optimism. everytime i get up, there's something dragging at my heels...emily or the world or colleges or the inanity of society or my family or stuff.

and speaking of which, why don't people know what i mean when I say "how's tricks?" When did that stop being a phrase people recognized? and where the hell did i pick it up in the first place? for clarification, how's tricks means how's life sex death the universe your mother shcool your best friend your worst enemy everything nothing your future your hormonal cycle catfish macedonia your past work sleep health philosophy the state of the union and other stuff of that sort.

basically, what's up? (not that that phrase makes any better sense, if you ask me)

moral gerrymandering, and angst-whoredom

so i'm tired and emotionally and mentally stressed and sexually frustrated and in a bad hormonal place and questioning the existence and nature of my sexuality and trying not to kill anyone and writing papers on ancient greece, and i still can't shake the feeling that i'm an ugrateful brat who really needs to get a grip on herself and realize how priviledged she is, because her life could be so much worse.

The curse of the bourgeoisie...how sad our lives are.

off to read some escapist fantasy and deny the existence of my problems and, more importantlym the problems that aren't mine, but that I try to acquire in a sort of avarice of depression. i'm an addict, what can i say...why do you think all the people i know are so fucked up? masochism rocks.

speaking of which: moral gerrymandering! i made that phrase up, and it rocks. and stuff.

excuses and gym

hoo boy. it's been a while, neh?

so i've got a couple excuses for being off in my own little world. one is that i didn't have much to say. another is that i had far too much to do--school started again, and i'm doing what i do best--taking insanely hard classes and working my ass off, that is. yet another is really a secondary facet of the whole back-to-school thing, as being back at school means that i am yet again exposed to my friend emily, the most dysfunctional person on the planet, who frequently mistakes me for her therapist, which takes up my time and energy. the big one, though, is that i hate having to repeat myself. and by the time i get online, i've usually said everything i feel is interesting a few times already, and so i guess i'm just not inspired to have to explain myself once more. plus i feel like i have to give backround and stuff, because otherwise a stranger reading this will be bewildered. but as of today i've decided to screw the strangers, i'm going to bitch about whatever i feel like.

i hate personal fitness. i can't run worth shit, and i know i'm in worse shape than is strcitly healthy, and having to run the mile simply doesn't help that. i mean, if i'm gong along and running about the best i can (not well), and my friend-person beside me is saying that she should really try, but she's not, because she's only taking the class to graduate, that doesn't help my self-esteem. i'm the reason all students have to take this idiotic class, or rather my sort of person is, because i'm the person who has always had better things to do with my time than get in shape.

at least i'm not like emily, or not anymore. emily says that she's "going to be an artist, going to be a writer, so why do i need to take this stupid class?" I at least admit that this is something i ought to do, even if i haven't got the moral fortitude to make myself do it. but why can't we walk? i hate working out, but i hate running more. plus my teacher is the sort of person who probably aspired to be a personal fitness teacher her entire life, which is sad and puzzling and somewhat disturbing.

and that's all for now.