Waiting for February....

....while juggling January duties. It's final's month for me and I'm going to the printer's tomorrow for the first booklet, then dart back home to study for my written exams next week and write an essay, a report, an interview (for which I need actual people to interview and I haven't asked anyone yet. Good luck finding someone who lets you watch them perform a body modification when you're not sure you wouldn't puke) and an article as fast as I can. I'm sorry for going into so much detail, but listing things makes me calmer about them. Or more hysteric, depending which time of the day it is. I found out that none of my classmates has really done anything more than I have, and even though you shouldn't measure your success in comparision to others not being more successful, it does help a bit. Fuels the fire (what?).

But through all that, I can see February twinkling at me in bright, hopeful colors! There's so much to do, I get these ideas all the time but keep putting them off until I'm done with all that stuff. Let me get a grasp.

I've been reading a biography about F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda and I'm intruiged and heartbroken (which is probably not a rare effect their story has on people). I went right on to reading about the fabulous yet sad Dorothy Parker, and all that reading about brilliantly creative people who led these rapid, extravagant lives and still lost at happiness no matter how hard they tried makes me want to book into the Plaza and let everybody visit me for Martinis, kiss the wrong man and pour my feelings into a typewriter. However, I prefer to write chipper endings to all the stories concerning myself. Maybe that's why I wasn't born into the Round Table.

What I really want is to figure out my hair, which is not in a good place at the moment, let me tell ya. I just realized, horrified, that it must have been miscut for approximately the last five years now. I'm alarmingly tempted to just grab some scissors and cut it right off. But that sort of behaviour doesn't have the sanest reputation, I hear.

I also postponed getting worked up about finding an internship for the fall - but hey, if you got a cozy, paid creative writing spot for me, hit me up! At a newspaper, not your couch, obviously.

And I need two things desperately: Shopping and dance class. The latter because I feel like my muscles are gradually vanishing, I might have increased my candy consume, and I miss dancing with every fiber of my being, so there's that. And I can't quite remember the last time I really went shopping and I crave new material things intensely. Isn't it almost spring? That's as good as any excuse to be brand new.

Then, when I'm wrapped in fresh clothes, have great hair, stretched fingers, and lots of time on my hands, I'll sit down and write and write and go out at night. It'll be just fantastic.

20 days to go.

Love,

Rosy Smith