evadne_noel: A man and the cresent moon in a rowboat (Bizenghast by M. Alice Legrow)
To those of you celebrating with a special loved on this most august of holidays...bite me. Hard.

Actually, I'm really not that bitter about the martyred saint's holiday, it's just fun to roll my eyes at it. It just seems like a waste of greeting card paper and stamps. A celebration of crappy chocolate and way too much pink, white and red. It's a night when Delilah and Love Songs After Dark become even more sappy than usual (if that is even possible). When boys my age take girls to Applebees and expect them to put out after. And girls expect pretty much the same thing.

I don't know; maybe it means more to people my Mom and Dad's age who have been together for years and want some time to celebrate their love.

HA! I'm funny.

So, ladies. If someone gives you chocolate, accept with a smile, even if it is a Whitmore's Sampler. Put on your prettiest dress and pretend your date realizes you're supposed to match. Gentlemen, put on your best sneakers for that date. And get her some pastel colored flowers.

But for God's sake, don't buy her carnations.
evadne_noel: A man and the cresent moon in a rowboat (beata beatrix)
Look, I’m not demanding. I don’t expect a lot from the back covers of my books. Yes, I am somewhat annoyed with the current habit of using quotes from people I don’t care about blathering on about how fantastic the novel is. I really would prefer a description of what happens in the book. But when the plot summary is inaccurate, it’s just as useless as the blurbs, and more annoying.

Read more... )

Survey’s still open, just so you know.
evadne_noel: A man and the cresent moon in a rowboat (Default)
I just heard the most disturbing thing ever on my classic rock station. It was a song which went: "He hit me and it felt like a kiss / He hit me and I knew he loved me."

To this I say...WHAT THE #()*)%#(*)&%#)& IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE!?!

I realize that this song was recorded by Crystals in 1963, but still...this was ever acceptable? "He hit me and I was glad"? And people wonder why we have problems with domestic abuse today when lyrics like this were in popular songs only 40 years ago, in living memory of (my) parents?!

And you know what's even more disturbing? You can get it as A RING TONE. FOR YOUR CELLULAR PHONE. RIGHT NOW.


'Cause you know, I am not in the best of moods anyway because I just wasted my entire weekend taking a comprehensive exam so I can get my damned degree in August. All I want at this time is to have a hard cider or two, watch the end of Utena (which, as peace of mind goes, is probably not the best thing to be watching right now), and forget that my degree is on the line until I get that damn pass for this exam. And what do I get instead?

evadne_noel: A man and the cresent moon in a rowboat (better check the oven)

It's that time of year again, peoples. Time for the college student to buckle down, do the reading he or she hasn't done all semester, and prepare for that most useless of pastimes, THE FINAL. Because, really, when has a final proven anything other than the ability to memorize and regurgitate facts? (I'm a papers girl myself.)

I'm in my last two weeks of the fall semester here at good ol' American University, and it is possible that I may in fact be already dead.

I've already turned in a paper for Theory (and with a class name like "Theory," you know it must have been fun), so that part is out of the way. However, a major project presentation is coming up, a PR writing portfolio is due, and a Research Methods final that requires me to do math for the first time since I realized that an English degree would reduce the necessity of my needing anything more than math (obviously I was wrong). Never mind the fact that I have pretty much just stopped sleeping.

I want to cry.

College students, this post is for you. Feel free to use this space to rant, commiserate, beg for sympathy or just plain burst into tears. I'm here for you.


evadne_noel: A man and the cresent moon in a rowboat (Default)

March 2009

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