Here comes the grand finale...

Today: Free day. The most I plan to exert my brain or any other part of my body is during game night tonight :) COME!


Saturday: Study for Calculus III all day. I'm looking for a tutor and WILL pay.


Sunday: Study for Shakespeare all day. Don't need a tutor for that.


Monday: Wake up early. Eat a hearty breakfast. Write 3 in class essays for my Shakespeare final.


Tuesday: Continue studying for Calculus. Spend the majority of the day in my professor's office freaking out.


Wednesday: Sleep in. Wake up. Eat a hearty brunch and pray to God I pass my Calculus final.

• Wednesday Night: Drive to Austin/Leave Dallas forever (estimated time of arrival: 11:00 p.m.)

Thursday: Meet with apartment finder bright and early. Hopefully find something relatively quickly so I don't have to worry about it for the rest of break.

• Thursday Night: Watch mindless movies (mainly the Imogen DVD) with Jessica and celebrate me finding my husband somewhere in Austin.

Friday: Go home.

So close. But so far.

For a someone.

The smell of books and chatter of the senile saturated the room.
There you were in your chair, unmoving in anticipation.

I took a seat.
Close enough for recognition.
Far enough for avoidance.

You said my name.
I turned.
We talked.

Talked of things old and new,
Things of irrelevance.
Things of simplicity.
Things that filled the silence.

Our time was cut short.
It was your time now,
No longer ours.

As you spoke I sat motionless;
Pretending to listen.

My gaze pierced your divergent eyes.
Begging them to look my way,
Afraid of my reaction if they did.

Your voice sang in my ears.
Your charm subdued my stare.
The bitter taste of stale coffee blanketed my tongue.

I wanted you.

I imagined what it would be like.
I imagined us in a coffee shop.
I imagined easy conversation decorated in laughter
Where your hand would naturally brush against my own
And your smile would derive from me.

Imagined a time when you would look at me as a someone.
Imagined a time when I would be your inspiration.
A time when you would call me her and us we.

The slapping of claps tore into me and revealed what would never be.
There you stood, seemingly by yourself;
The ring on your finger stating otherwise.

You looked at me and smiled.
Not at me, but for me.

You were out of time and I was too late.

Tempting...

I'm thinking about posting one of my most recent stories (the only one I haven't grown to hate) on this here blog.

However, I worry about copyright (even thought I doubt anyone would steal it but you never know) Not to mention the mere thought of making one of my stories severely public is a little intimidating.

I doubt I'll go through with it. Although, I'm a little too spontaneous for my own good so I may one day (in the moment) decide it's a really good idea and put it up.

I need to stop procrastinating. I'm supposed to be studying for Calc III.
Sara and I are going to the musical at 9. I'm excited.
You should come too; it's free.
It's about spelling bee children; how strange; how original. I hope they sing the spellings. I doubt they will.

Sara introduced me to Mitch Hedberg tonight; if he were still alive, I would track him down and marry him.

Watch this, you won't regret it: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IueXtzdC6kA

I'm going to study for the next hour(ish). Also, if you have an iPhone or if you're unfortunate enough to own a droid go download heytell. It's the best app ever. It's free. I'm obsessed. 

If you don't have either of those things, then (I guess) you can just text me. If I don't answer, refer to two posts ago... the line about texting me.

Buh-Bye for now.

CHOCOLATE MILK.

"Yes I'm blue, but from holding my breath"

Spanksgiving's over! You know what that means?!?! 

I'll give you a hint: Red Bull, Adderall, and sleep deprivation are all involved. That's right kids, it's almost finals week!

*applause*

I'm already losing it.

I'll post a real entry again one day...

after life lets me out of its chokehold.

Until then good luck with finals, wish me the same.

Or not.

My name is Jordan and I am Passive Aggressive.

To no one.... More like a correlations of things that have been bothering me:

• You're not good looking, you're fat. Get over yourself.
• You're bad at acting happy. Accept that you're not. There's nothing wrong with having a moment of discontent.
• Being nice doesn't mean that I have to like you. It's this thing called being a friend... A damn good one at that.
• I wish you were more clear in your feelings; you keep me on my toes. I don't like being left on my toes, it makes my calves burn.
• Stop lying, I think you're developing a habit of it.
• If I don't text you back it probably means I don't want to talk to you.
• I hate you. I just need to start acting like it.
• Hate is a strong word. In this case, it's necessary.
• You're settling... or do I just tell myself that?
• I wish you would learn to see the quality of life without money. You're too materialistic, you live vicariously through expensive things; it's sad, really.
• You're fading fast. Come back.
• I miss you, I want to make you proud. I desire to be half the woman you've become.
• Don't ever criticize my family again, I'm embarrassed that I didn't say anything.

And to even the score:

• I'm a hypocrite. 
• I lie about stupid things.
• I'm insecure.
• I'm the biggest flake I know.
• I'm horrible at keeping secrets.
• I daydream like it's my job.
• I have awful selective hearing.
• I complain about not doing well in a class when I don't try as hard as I should.
• I'm to blame about a lot of the things I complain about.
• I envy a lot of people for random things.

I'm done being a negative nancy.... Just had to get some of those things out.

ONE MORE CLASS UNTIL BREAK.

This guy....

I'm just a little bit of a Shakespeare buff, I've taken more than just one or two classes on the matter and so I'm proud to say that I can find my way around his plays pretty easily.

Every teacher I've had has been obsessed with a different component in his texts. Some like to study racism, others the environment, and as for my current... well, she's obsessed with sex. Those that I speak to on a regular basis have probably heard me refer to her as the crazy Canadian. As the name implies, she's full blown Canadian. I never had anything against the Canadians. Despite the fact that their pronunciation of a good majority of the english language is annoying and sometimes obnoxious (i.e. crevasse = crevASSe), I never really had a problem with any of them. 

Then again, I had never met a Canadian nationalist. To sum things up in euphemistically, she's a Canadiangelist. Much like an evangelist, except to Canada and not Christianity. 

None of this really has anything to do with the story I'm about to tell except the fact that she's the one who first told it. I, being extremely biased towards everything she says because I really don't care for her, found it to be very out of character for her because it was funny. Then again, it's about sex so I guess it wasn't too far fetched.

King James. We all know who he was. Pretty average guy, was named King of Scotland at the mature age of 13 (months, not years) but most well known for his reign over England. Anywho, I could bore you with his biography but I lack the time and the knowledge.

While discussing the end of Othello my teacher began on a tangent about the consummation of marriage at this time. Turns out, back then, right after the wedding the newlyweds would get in a bed (covered with a curtain) that was present at the ceremony to... well... you know. 

The people present at the ceremony would party around the bed while this was taking place. Well, our friend James was known for sticking his head into the curtain at every wedding he attended to offer words of "encouragement."

I don't know... I just thought it was hilarious to think of this guy:

Popping his head in on such an act.

Writer's Cock Block

Yes, there exists such a thing as writer's cock block.

The fiction writing class I'm in revolves around the workshopping of stories written by us (the students). There's only about 10 of us so over the course of the semester we've all become a pretty tight knit group. A lot of this has to do with the fact that we read and discuss each other's stories which is one of the most personal things a writer can do - allow someone to not only read their piece, but offer raw feedback.

You come to learn your habits when composing a story; some grammatical and others much more complex.

I've found that now that I've become more aware of my own flaws, it's much harder to write. I know where I want to go with the characters and how I want events to play out, but it's the process of smoothly getting there without reverting back to under developed characters/relationships, mistakes in plot, or a sense of absurdity in the character's actions that proves itself a challenge.

Thus, I have writer's cock block. I have been cock blocked by the students in my class. Though it may be for my own benefit and I will become a better writer for it, writing my current story is proving to be a bitch. I need action.

Happy Frappy

I've been stressed lately. Really stressed. I couldn't even begin to tell you why though and believe it or not, I don't think my 2 jobs and upcoming week of creative hell (lots of projects due) has anything to do with it.

I don't want to sound depressed or emo, because it's not like that, but I feel like something is missing. Though everything seems to be going according to plan, something is not right in The World of Jordan. I wish I knew what it was so I could get rid of this anxious pit in my stomach.

I feel like I've been given everything: so many doors have been opening for me and in that sense I couldn't be happier, but it really just goes to show that just like money can't buy happiness, neither can living your dreams.

Happiness is contained within the soul, and in order for it to emerge in your life I believe you must reach a level of consciousness with yourself and the abstract world around you. Nothing secular can bring it to surface, it's spiritual and with that, I've decided to begin to explore the spiritual realm.

I've never been a religious person and don't think I ever will be. There lies an immense difference in religiousness and spirituality, they are not the same thing; thus, I plan to become more spiritual. I'm done ignoring the idea of God just because it's too hard for me to wrap my head around. This is the year I remove the label of being an "agnostic" and search for something to believe in; search for happiness.