shimmery

Today it rained in the morning and is sunny, warm, and breezy in the afternoon. All days should feature drastic weather shifts!

Even though I'm dreading having to walk to classes in the rain next year, I do have romantic notions about discussing literature in an old-fashioned academic building with rain tapping against the windows.

I love discussing A Passage to India in AP English. It's not the most riveting reading I've ever done, but the conversations the next day are always interesting and I'm beginning to greatly appreciate the character development.

The Oscars were great last night. Even though I wished for more recognition for Cold Mountain, Girl With a Pearl Earring, and Lost in Translation (among others), I was happy with the LotR sweep because the trilogy really deserved to be recognized. And Return of the King was, in my opinion, the strongest of the three. I also really want to see The Triplets of Belleville now. I thought the dresses were really nice. There weren't many that made me cringe. I especially liked Renée Zellweger's, Nicole Kidman's, Patricia Clarkson's, Scarlett Johannson's, Sofia Coppola's, and Diane Keaton's tux. And Jude Law and Johnny Depp looked great--Kristen and I defended the latter's choice of hairstyle to Amy, Ashley, and Molly at lunch. And I will never get over Allison Krauss' voice--my dad is a huge fan of hers, so we have some of her CDs (mainly Allison Krauss + Union Station stuff) at home, but her voice surprises me every time I listen because it is just so beautiful.

when she is good she is very very good and when she is bad she is horrid

A lot of the time the stuff I'm upset with isn't the stuff I react to.

I was just thinking today about how voter apathy is more frightening to me than political views I adamantly disagree with, then I could barely stay awake studying for my Government test, a portion of which happens to be on voter behavior. I guess I'm an issue person, not a method person. But even I know that's stupid. The textbook is just boring. I have no motivation whatsoever, today. It's so much more fun to play around with the new computer or to just sit around in my room eating a piece of chocolate from Valentine's Day (as soon as my Valentine's day chocolate is finished I'll go back to the freakishly--for me, at least--positive eating habits I sustained from late December to, well, Valentine's Day) or to read a book I want to read. Having this sort of lazy evening probably means that tomorrow I'll be filled with motivation for many of the things I'm avoiding today. It's mood, not material, that changes the way I get things done. (Of course, I can't just not take my Government and Psychology tests tomorrow because I wasn't in the right studying mood.)

At least I can honestly say I will never not vote unless a horrible emergency happens on the way to the polls.

I need to read The Fountainhead. It's my wonderful birthday present from Preethi. My birthday was November 4th. I've been wanting to read it for so long, but other books keep popping up more urgently (for school assignments and other, shorter books, too, which speaks volumes as to my recently flighty attention span). But I was just at fastweb.com, and there's a great scholarship contest that involves writing an essay on The Fountainhead and I need money. The problem with national competitions is that there are thousands and thousands of kids competing for the same supply of cash. But the thought of $10,000 is worth the probable disappointment. I don't think I got any money from the Target scholarship, I'm almost certain I would have heard back by now. I'm embarrassed because I know of a couple people from my school who got money from the Target All-Around scholarship last year, and when I went to visit Marquette with Kristen and her family, our tour guide said it's an easy, commonly won scholarship to apply for. So I quietly got my hopes up.

I wasn't even planning on stressing out about college stuff tonight, especially with this strange suffocating laziness buzzing around me. Is it possible to want more than anything to go to college and to dread it entirely at the same exact moment with every fiber of my being occupied with both wishes? Yes, of course!

Sometimes I wonder if I'm going to be a screwed-up person someday because all I want to do is write and paint and photograph. Then I think that fame is what messes people up, and I don't think I'll ever be famous. Then I think about how the occassional glass of wine will probably be the extent of my alcohol consumption, and doesn't that have a lot to do with how screwed-up you are, at least according to biographies? (Jackson Pollack video today in Painting class.) Then I remember that there are thousands of obscure alcoholics who have never been immortalized in biography. Then I remember that I can hardly read biographies anyway because I get so depressed by all the sad childhoods and substance abuse problems and the scary dry spells in which great artists just don't create art. Then I think that my childhood was so fantastic I don't have anything to worry about, and besides, I'm not a genius and so far it has been insane happiness that has prompted writing/art binges. Then I think that it's incredibly egotistical to worry about such things, when I should really be worrying about whether or not I'll ever stop writing livejournal entries long enough to compose something beautiful and coherent and complete.