Thursday, February 17, 2005

Whoring for Candy

I realize, dear readers, that I am a young woman with no few faults. I am prideful (although I prefer the term "smugly self-confident"), I occasionally experience moments of filial hatred (as evidenced by the now infamous - among my family members, anyway - entry "My Parents are Sadists"), and I have an unfortunate tendency to not listen to people.

There may be several reasons for tuning out the mindless drones of my inferiors. Sometimes, it is obvious that they are just not putting in enough effort in keeping my attention, and in this case I consider my attention to be a lighted torch at the end of the tunnel, a goal to which the speaker must strive to attain as if it were as precious as the Holy Grail. In this manner, I am actually encouraging people to become better speakers, and thus improving the intellectual status of the social circles I attend.

However, my integrity is not an entirely unassailable tower of purity. There are cracks, there are nooks and crannies through which even the most helpless of orators may squeeze, if they contain the one key that inevitably draws me to them like a fly to honey.

Candy. Sugar-coated delights. A memory wrapped in a dream tied in an enigma and then dipped in chocolate and nougat. Sweets. Les bon-bons. Ever since I began attending univeristy, most notably the Student's Union Building (SUB), I have noticed that such places of public interaction attract people who are eager to get their message heard, their club noticed, their religion acknowledged as something a tad more legitimate than a clone-worshipping cult. Normally I ignore them, unless, of course, they grace their tables and displays with bags, boxes and bowls full of brightly-wrapped candy.

Then I take notice. Then I listen. Do I agree with what they say? Hell no, but I'll certainly act like I do for the few seconds it takes to distract them while I raid their "Please Take One!" platters. Would I like to join the Church of Lizard Stallion Queens? Well...hey, is that a mini-KitKat bar? Do I believe in practicing safe sex? Yes, because I have no sex! Hmmm...Hershey's Kisses...uh, no thanks, you can keep the complimentary condom. So that is it. If you have a ridiculous plan for a New World Order or are the head of an obscure club, as long as you provide the goodies, I'll temporarily provide you with a purpose for your empty, empty lives.

Of course, I'm not entirely without guilt. There's only so many times you can nod, and smile, and reach again and again for the chocolate-covered mints without the other person acquiring that rather disappointed, fixed smile that lets me know I've blown my cover. It's even more difficult if it's the same person who manages the same booth, because if they aren't keen enough to discern that I never leave empty-handed and that they can't recognize me from any of the meetings or Black Masses, they assume that I'm trying to develop a relationship with them and even go so far as to learn my name.

What is worse is when then ask me to offer my own opinion. It breaks my heart to liberate Tootsie Pops from the Baptist Ministry table (for a scientific experiment - how many licks does it take, really?) while telling them how my former Baptist father converted to Catholism and how incredibly happy he is now that he isn't going to hell. Or to unwrap a Werther's while pointedly demanding the Church of Latter Day Saints missionaries why God would create over 12 billion people, but only let 100 000 of them into Heaven. I am trying to wean myself off of it, really I am, but if all they want to do is talk...

Okay, so I'm exaggerating about the 'going to Hell' part, but the general idea is the same. The thing is, I may look like a beautiful, wealthy, fabulously talented writer/singer/public speaker on the outside, but on the inside I have a voracious sweet tooth that cannot be denied. Just so you know, I may look perfect, but I'm not. Mostly, but not completely.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

La-la-la, I'm not

Animejune lives!
Thank for your incredible patience, dear readers. I took such a large, long break, and I've left you all out of the loop and me with at least a month's worth of news to divulge. So, let's make a list:

-Christmas: Greedily speaking, this was the most profitable Christmas this year. I can safely say that nearly everything I received was something that I wanted or eventually found a use for, even if I was previously unaware of that want until I unwrapped the paper. Along with a lovely book about the "1001 Films You Must Watch Before You Die" from Nana and Papa, I received the 2005 Short Story and Novel Writer's Market, and of course, lots of money and gift certificates that resulted in a number of wonderful packages that arrived later in the mail.

-Birthday: Yes, I am 19 now! My presents were lovely. My parents bought me a year's subscription to Locus magazine (although the first issue I received was August's. They must really have a backlog), a new dress (black, short, teh sexeh..), and tickets to see the Citadel Theatre's performance of West Side Story, which was sub-par, but that's hardly my parents' fault and I had a good time nonetheless.

-Topher Grace: I saw In Good Company and while not dazzling, was certainly well-written and pleasant. He hosted Saturday Night Live and I am very sorry to say that he was a Reactionary Host, and the whole thing was rather boring.

-Writing: I'm doing a whole lot of it, actually. I'm working on a short story, and I'm up to Chapter 14 of my novel (and page 292, if I'm not mistaken), and I've come up with at least two more novel ideas once my fantasy trilogy is finished.

-University: Very difficult. I'm a note-taker for a girl in a wheelchair with reduced hand mobility, and that's rather nice, but all of my classes require a buttload more reading and note-taking then before, and I have my mid-terms coming up in a week, and I have two papers due.

Once I clear March, however, I believe the whole thing is going to be rather easy. I'm also volunteering more at the Gateway.
I'll try to keep in touch.