guanin: (Jack Bristow)
( May. 3rd, 2008 12:40 am)
Writing is frustrating lately. Like really, really frustrating. I've rewritten the same fragment 4 times (5, 6 ?) and I'm still nowhere near happy with it. It's driving me mad, I tell you, mad! I just don't know how to work this thing, which is weird, because I've written many things like this before. I think that the fact that I've never written the POV character before might have something to do with it. I've also been suffering from a slight lack of ideas lately, but I think it's lifting. The rest of the fic is fine; it's just this one scene, really.

I re-watched an episode of Doctor Who to lift my spirits. I'm not sure if it accomplished its purpose, but at least seeing Christopher Eccleston made me smile.
I've been anxious ever since I got that e-mail from Goldmsiths, thinking that maybe they'd already accepted me and the letter was in the mail. Since we live in the sticks, the mail people doesn't deliver to the house, so we have to go to the Post Office to pick it up. I really wanted to do it yesterday, but I had the option between getting stuck in this huge traffic jam or skipping it by just going home. I chose the second option. So I finally went today to check the mail, hoping that I might find have gotten something from them (or Birkbeck, I haven't even gotten a hint from them). and I did find a letter from them, requesting that I submit evidence that I know English. Apparently the personal statement and research proposal aren't enough. I was so almost certain that I would finally get an acceptance letter from someone so I could finally get moving on getting a VISA and housing, but noo. I'm going to e-mail them to explain that, no, I don't have an IELTS or a TOEFL score, because I've been speaking this language my whole life, therefore, I didn't take those tests. My Dad says that a letter from my old school, which is all in English might be enough. All I know is that I wanted to write and now I feel like hell. I think I'm just to watch something.

I just realized that the letter is dated March 19. That was two weeks ago! Why didn't they just send an e-mail like the fees officer did?
guanin: (david wtf)
( Mar. 12th, 2008 02:10 pm)
I just had my left rear view mirror destroyed. I don't know if this qualifies as my first official car crash or not as a driver. I've been pretty good at keeping myself out of scrapes, though I don't know how considering how many close calls I've had. Anyway, I'd just left the house. I live up in the hills, what we call "el monte", so all the roads are very curvy and often you can't see if another car is coming depending on which side you're on. I was on the outside part of the curve which curled to the left, so I had a second's chance to see if anyone was coming. The cars coming from the other side, though, don't, so I don't know why the fuck this guy was almost three feet away from his side of the road. Over here, you can't be more than a foot away, or you risk running into someone. I swerved to the right, but of course there wasn't enough time and the mirro just exploded all over me. I didn't even realize what had happened until a few more curves later. Yes, I kept going, because I'm incapable of stopping to figure out a situation until my brain has had enough time to assimilate it. I suck at this kind of stuff. In any case, I couldn't have stopped without risking someone ramming into me from behind (again, you can't see for the curve) and I think the other guy kept going to. In any case, I didn't get a chance to see what car it was other than a dark SUV and the one I drive is so common that there's no way he can tag me just from the split second he might have seen me. I have no idea if insurance covers this, since obviously there isn't going to be a police report, but my Dad will take care of that. He's not the kind to freak out, so I'm not worried about that. It's really amazing that I've been driving for five years now and this is the first time something's happened, though. Now I'm just tired and cranky.

My leg still hurts, though I'm limping less than yesterday. I just felt a headache coming on, though. Ack. Stupid PMS. I'm going to have to write some smut later to cheer myself up.

Oh, and I flunked the Physics quiz today. So did the rest of the class, including this friend of mine who is supposed to be good at math. The professor says that she'll through it out if we do too badly on it. It was that disastrous. I feel kinda bad for her, since she really does try to explain things as easily as possible, but mathematical concepts are so confusing. My brain my designed for this, I'm sure of it. I need words. Lovely words.
guanin: (david hands)
( Mar. 11th, 2008 11:53 pm)
Seriously. My little toe still hurts from when I smacked it against a table leg two weeks ago (the bruise is still there). A friend of mine acidentaly dropped his very heavy bookbag on my right shoulder as he was hugging me, so that hurts. Now my left thigh is sore for NO REASON. None. There's no physical explanation that I can think of. So now my back is beginning to bother me because I've been spending too much time sitting down. Oh, and I slipped on some wet floor yesterday and fell down, so sitting isn't really comfortable, either. And now I feel the depression part of PMS creeping up on me. Further proof that my body hates me.
And what is so ridiculous about that is I'm stressing myself out. It's not schoolwork; I don't even have any. This is the easiet semester in seven years of college. I know that next semester I'm going to get pummeled in grad school, though, so I've been considering this as a bit of a vacation. It gives me time to write and that's the reason why I'm feeling like this. I finally tried giving myself a deadline to finish something, because I need to learn time management, (although really I have another fic idea encroaching on my mind that's not letting me concentrate) and combined with the interminable process of getting into grda school, I got myself so worked up and I didn't even notice until now. I'm writing this down just to give my brain space to breathe. I didn't know that self imposed deadlines could be as stressful as professor imposed ones. And I still have to fill out transcript request forms and write the statement of purpose for the last university. I've had the application sitting on a shelf with both letters of reference for like two weeks. Ayayay.
Many things bother me about Heores lately. This is just one of them, but it's the only one I feel compelled to write about, at least for now. This isn’t as well developed as I would like, but I’m too tired to make it more coherent.

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