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I think my eventual claim to fame will be that I break a world record for number of blogs.
My new blog, Ever After, where I blather about daily life and how boring it all is and somehow turn my boredom into interesting writing, is a sequel to The Bohemian Semester. Some of the latest blog entries feature a Polish guy I met, wiki-ing the word "penis" at work, using wine glasses as huge fiery suction cups on people's bodies... yeah, I think that's enough.
I think my latest get rich and famous scheme (I literally have at least two a week that I seriously obsess over) is to write an award-winning blog satirizing my business school experiences. So much to satirize, so little time. But first, a trip to China, then a month of hectic school, then two weeks running away to Australia. Not entirely sure how I'm going to get all my shit done, especially with my aggressively growing dream of starting my own business before the school year ends.
In other words, I am as arrogant and crazy and delusional as ever. How are you?
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I am tired of humanity. I'm tired of the fruitlessness and pointlessness of life, and the fickleness and triteness of society.
There is no point.
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| I haven't done this in a while, and since I've been sick with food poisoning and it's midterm week coming up, I think I have a good excuse. Anyway, I went back five years and this is what I found:
http://www.xanga.com/radiance/70174592/item/
Context: March of freshman year of high school. 2004. I'm going out with Hall and I think the "let's study" reference has some weird sexy connotation to it, which shows you HOW COOL I was back then.
Fucking adorable. Poop on a stick and pickup lines. Featuring Jason, Arthur, Hall, Marcia, Dave, Andrew, Alee, Jialu, Billy, and Deb... | | |
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weaving a melody (12:43:31 AM): you know what i started wondering
weaving a melody (12:43:39 AM): if all these nude sculptures/ paintings
weaving a melody (12:43:52 AM): these people don't have any body hair except on their heads
weaving a melody (12:44:00 AM): did the ancient romans just shave everything else
jaxunz (12:44:07 AM): nah
jaxunz (12:44:14 AM): body hair didnt evolve til like the 1750s
weaving a melody (12:44:19 AM): shut up
weaving a melody (12:44:22 AM): =(
jaxunz (12:44:29 AM): lol how am i suppsed to know.
jaxunz (12:44:32 AM): cmon alice.
weaving a melody (12:44:39 AM): i definitely believed you for half a second
jaxunz (12:44:42 AM): am i an expert on ancient roman body hair?
weaving a melody (12:44:42 AM): or i had a moment of doubt
weaving a melody (12:44:43 AM): i hate you
weaving a melody (12:44:48 AM): MAYBE YOU ARE
jaxunz (12:44:52 AM): lol tru
jaxunz (12:44:56 AM): i do know madd random sht
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Here is the truth, and nothing but the truth: I can't do things.
I say I can, I act like I can, or at least I used to. And maybe it was true in the past -- I've been told I was intimidating in high school. But I fell, and I fell really hard. I am incapable of doing simple tasks.
I can't find a job this summer. I know I still have time, but it's running out. I freeze up when I deal with applications, and writing cover letters is no different. I follow the formula and don't get hired. So I decided, in a spurt of good mood this afternoon, to try to write something different, something more energetic, something more me.
My roommate liked it. Then everyone, everyone else shot me down. And while this is a necessary thing, and I definitely asked for it, and this will save me from looking stupid, I wish I could've just written something more competent. I tried to imbue my sense of creativity, passion, and motivation into this letter. It's harsh when people tell you those things don't matter. And it makes you feel like a child.
I'm sick of people telling me, "Hey, look, just let me send you my cover letter." I'm sick of being a creative musical energetic marketing entrepreneurial crazy person in a school where everyone just wants to be in finance, to conform, to look professional and make bucketloads of money every second. I know how finance cover letters should be written, and I know that to some extent a job is a job, but I really truly believe that marketing firms would want a different type of person than a financial firm.
So why am I incapable of showing my personality subtly while being professional? Why am I so resistant to authority, and bureaucracy, and rules, and duty nowadays? I'm fighting against things that can't be fought against, that aren't physical, that won't even give me the satisfaction of being very slightly dented if I punch it. I'm too weak to make any holes in the wall, too insignificant. I'm restless. I'm defiant.
I wanted a life of extraordinary means, one with incredible stories, one that could accomplish things. And it scares me when I feel like I'm slipping farther and farther away from anything that I looked like I was promised to be in high school. I know a lot of people probably go through this phase in college, but that's small comfort.
I want to do things; I don't want to do anything. I want to have accomplishments; I'm too lazy to make any leaps. I want to be accomplished; I don't have nearly as many skills or abilities or talents as I thought I did. I don't want to sink into a hole of apathy and routine, but what other path am I paving for myself?
Fuck everything.
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