Trust Me, the Ramblings Go Somewhere

So, y'all, I just had an epiphany yesterday on the Brown Line on the way to my dentist. Remember how I used to want to write, but was never really sure what I was doing, but got really excited anyway about the idea of it? And then, remember how I got kind of jaded and realized that it was ridiculous and decided to just sit around for a while instead? But then I gave myself a swift kick in the ass AND THEN, I started studying for the LSATs and THEN I started writing this blog entry? Good times.

But yeah, I had a point. Um, writing! Yes. I wasn't lying when I once said that I would probably be happiest if I could find some way to make it as a writer. If I had to enter into some sort of Faustian pact. I don't know why it's gotten so strong after college, but it's still there. Even now as I continue to study for the LSATs and work towards the actual goal of going to law school. By the way, I totally KICK ASS at Arguments. Most of them are just rehashes of stuff I already learned in Psychology and Statistics. And now that I've said it, I'm going to completely fail. Great.

Gosh, I'm in a great mood. I blame the endorphins from running/working out, since I've been doing it every day this week. Hurrah! Let's keep this up.

Wait, I really did have a point. I still want to write. That is my point. I think part of the reason I got so frustrated is that I had no idea what I was doing, and wasn't writing about anything that I actually knew about. Isn't the old phrase, "write what you know?" I was just writing about something I thought was cool. That's just not good enough. And then it hit me like Zeus' lightning: I've had a really weird life, y'all! Like, really weird. And, maybe interesting?

I COULD WRITE ABOUT ME. Or, well, kind of. Since I doubt anyone would want to read a book (some other thingy) about me now. But I could share my stories in exaggerated or (in some cases) cleaned up ways, and make them interesting to regular people. Like young girls, who are struggling with some of the issues that I struggled with during my teen years. I still haven't completely figured myself out, but I'm miles away from the way I used to be.

I'm totally serious in my facebook profile that I can't tell if my life is straight out of a soap opera or a sitcom. Someone's gotta find that interesting, right? And it'll be nice to talk about some of this stuff, without it seeming like I've got massive problems. I'm better in writing anyway, except for this rambling rant. It's good catharsis and will hopefully be entertaining to at least a few people out there.

THESIS: I think I still want to write. I'm going to be taking the LSATs and doing law school stuff, but I still want to try to flex my creative muscles. Maybe I'll take a class or something...

How Long is this Sustainable, I Wonder? Let's Find Out.

Me: I'm kind of bored...
Brain: Why don't you write a blog entry about how bored you are?
Me: Oh, nobody would want to rea...oh, wait. I see what you did there.
Brain: Just saying. You need a haircut, FYI. You're getting a little bottom-heavy. Er, with the hair. Of course, just meant the hair.
Me: Yeah, I know. I just don't want to schedule the appointment. And then I'll have to pay, especially since I already told myself I'd get partial highlights of an auburn hue as well.
Brain: That's weird. Will you be able to maintain the haircut to go with the highlights once you get them, or are you going to end up looking like a marmoset or something?
Me: A marmoset? Really?
Brain: Well, whatever. I don't trust you either way.
Me: Have you ever wondered why she writes us as being two different concepts? Herself and her brain? That's kind of weird. And unnecessarily meta.
Brain: I always assumed that I was the conscience or, um, the incentive. Uh, the drive to better herself or something.
Me: Then why are you so mean to me?
Brain: Oh, it's good for you! You wouldn't get anywhere in life if I just went on and on about how you were special and had a destiny or something cheesy like that.
Me: Special Destiny?! You mean like Starb--
Brain: NO! No. Let's not go there. We all know how that went, and I don't think you want that. Plus, YOU NEED TO STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS SHIT. Haven't I made sure that you had enough headaches and mental weariness because of it?
Me: ...hey my Toaster t-shirt should be coming today!
Brain: I give up. Frak it.
Me: No, hey, no. Don't be sad. I'm doing better with it. We had angry thoughts on gender issues and only tangentially applied BSG to them. And, um, Eric got us thinking about the Constitution and rage and stuff. You got to pull out actual knowledge from undergrad Con Law class and everything. That didn't really have anything to do with BSG. Oh, oh and um we've been looking for new apartments on the internet, so that's a new project. Plus, we still carry that LSAT book around everywhere. I even opened it the other day!
Brain: Yet, I had no part in actually doing anything with it. It was just open. On the desk. And then you closed it after a while.
Me: I CAN'T DO ALL THE WORK, YOU KNOW. That was your part, and you failed. FAILED.
Brain: Pshaw, not my fault you found other ways to distract yourself. Most of the stuff you do at work doesn't require me at all. Plus, we're really really lazy. It's a thing.
Me: Yeah...maybe I should call David. My hair is really annoying me.
Brain: Good. That's a good project for the next minute. Do it now before you get distracted by, like, some stranger's crazyass meta about how Starbuck is really a super sekrit suprise!angel and Sam and Kara were actually destined to...oh, too late.
Me: What? It's an interesting, if not ultimately reaching take on the characters and the concepts of free will and destiny and higher powers, etc. etc.! Plus, you get to think too! What?! Okay, fine, I'll call the salon.
Brain: And then can we do a logic game?
Me: We'll see. Can it be about BSG?
Brain: SIGH. I'm not giving up on you, you know that right?
Me: I know. I'm not actually this crazy, but you're so much fun to mess with!
Brain: You still haven't called David.
Me: FINE.
[brief interlude]
Me: THERE. 11 AM for haircut and partial highlight. ARE YOU HAPPY?!
Brain: Ecstatic. My next project is getting you to regularly work out. You're almost there. If only you would stop putting on your pajamas immediately upon getting home. And you wonder why some people think you're depressed.
Me: I LIKE TO BE COMFORTABLE. And that applies to my not working out too. I've come to dread it, since I know it will hurt like hell.
Brain: But it's a GOOD hurt. We like that hurt. And you actually feel pretty damn good about yourself after intense workouts. Don't you remember?
Me: I guess. Hey, you think anyone is still reading this? We kind of ran out of steam a while back.
Brain: Yeah. I don't know. I don't think this ever actually had a point, to be perfectly honest. She just wanted to write something, so we got wranged in so that she can pretend to express something. Not that it was anything of substance. We're just blathering on about whatever pops into her head. None of this means anything. We don't really represent anything here.
Me: Hey. Hey, Brain.
Brain: What?
Me: Hee. Does this mean--
Brain: What?
Me: Are you alive? :D
Brain: ...
[Brain has left the chatroom]
Me: Hello? Hello? Are you there? .....Oh my, I'm sleepy.

Fin