| Wayne State is sarcastic.... |
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| 11:00am 07/07/2009 |
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mood:  amused
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So it turns out that I have less school left than originally thought. Now I have to call the English department and figure out what classes I need for my major.
It's pretty exciting!
But it was kind of sad-funny, because my adviser had to explain to me that the STARS degree audit only works for people in the traditional four year track. She reset it for (I kid you not) people beginning school in the term "Beginning of time." Come on! The beginning of time? It's pretty bad when your school says that about you.
I mean, I"m paying them right? That don't have to be so fucking sarcastic. (Actually I'm kind of amused, but shhh.)
So now...the only real question I have left is...to minor or not to minor? My adviser said I should just go to graduate school, but... I'm not sure yet.
I'm kind of leaning toward no though, because really I want to be finished so I can stop being the butt of all the jokes of the STARS degree audit. And then I can do something else, I mean I'm already stuck with an English degree, there's not much a minor can do to help me now. |
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| Still trying to get all the way to Z... |
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| 07:29pm 11/06/2009 |
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mood:  thoughtful
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So I found something out today, that really bothered me even though I know I shouldn't let it. It's something that I should have realized and come to terms with a long, long, LONG time ago. But obviously that's not in my nature...
But at least I did accomplish some things.
I've been ruminating about a lot of things lately. Like what exactly am I going to do after I graduate? Go to graduate school at Wayne State? Go to graduate school somewhere else? Move to South Carolina with my 'wife?' Move to Korea?
I'm thinking that it would be a good idea to move somewhere new. I need a change. And there is no use trying to keep things from changing, because as is evident today...things never stay the same anyways.
And besides, how am I ever going to get all the way to Z, if i spend all my time hanging around K? I mean really, that's just not alphabetical!!!
Also, does anyone believe in signs? I am really not a religious or mystical person, but sometimes things happen that are so strange... Like a person appearing out of the blue, just when you need them most that I am forced to reexamine my assumptions.
And is it bad to know that someone is right for you, when you don't really know them that well? It's not so much that I am interested in this person, as I know that we would make sense together. I mean I could be interested...but it feels sort of disingenuous to acted interested in a person who I am not that close to. Then again maybe that's how normal people meet their significant others..... I'm sure i'll figure that out, but maybe not until Q. |
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| Letter to U of M |
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| 03:05pm 28/05/2009 |
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mood:  annoyed
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Dear University of Michigan in Ann Arbor,
Why is it so difficult to say how much it costs to attend graduate school, perhaps by credit hour? Why tell me what it costs to take nine credit hours? What if I want to take four credit hours, or twelve? And why do you have to be so expensive anyways?
What is so great about you University of Michigan? Sure you are located in Ann Arbor, but what's so great about that? All there is in Ann Arbor is a bunch of fake hippies....
.... Still that's better than a bunch of fake thugs. So I will pay your exorbitant prices for an education that I could get for half the price at my alma mater. Besides that.... if I don't escape soon, it will be the death of me.
Love,
Julianne
P.S. What exactly is a "cybrarian?" And is it just me or does it sound kind of kinky? |
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| Weird day at the library version 213 |
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| 08:33pm 11/05/2009 |
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mood:  confused
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Today was a really weird day. I mean pretty much every day at the library is weird, but this one was one of those days that make you wonder if it's a full moon. Is it a full moon? Despite my vampiric qualities, I can't recall looking at the moon in the last couple of weeks.
So the weirdest thing by far is that there was meat in the book drop. And not like a half-eaten chicken strip that some drunk threw in there Sunday night, because he thought the book drop was an oddly shaped dumpster. No, it was a container filled with uncooked hamburger meat. Like seriously, what the hell people? Our book drop isn't even very easy to open, so getting this container in there probably took some effort. Is that how they get back at us, because of their DVD fines? Seriously? Luckily, it didn't have maggots or anything yet, though apparently it did pop open.
Then there was this weird elderly gentlemen, who said that the letter carrier accidentally delivered our Time magazine to his house, and he wouldn't charge us for it. He told me that he lives across the street, and almost called 911 because someone who looked like a drug dealer was hanging around outside the library half and hour before we opened this morning. I assured him that it was probably only one of our more interesting Internet patrons...but then I thought I probably should have asked the elderly gent if this "drug dealer" was carrying a container of some sort...perhaps full of meat.
But then we did have to call 911, because some women said she was having shortness of breath...even though she wanted us to print her paper off her flash drive before we called the ambulance, which seemed strange. But I didn't want to be considered a murderer or anything...so we called.
And then that was this one patron who I will simply call Anthony, who didn't do anything that bizarre, but is just annoying enough with his questions about the uncataloged magazines (that's been going on since Friday, because they aren't really catalogued but I'm not allowed to tell HIM that) to put the weird icing on the fucked up day at the library cake.
...But I supposed it's all fodder for the book.
In other news, I cut my hair finally. It's not that much shorter, but less weight makes it a lot curlier. I'm kind of excited as I haven't had a hair cut since long before the economic crash. (Not that those two things are related, but I couldn't think of a popular culture reference as I know absolutely nothing about popular culture these days.) |
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| This is why I need to screen my calls.... |
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| 08:45pm 06/05/2009 |
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mood:  weird
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Last night was one of those nights that I'm going to miss if I ever actually do graduate and find a real job (and become a responsible adult.) I didn't get home until about four, and then I had to spend some time reading this really creepy ghost story that Suzanne suggested to me. Needless to say, I did not wake up very early.
As some of you may know, my friend Heidi recently returned from teaching in South Korea. Anyways, she was supposed to call me around eleven this morning so that we could do something before I had to go to work this afternoon. And since she has only been in the country for about a week, she does not have a phone and would be calling me from one of her parent's cell phones. (I promise there is a point to all this.)
I was awaken from my slumber around 11:20, from a phone number that I did not know. I am sure that you will sympathize with me when I assure you that I thought it was Heidi. I mean....who else would it be? The conversation went something like this :
"Hello?"
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Oh nothing." (surely not wasting a beautiful spring morning catching up on my z's.)
"So guess what?"
"What?"
"I'm pregnant."
(There was at this point a long pause. What?!?!? Heidi? Pregnant?! And anyways...her voice sounded sort of weird, yet I pressed on. Remember, I was very tired.)
"Well I know I broke up with Anthony, but....Anyways, and then this girl was telling me I was pregnant. Like, bitch, I didn't even know that yet."
(At this point, I knew for a fact that this was indeed not my friend Heidi. But what could I do now that this girl had told me her secret news?!?!)
I did the only thing someone could do in this situation....
"Can I call you back later?"
The girl laughed, "Not what you expected for your wake up call, huh?"
Indeed.
Afterwards, when I woke up more, I realized how horrible this all was. Perhaps I should have told her that I was not her friend. I mean like...what the hell is this girl going to think when her real friend calls her? Maybe I could have even said that if she ever needed to talk we could be friends. (lol, I'm only kidding though that is how 2 dollar Jason met his girlfriend.) But seriously, this is worse than the time I pretended to get in a car accident as a joke and then the call was dropped. I deserve the asshole of the year award.
So pregnant chick who recently broke up with Anthony, this apology is going out to you. |
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| Highly personal, yet incredibly vague entry that you need not comment on...unless you want to |
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| 05:36pm 16/04/2009 |
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mood: peaceful
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I don't have a lot of time to write, because I have to head over to Ghost Class in a minute....and I have to make a few stops first ; )....But I am compellled to write. I was reading over some old stuff in certain people's journals, and I realize that I am sooo glad that it's now, instead of then. Wow, and I'm an English major. But seriously, I really am glad. I don't have regrets, because regretting is a waste of my time...and I've already done enough of that for one life time.
Basically, what I mean is... I can finally say that I am happy with life.
Really.
And the winter is almost over, or some other cheesy euphemism.
Next stop?
Eudaimonia!
This is a highly personal entry that I wish I had more time to write, but I don't. Someday soon I will be back to finish it.
Hell, maybe I'll even make a lyric post...to be ironic of course.
But I'm off to Ghost Class, and then more shenanigans I am sure.
Ciao. |
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| update!!! |
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| 04:08pm 21/08/2006 |
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mood:  bored
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Stole this from Stacey...
( My Interests Collage! )
p.s. I realize some of this stuff doesn't make too much sense, like the girl with the cigarettes, and the Asian girl...but I didn't have time to figure out what they were/get rid of them...so just pretend it means something.. |
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| 10:37pm 25/02/2006 |
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mood: nostalgic
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Sometimes I think I'm destroyed.
But at least I finally have a juicer. mmmm...juice.
Maybe it will be spring soon. |
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| Shadow to Substance |
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| 12:32pm 03/11/2005 |
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mood: optimistic
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Shadow to Substance
No use discussing immortality
When just to keep alive is hard enough,
Of course I want to roam in paradise
But it’s a long way there and the road is lost,
In all the time since I met up with you
We never differed in our grief and joy.
In shade we may have parted for a time,
But sunshine always brings us close again.
Still this union cannot last forever—
Together we will vanish into darkness.
The body goes; that fame should also end
Is a thought that makes me burn inside.
Do good and your love will outlive you;
Surely this is worth your every effort.
While it is true, wine may dissolve care
That is not so good a way as this. |
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| Hava Nagila!!!! |
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| 12:51am 27/06/2005 |
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mood: amused music: Ani Difranco- Dialate
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Since Krysta and I are moving soon (next week or something, I should really figure it out...) we did some packing tonight. I was really being ambitious about it last night, planning on packing everything up today except for my notebook and the clothes I would need for the rest of the week. Instead I packed a few books, and my sweaters. (remember this is me, I have a lot of sweaters.) But we got distracted a lot...because you know when you're going through stuff you find all sorts of interesting things-such as the cards that we dumped in the closet after some drunken party, old cards and notes from high school, yearbooks, and a bunch of James shit that I'm very tempted to start a bon fire with. Krysta even gave me her "I ♥ Jesus "pin. I'm considering wearing it everyday and telling people I got it at my first communion, even though I'm not a Catholic...But most interesting of all was my really really old stories, from elementary school.
This story here is sort of long, and slightly disturbing, since I was probably nine or ten when I wrote it. I was trying to write a hard luck story about a girl who only wanted a pumpkin. Krysta thought it was great, and that I should show it to a psychologist to see what they say about me as a child. I really wasn't sick or haunted, I was just trying to be dramatic...anyways don't make fun of me because I'm very sensitive, and leave me comments on whether you think I should finish it...lol. Oh yeah, and I never got to the part about the cursed pumpkin who wanted to be carved up into a jack-o-latern...(maybe he was sadistic....)
( The Halloween Pumpkin )
Okay, that's it for now kids, but believe me there is plenty more where that came from, and it's far more exciting and heart wrenching. The first part had a lot of exposition shit. But just in case you don't think you can stand the suspense until I get around to posting the rest of this, I'll have you know the next chapter is tittled "Murder!" I know, so thriling you can't wait for the end. Too bad, my fingers are cramping. |
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| 04:38am 03/04/2005 |
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I am SO sick of bullshit. |
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| "American Idiot" |
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| 01:31pm 03/11/2004 |
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mood: aggravated music: Green day
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So yeah... Bush won this election without stuffing the ballots this time. That makes me wonder about the intelligence of the American people. And I'm not just saying that to be cool. I have lots of reasons that I hate Bush. And if you are a Republican, and have your reasons to support Bush... call me I want to debate you.
But as many of you are saying, 51% of this country wants Bush as the president. So it's something that I, like many of my more liberal country men, must learn to accept.
At least until I move to France.
However for those of us who are still rather upset by the results of the election go here:
http://www.filmstripinternational.com/ |
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| 02:28am 23/10/2004 |
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mood: calm music: sweet dreams
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I was just looking at my icons.... Syd and I would make a smashing couple.
I went to Royal Oak and Grosse Pointe today. Royal Oak pretty much sucked, but I did have fun reading "Les Fleurs du Mal". I know I sound like a cliche goth kid, but Baudelaire may very well be my new poetry God. Anyways Royal Oak sucked because there was no one interesting about, and I didn't have fifty dollars to spend...
Grosse Pointe was a little better. I did get some of the best Italian Soda ever made. Even though everyone there was a 15 year old mall punk, or a fifty seven year old man with a napsack and a bicycle. Oh well. I didn't almost die while driving today, so that was splendid.
Another strange thing is that every boy between the age of 13 and 18 in Grosse Pointe looks like Bryan... I was disturbed, I thought I saw him everywhere.
After that the lovely Heidi and I drove to Mt. Clemens, and visited Adam for a few hours. Even if we weren't quite philosophical, we caught up and discussed the "sophomore blues." Even if I'm not a sophomore... I don't really know. It got me sort of thinking about things again...and it's good to connect to the past everyonce in a while... remember how things once were...It definatly got me thinking about my life and where I'm going again. I think I finally know what I have to do this time too... and I had more Italian Soda. What a fantastic day. I love you disgrunteled neo-hippy. (I had to write that.)
Tomorrow- waffles! (how do you like your waffles? wink wink) and then dark carnival...and hopefully dancing. ...and maybe I'll even get some new hair. wink wink. Goodnight. |
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| 10:47am 09/10/2004 |
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mood: reflective music: Audioslave
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On the Uses of Philosophy
There is a pleasure in philosophy that every student feels until the necessities of physical existence drag him from the heights of thought into the mart of economic strife and gain.
We strive with the chaos about us and within; but we would believe all the while that there is something vital and significant in us, could we but decipher our own souls. We want to understand.
We want to seize the value and perspective of passing things, and so pull ourselves up out of the maelstrom of daily circumstance.
We want to learn to laugh in the face of the inevitable, to smile even at the looming of death.
"To be a philosopher is not merely to have subtle thoughts, nor even to found a school, but so to love wisdom as to live, according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, magnanimity, and trust."
~Thoreau
"Seek ye first the good things of the mind and the rest will either be supplied or its loss will not be felt."
~Francis Bacon
Every science begins as philosophy and ends as art.
Philosophy is a hypothetical interpretation of the unknown. It is the front trench in the seize of truth. Science is the captured territory.
Philosophy is not content to describe facts; it wishes to ascertain relations to experience in general; to get to meaning and worth.
To observe process and construct means is science; to criticize and coordinate ends is philosophy.
A fact is nothing except in relation to desire; it is incomplete except in relation to a purpose and a whole.
Science without philosophy, facts without perspective, cannot save us from havoc and despair.
~Will Durant |
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| .... |
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| 11:30am 02/09/2004 |
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mood: contemplative music: stp
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I feel sometimes as thought I am falling deeply into despair- for I am lonely and cannot share my thoughts. My dreamy, weak, romantic thoughts…I feel alone… there’s so much beauty in the world, so much opportunity, yet I do absolutely nothing but wait, occasionally looking at art or faraway places in the glossy pages of a book… but they seem farther away at every glance. Is this my life? Is this where destiny has led me? Is this all that life is? Does anyone feel the way I do? Can one separate themselves from present reality, without rebelling completely against is? Does the time come when one must stop riding cautiously along the edge? If you don’t choose something you aren’t a part of anything. Do I seek out sadness or does it come naturally to me?
Sometimes I look at or think about something that is beautiful and I ache. But perhaps it isn’t beautiful, or doesn’t really matter if no one thinks it is beautiful.
All these wasted hours… All this wasted time… on and on and on until it stops. When will there be a new thought or faith… Not new but rediscovered-realized-reborn… Another Renaissance. When will we receive the moon, instead of just the Earth, which we only destroy as fast as we can? How can I be so selfish when I’m healthy, and young, and alive in “safe” America? Why do we ignore everything that is important? When can anything be right?
Three Fish and incense (and cloves) make me feel a bit better. I think I’d be a lot better if I could write. But it’s safe to say waiting for inspiration is a bad idea. But where does one stupid college girl start?
I’d like to be like Darwin and go on a five-year tour of the world and make a great discovery that changes the way we look at everything. I’d like to be like Da Vinci or mythical Hypatia and be a scientist, and a writer, and a philosopher, and a painter, and an inventor. I’d like to study music and art and literature and history and understand math and how things work and why they work and teach and create and study. I’d like to be lost in the ancient world, a Pilgrim for Truth and “the Good”/first cause/God. I’d like to make something beautiful. I’d like to be understood and not be “cute” in all of my pathetic weakness and romance. I’d like to dance. I’d like to think again- to feel again. And not be some stupid, passionless girl doing what I’m told, following a system, and working as some meaningless part of a machine to make money, which in theory I abhor. I want to be interested in issues, ideas, people again. I want to be planning, plotting, and scheming. Feeling connected and completed, by something or someone. I want to fill the hunger that won’t end, or at least try to. But words are only words; it’s actions that matter. I want to stop being only a dreamer and do something… I want to be fearless.
Sometimes I think I’m longing for something to long for. It is called depression when you have lost your zest and passion for things… or is that what it is to be grown up? It’s almost like I’m mellowing out into neutrality… nothing really touches me. Not to say I don’t have emotions… I cry everyday, and laugh the rest of the time… but there is nothing deep enough, long enough, forceful enough. There’s not intensity or passion. I want to dance; I want to be falling in love-even if I’m not completely in love. I want to want something, I want to ache for something, I want to feel pain at the beauty and perfection of something… I want to contemplate… I want to connect mentally/spiritually to someone…and not be desensitized. I’d also like for something to matter beyond its shallow surface value, be beautiful throughout, not because it costs so much but because it’s value is priceless- like faith. I’d like to be listened to with out being patted on the head and “corrected” and being forced to be logical. I’d like to care about something just for the sake of caring about it… not because I’ll benefit socially or economically or because some religion nobody cares about anymore will call me righteous. I’d like to think things matter because they fucking matter. I’d like all my antics to be noticed… not for whatever physical beauty youth might have blessed me with but for my thoughts, my spirit, my soul- whatever the fuck that is. I’d like to stop being frustrated, shot down, lied to and told to assimilate. I’d like to stop burying my real feelings in 21st century bullshit etiquette, and for someone to fucking notice what is important. I’d like clarity. I like feeling this way again…it would appear that I am not dead.
Maybe I should call that daoist guy from last summer… at least he was interesting. Then again what’s the use?
God I love you Scott Weiland… “I am, I am, I said I’m not myself, I’m not dead, and I’m not for sale.” Even if you are a fucking junky. Rock the fuck on. I need communication and self-expression. I’m a bitch.
In fact I love STP
“Are you ever gonna surrender,
Do you even care?
Wasn’t talking about a sweet submission,
Wasn’t even there.”
Fuck that part about the suit, that part sucks.
Sometimes someone can ask you about your state of mind and there are no words, only feelings… that to be understood must be mutual. I don’t care if Psychology tells me I feel things that don’t exist… Freud thinks women want to have a penis. Haha. Anger is a wonderful thing… unlike depression it empowers. Passion is a wonderful thing. |
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| heh heh, this is sweet: |
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| 08:13pm 27/08/2004 |
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mood: amused music: the go-betweens
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I just want some affection
I just want some affection
I don't want no hoochie-coochie mama
no back door woman
no Queen's street sex thing
I want a tiger, a bengianese
with all the kindness of the japanese
I just want some affection
I wish I heard voices
Wish I was a telephone
Karen yeah-yeah, Karen yeah-yeah
Karen yeah-yeah, Karen yeah-yeah yeah
I said yeah, oh Karen!
I know this girl,
this very special girl
She works in a library, yeah
standing there behind the counter
willing to help
with all the problems I encounter
Helps me find Hemingway
Helps me find Rene
Helps me find Brett
Helps me find Chandler
Helps me find James Joyce,
she always makes the right choice
She's no queen,
she's no angel,
just a peasant from the village
She's my god, she's my god
She's my g-o-d, she's my god, yeah, yeah
She's my g-o-o-d, yeah
She's my god now
Oh, she's my god now Yeah!
Karen yeah-yeah, Karen yeah-yeah
F
Karen yeah-yeah, Karen yeah-yeah yeah
I said yeah, oh Karen!
She stands there in the library
like a nun in her church does
like a nun in her church does
She stands there all alone
She gets me something that I
just can't get now anywhere else
cause the girls that I see
walking around, yeah the ones I see
walking on the street
are so damn-da-da-da-damned cold
Cause they must have eskimoe blood in their veins
Yeah the one that I want
I just can't see
I can't see a bear
I can't see anywhere
Alright!
Oh Karen yeah-yeah...
Karen, Karen, Karen, Karen, Karen, Karen!
One day i'll have my own weird Australian rock boy to visit me at the library and write freaky songs about me....One day... |
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| "first day of school, which has nothing to do with coffee..." |
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| 09:38am 25/08/2004 |
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mood: horrified...not really music: people whispering and laughing at me
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I started today off feeling confident, glad to be going back to school. I was in Billy Madison mode even... "I am here to Learn." My first class is a poetry class, I love literature, and I'm excited about learning more about poetry. More poems about syphilis to tell everyone about on Christmas vacation... Joy! I liked the smell of the room, the way it was set up, my grandmotherly prof. and her broomstick skirt that reminded me of the spree I went on at sunshine thrift store buying similar ones in attempts of being more gypsy-like, but never wore again after Shannon and Rachel told me I looked like a "real librarian." There were a couple of friendly girls in my class and even a scraggly blonde haired guy with a hat who kept saying "dude" like a surfer. But it was the girl to my right that tipped me off that something was awry, because she was wearing thick white eyeliner, like Lindsey used to-in 8th grade! I looked around, these kids did look sort of young, especially for a poetry class. There was no way any of them were older than I was. Ah well... that didn't matter because I was going to learn about syphi- I mean poetry.
Then suddenly it was announced- I was in English 1210... hmmm that's weird... I'm supposed to be in 2600... Ah well, no worries. I either read the room wrong-the schedule was a bit confusing- or they made a mistake in the office. No big deal. Grandma went off to the office to ask them about my predicament. I sat down confident.... I'd be learning about syphilis in minutes or less! Grandma comes back... everyone looks at her.
"this is indeed 1210. Your schedule says 8. P.M."
"... ... .... .... .... .... ... ... ... ... ... Oh... ... ... it does say p.m.... .... ... ... ... ... ... ..."
Thirty-one pairs of freshman eyes stare at me. Thirty-one freshman minds are thinking "MORON!" Oh yeah I'm so cool this year... I'll bet this whole semester I'll be sitting in K or at Java Coast and I'll hear snickering. I'll hear them whispering... I'll be at a total disadvantage though because I can't remember what thirty-one people look like. But hey, I'll be popular. I guess I could hide out in the library, but they might have a warrant out for my arrest for not returning that stupid Dante book...
MORON!!!
But the weird thing is I didn't even care. They're just freshmen anyways. Fuckers.
Now I have to take some goddamn history class about the new world explorers because it's the only damn thing open. That's just going to make me want to drop out of school...but I don't get as much money if I'm only part time, so....I guess...
But then something really did piss me off. Pop is now $1.25. Thank you MCC for sucking us poor students even more dry. Thank you so much. It's been many a winter day that I have stayed alive drinking my daily Mt. Dew. Many a broke Thursday that I scraped together a dollar in nickels to get my life-juice... but another quarter? Come on now. That's just wrong. That's more expensive than Speedy Q, and that is bad. All I can say is they just better bring back the caps that have truths about life this November or I'm going to boycott. Those things were pretty hardcore shit.
"mow the lawn"
"get a job"
"be open-minded"
"read your schedule next time"
"fucking MORON!!!" |
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| 10:21pm 06/07/2004 |
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mood: pensive
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To those of you who know me well (and those who don't probably) I know I've been melodramtic lately. And for that I am sorry. Kimberly, I know things are okay now but I just want to make a livejournal post saying I'm sorry again. I am.
My fourth sort of blew. Mr. July turned out to not be very much fun. We sat under the fireworks and it should have been wonderful...but there was nothing romantic or fascinating about it. It made me sad...and I was relieved to get home. He said I was his perfect girl...but he's basing that on my um... appearence... it was sort of like what Kimbersquee might have called "mystic frog" all over again. Only not so much whining...
Tonight Krysta and I finally went and looked at that guy's car. He says he'll sell it to me for 1200 which is pretty sweet...but I'm not completly sure if I'll buy it yet. Although it would be fantastic to have a car...any...car....
After that i was feeling sort of low, because of the near argument i had over insurance with my Mom... but Krysta, being the wonderful if crazy girl she is, let me cry and complain and rant suicidly, and then still cared enough to drive me down to Mt. Clemens so i could buy some chai. Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without that girl...and Chai always makes me happy. We sat down there talking about people we'd forgotten and wondering what had happened to them until it started getting dark and all the lights came on in the trees (that sentence hardly makes sense...) and then we went walking around. We heard this boy singing... so passionate and sad and happy all at once. I don't think I listened to what he was saying, but I listened to his voice...and it expressed everything I've been feeling lately. And suddenly I wasn't alone anymore.... Krysta told me to go talk to him or something...but I just felt like listening. Sometimes mystery is a good thing. |
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jewelianne's journal