AstroSass

Excess Mental Energy
2002-06-05 01:31:58 (UTC)

Crap.

I just lost half a page of entry when I accidentally
clicked something. Crap. Crap. Crap...

The Job is going ok... so far it's mostly data entry and
pages and pages of little tiny numbers. I have also figured
out how to use AIM on my breaks (but just for ten minutes
or so at a time till my eyeballs stop spinning from the wee
numbers.) And I'm getting paid fairly well, so stuff is OK.

I have discovered this strange tendency to be a literary
snob. I won't check out library books that are by well-
known trashy romance/mass-produced thriller type of
authors, and I'm not sure why, since all I really look for
in a book is that it's moderately engaging and interesting.
I'm sure I've read some awful books in my time that I
finished just because they were amusing. Still, I've got
this strange compulsion that everythign I read should be of
some kind of smart, snappy merit - as though I should only
read things consistent wih the smart, sassy, edgy, artsy
kind of person I have always wanted to be perceived as. So
when I run out of books by my "favorite authors" (so
defined by my having read one or two of their works and
liking them) I'm at a loss, because I don't know where to
go next. Literary snobbery and fear of not liking what I
pick at random kind of paralyze my freedom of shelf-
grazing. And I just don;t get it.

I wrote a poem yesterday. I haven't written a poem since I
was fifteen... I never decided whether I was any good at
that or not, though i pretty much made up my mind a long
time ago that I was never going to be a good enough writer
in any style to make myself believe I was good. So I sent
this poem off to a trusted literary critic type of friend
and we'll see if she can cut through my indecision... i
look at it one minute and think, yeah, this is cool, it
isn't perfect but it could be really good, and the next
minute i'm like, this is such crap, can I unsend that
email??? I've been like that about almost everything I've
written since the initial flush of "Hey, i'm a writer" wore
off sometime in the ninth grade. And I don't get that
either, not entirely. (This is becoming a recurring theme.)

I'm not sure where this garrulousness came from. Wow. (hey,
another thing I don;t get.)

----------
"...I should wear tiger pants, i should have an affair..." -
line from a Sylvia Plath poem
----------
Conversation with Greg earlier today:
G:"I wish I could play drums like that."
R:"I wish I could play electric guitar... So now that we
have half a band...?"
G:"We should form one!"
R:"We'll have to work on rock-star hair. i could experiment
with further bleaching."
G:"I could grow a mullet."
*mutual laughter, etc*




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