I was watching Les Mis, and let me tell you, it made me les miserable. IT'S SO SAD. Like seriously, don't you think some of the deaths were a little gratuitous? Like Eponine's? And Enjolras's? AND FLIPPING GAVROCHE OH MY GOODNESS. Victor Hugo was an evil, evil man. Yes, I appreciate the plot, and no, the romanticism is not lost on me (this is me you're talking to), but why why why couldn't you just let them live? Kill off some of the other characters, that's okay, but leave my babies to live their lives in peace! Like, okay, Enjolras is saddened but not embittered by the loss if his friends, and goes on to hold a place in government to help maintain the country he loves, and Eponine decides that she likes being free of stupid Marius and lives a wonderful and happy life, almost exactly like Simone de Beauvoir's, and Gavroche grows up to be a passionate young college student like the rest of them, and everyone stays friends, and they all make enough money to buy many loaves of bread for Jean Valjean, who becomes mayor again and develops a budding frenemy-ship with Javert, who takes a philosophy class from Eponine and becomes less prescriptive in his views. And I guess Cosette and Marius can get married or whatever, but you know to be perfectly honest, I don't really care about either of them. They're just not dynamic, in fact they're kind of downright Shakespearean! Or like Lucie Manette and Charles Darnay from A Tale of Two Cities. Just kind of boring, even if they do have some of the loveliest duets. Oh man. Okay, that's what happened. I'm calling it; it's canon now. Victor Hugo contacted me from beyond the grave and said that if he had been less obsessed with the mortality of man, he would have used his considerable literary genius to create a meaningful work that was still happy (or at least, you know, not soul-crushingly sad). Oh my goodness, do I cry. I'm not saying it's not fairly cathartic and all, but it's just too much for my poor little heart to handle. Girl, I'm telling you, Enjolras replies "French Revolution" when asked the ubiquitous "who's there," and he loves France so much, and he's so attractive, and ugggh how could anyone kill him off? I'm in denial, and nothing will change my mind. 

This has nothing to do with anything (well, it really does; that was a little too much of a contradictory idiom for me), but I think I'm dying. At a quicker rate than I should be, I mean. You see, I forgot my medication at home last weekend, and I thought it would be okay to not take it for a few days, but now I'm extremely dizzy all the time, and my tummy hurts, and I feel like I have a fever. Walking around is difficult, because I feel like I'm about to pass out, and as for bending over and straightening up quickly, forget it. Frankly, I'm surprised that I managed to make it to my classes and back today. Tomorrow, I have to lead the discussion with my group in honors, so not only do I have to go to class, I have to participate actively, and I have to look cute while doing it. Actually, that last part is motivation, but it does add a level of worry at the same time, because what if I look disgusting and Cute Arthur hates me forever because of my Gollum-like physiognomy? What if I mess up my eyeliner and everyone spends the entire class period making bad jokes about wings? What if my hair gets so floofy that I hit someone in the face and permanently injure them? There are many factors about which I can be concerened here. Should I skip semantics tomorrow? It's true that out of all my (extremely wonderful) classes, that's the one I least want to skip, but maybe I should conserve my energy. No, but I shouldn't do that, since we have homework due. And I might not go to discussion on Friday, so I best be getting into gear here. I can do this! I'll get up at a reasonable hour tomorrow and eat breakfast (not just coffee!) and study a little, and take it easy. It will be A-okay. And if not, and I really do pass out, I can take comfort in the fact that maybe Cute Sean will be gallant and drive me to the hospital and we can have a Bonding Moment and all will go from there. That's sort of comforting, although tbh, I'd rather finish learning about semantics. But maybe I can have both. What if life but a dream anyway?

(I feel like I'm quoting something, but what is it?)

My skin is super dry right now. I just thought you should know.

Today, Michael gave me another poem. It's spectacularly bad too. What AM I going to do with that boy? Also, I feel like Sadie is jealous of this progression in our (purely platonic) relationship, and I'll be chuffed if I know why. Is there something appealing about having people continually hitting on you? Well, okay, maybe in the abstract. But not in actuality! This state and the slight advantage that it brings resides completely in the theoretical, and I feel like she should know that, since she is definitely much more social than I am (and a year older as well). But who knows. 

I should probably be getting off to sleep now, since tomorrow is coming bright and early. The only problem is that I don't want to, and as we all know, the will is the battle (that sounded really good, didn't it? I made it up myself, thank you everyone). Then again, I don't really want to do anything, so I suppose I can try to convince myself that this is just as good as anything else. Maybe it will work. All I know is that I must try. 

Goodnight!

men are butts

I just watched the cutest episode ever of the X-Files, aww. But now it's almost 2, so I really shouldn't watch another one. But it was so cute, man. The struggle is real.
Okay, so you know what other struggle I have though? This is super bad. So, about a week ago, I was just minding my own business, when little Eric asked if I wanted to go to dinner. This wasn't anything out of the ordinary, so I said sure, and asked who else was going. Oh dear, I shouldn't have done that. Little Eric, little hamster baby Eric, started to make a move on me. So, being the mature and elderly woman that I am, I didn't reply (I mean, I was going to see him in approximately fifteen minutes anyway; what's the fuss?). But this, too, was a mistake! When he and Michael and Cruz showed up, they talked to me, but little Eric, he did not. In fact, he kept conspicuously silent the entire evening. And then the next day, he bailed on dinner with Irene upon learning that I was going to be in attendance. Now if that's not something, I don't know what is. But that's not all, oh no! So, Michael, his roommate and dearly beloved friend, took this opportunity to make a move on me as well. Of course, I ain't here for that, but seriously man, why does this always have to happen to me? Do I release pheromones or something? Maybe there's such a thing as an Aphrodite Gene, and I have it. In the abstract, that's pretty cool, but pragmatically speaking, it's a little difficult to navigate, I mean it could lead to awkwardness and chaos and the launching of a thousand ships and all that. Arthur Symmons was wrong when he decried the anti-romanticism of the modern world– I'd say there are plenty of moths who are still willing to die at the flame of beauty. UGH. All I can say is, I'm glad Cruz has a girlfriend already, otherwise hallway encounters could potentially become even more damaging. Although, maybe things will take a turn for the better soon. The boys did stop by my room to ask if I wanted dinner (I'd already gone with Irene and Marissa though), and that was fairly civilized. But maybe they were looking for Sadie or something. Man, I dunno. I really hope dorm life isn't a microcosm of real life, because if it is, I'm in store for a calamitous future. Wait, hang on, I don't think I wrote about this before, but it's in the same category as these, and being the budding semanticist that I am, I must complete the set.
SO. There I was, sitting in my room, sick as all hell, and trying vainly to make sense of the ridiculous arguments espoused by the pseudo-Libertarians on tumblr, when Cesar decided to drop by. Now, I'm usually happy to see him, but I had tests soon, and I was so sick that I literally couldn't talk, so I was less than enthused about this development. And it turned out, I was right not to be. For dear Cesar tried to make a move on me, and the way he did it was so spectacularly ridiculous that I must share it for all future generations to enjoy. I will present it in the form of a teleplay.
Me: Oh yes, the economy, Lord of the Rings, linguistics, Shelley, Romanticism, lovely, very lovely! *insert at least three stupid puns*
Cesar: (doesn't say a word, just gazes at me wistfully)
Me: (feeling a little awkward at this juncture) So wanna hear a joke? Who's the cheesiest artist? Parmesan-ino! Haahahahaha
Cesar: (melancholically) Yes...
Me: Well actually, Parmigianino is pretty cheesy, I mean like he's the epitome of Baroque art, and we all know that was like the precursor of Romanticism and stuff, and the antecedent of late Hellenistic art, so like you can't get away from that, ya know eehehe
Cesar: (gets all up and touchy-feely on me)
Me: (feeling still more awkward, and wishing to divert his attention) But, enough about me, why don't you tell me about your life? How's bae?
Cesar: You know... Me and her... we're not in a good spot right now...
Me: Oh no, I'm sorry! Do you want advice? I can give you advice.
Cesar: No, no. But you see, I have no morals, and... I'm kind of okay with that.
Me:
Cesar:
Me:
Cesar: So, I want to see... if I'm a bad kisser.
Me: (sits for a second while my brain processes this new information) WAIT WHAT NO WHAT WHAT THE HECKY CESAR NO (scoots away with the ubiquitous *hand means stop* gesture)
Cesar: But
Me: NO
(curtain)
And that's pretty much how it played out. Why does this have to happen? I really think something must be going wrong here, like I have all this attention that I don't want, and there are people who might appreciate it more, so can't we just sort of redistribute things? But that's kind of communist, isn't it. Oh dear. So, in the name of my beliefs and intellectual integrity, I have to put up with the advances of man? I think I do. Well, it will be hard, but it is my cross to bear, and I can do no other. Let them come; I am not afraid.
Why me though, that's the question.
You know, I feel like I might wake Sadie up with my typing, so I should probably stop. I don't want her to throw things at me, or worse, wake me up tomorrow morning in retaliation. Also, I have my cog sci class at 11 tomorrow, and that's grievously early, so I should probably sleep. Goodnight!

It's actually late, guys

To the Very Loud people in the hall: it's 3AM. If you're not me and can make decent life choices, you should be asleep. Actually, even if you make mediocre life choices, you should be asleep. GO TO SLEEP. Let me enjoy my insomniac tendencies in peace, you noodles. Sheesh. 

2015!

Happy New Year! Also happy birthday to me; I'm 20 now (or rather, I've been for a little bit). So old! There have been countless rulers throughout the course of history who have lived and died younger than I, and even now, there are many people who have their lives all together and are doing impressive and wonderful things and whom I would fear to meet because of their accomplishments. Meanwhile, just a few days ago, I got lost in YRL for the fifth consecutive time. Oh dear me, I'm not in any way ready for the pressures and burdens of adulthood! It's not that I don't look forward eagerly to filing my tax returns in color-coded boxes, but really, there's so much at stake here. Now, instead of merely floating around advising people on stocks, I have to actually take charge of some myself, and that's frightening. I'd really rather be absolved of responsibility, and just observe things intellectually from afar. Isn't that just much more satisfying to everyone all around?
Also, my hair is falling out. I think this must be proof that I've well and truly reached an advanced age that can never be reclaimed. If only I could find some nice artist to paint a portrait of me that would age for me, and that I could conveniently ensconce in my attic! Sometimes I really think the good people in the Romantic era led much simpler lives.
I really need to go to bed, what am I doing up? Man, this is terrible. But then again, what else is a three-day weekend for, if not late-night Netflix binges? Not studying, that's for sure! Pssh, what do I look like, a nerd? No, but actually, I think I will read some semantics stuff tomorrow, because there's not a word there that doesn't bring abject and utter joy to my heart. And possibly I should read some of my regular linguistics book too, even though I know it all already. There might be something I don't know, after all. And that's what's so exciting about learning! There's always something new. If you think about it in a discouraging way, it's sad that you can never learn everything, but if you have a more positive view, it's wonderful and cool! So I think maybe I should prescribe to that viewpoint if I can, since it's (usually) more cheering to see the world through slightly rose-colored lenses. What am I going off on now? Two years of college, and I'm already a philosopher.
Oh, did I mention, I wanted to do a philosophy minor? But I think Cognitive Science has more classes that overlap with linguistics, so I'll probably do that. But still though, I would love to be able to take all those lovely symbol philosophy and mathematical logic courses. I would have such an amazing time, I'm telling you. Forget therapy; lambda calculus is the only panacea the world needs. Hopefully, semantics will go that route soon. Let's go!
Actually though, I should go. To bed, I mean. I have the vague sort of idea that sleeping after 4 AM is deleterious, but I'm not sure where I came by this information, or indeed how accurate it is. Maybe it's actually good to sleep with the dawn, who knows? But I'll subscribe to the mores of society and go to bed now. What else could one expect from a mature 20-year-old, after all?