Their depravity nose no bounds

28 September 2011

Good evening sexy persons of awesomeness,

Have I told you lately that I love you? Well it is true. I do.

The true believers may be aware I took the Graduate Records Exam (GRE) today. Recently I thought, “I may want to go to graduate school again at some undetermined point in future.” So why not take the GRE?

I believe I am legally prevented from sharing any details at all about any experiences in the secret room where scared humans sit wearing headphones and chagrined faces. I believe the GRE police (GREP) will track me down to the ends of the earth and snap off all my toenails if I so much as breathe a word of the secret room.

What I can tell you, even at risk of excruciating pain, is that when the GREP tell you to take everything out of your pockets, they mean EVERYTHING.

My friends, you know I am sick and you know I am a citizen of the planet Earth. When I am sick, like now, I usually use handkerchiefs for the expulsion of nostril mucus. The GREP prevented me from taking even a handkerchief into the testing room. The GREP told me I could take some tissue. What? And destroy Earth with every sniffle?* How dare you GREP? Snot cool. Snot cool at all.

Take it to the bridge!

Punch the time clock at the olfactory.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*I actually do use facial tissue, but I find arguments are more convincing when you can pretend a moral superiority.

Scribbles and bits

20 August 2011

It is technically the 21st. I know this fact. I do not mind.

At approximately 8:30 PM I used the coffee maker to brew a pot of coffee. I then drank four cups with the intention of staying up, listening to music through my headphones and writing a bit.

And, so here I am.

I just signed up to take the GRE in September. As soon as the purchase order went through (at the discounted rate of $80 as opposed to $160) I almost began banging my skinny fists on my table/desk in pure exhilaration.

At the end of earning my Master of Arts, I was convinced I would never want to return to school. Yet, events over the past six years continue to pull my heart in the scholastic direction.

So, at some point in the next two years, I will attend graduate school again, with the hopes of trying my hand (and fingers) at creative writing.

I don’t consider myself a top-notch writer, nor do I even believe I have something clever or original to say. I just like saying stuff.

I read the writing of my friends JP and MP and GF and I think they are so strong and unique and interesting. They continually feed my passion for words and language.

Writing for me is a tactile experience (as is making music). Fingers on keyboard, pen in hand and on paper. Writing feels right.