My small pack of gummy bears came with a disproportionate amount of Red gummy bears. It’s great. That usually never happens. The Orange ones are usually the majority, and there are probably 5 people in the world who prefer Orange gummy bears.
Why did McGonagall send everyone from Slytherin house away before the final battle? “Oh, hey, your parents are probably Death Eaters even if I have no way to confirm that for each and every one of you. Since you all hate Harry or whatever, please follow Filch to the dungeons. Ktnxbye.” It scraps the “SLYTHERINS ARE PEOPLE TOO” picture Regulus Black and Snape (especially Snape) really tried to put forward. Hey, Slytherins may take their personal stakes in a war more into account than The Greater Good, but it’s unfair to throw all of them in a dungeon just for being sorted (at most SIX YEARS AGO) into the house with a bad rep. At least in the book she gave some of them the option to stay or go.
#popcorn movie adaptation of children’s book over-analysis
In which I attempt to unravel the Irrationally Foul Mood:
I have an erratic migraine.
My mom and aunt think that my migraines are mystically tied to the weather. How sad and poetic. Like, that is a premise for a Murakami short story right there.
I missed school today.
I’m kind of sorry about it.
I mean, I had Histo with my Stone Cold Bitch prof and Theo and NSTP.
Okay, I’m really not that sorry about it.
I am sorry that I used 4 hours of our 9 hours of allowable cuts for NSTP. WOMAN FOR OTHERS!!!!!!!!
I absolutely hate the construction at Araneta-Q Ave. From an hour, it now takes me a whopping two hours to get home from Ateneo.
Which, you know, is super fun. Sitting in jeepneys for two hours is super fun.
Sitting in jeepneys with a shitload of stuff (i.e.: A copy of The Iliad and Php 111.75 worth of readings that can’t fit in my huge-ass bag and a plastic bag with packs of cookies inside, in addition to aforementioned huge-ass bag) is super fun.
Sitting in jeepneys when wet with rain water because I couldn’t get to my umbrella that was conspiratorially at the very bottom of the huge-ass bag fast enough when it started to rain when I was in Philcoa waiting for an illusive Welcome Rotonda jeepney is super fun.
My life is super fun.
Fuck, my head is starting to throb again.
Un-ironically super fun: Reading Ghost World, because as I’ve already mentioned before, I’m a cliche.
“Check your feminist selves out the door.”—Ma’am Martin, my subtly awesome Lit 126.1 prof, giving a roomful of (mostly female, except for 2 guys—and one of them is gay) Lit majors tips on how not to ruin our The Iliad reading experience. Because, as she said, before chic-lit, there was Man Lit.
I applied for Heights, which seems like such a godawful idea now because I have commitment issues and I have to write a 2.5-page paper for my application and options of short stories and poems to close read, and I don’t even have a copy of The Iliad yet and I haven’t even halfed Sambahin ang Katawan for Fil and I have two Histo papers due next week, one of them about another book I haven’t finished, and I don’t really even know what I’m doing telling you about this at 12:54 AM.
But you know, in case you’ll ever get a chance to profile me (for psych purposes—very possible), at any given time I have a lot of crap to plow throw, my natural reaction is pulling my hair out and writing about it on my blog, in run-on sentences no less, to try to make me feel better about my situation.
I’m pretty sure my grammar right now is pretty godawful too, but it’s 12:59 AM and I admit I’m slightly inebriated.
In conclusion, Jonathan Franzen had it right. The Internet is a really huge distraction and I should just emasculate my laptop—remove all it’s Internet-connecting capabilities, I mean. I should, but of course I won’t.