Introduction to Audio and Video Editing. That would be the title of the class that I'm sitting in at the moment. It's a long period day, so we typically sit here for about an hour and a half, wasting time. Giggling and getting shouted at by the teacher for our shenanigans. Or rather, "People in the front row, please be quiet!" I'm sitting in the second row. /shrug.
We have a substitute today. Our instructor is at the hospital, sitting with his wife who just gave birth to his... third child? I believe.
It's cold in here but my face is really hot. I either have a fever again or the emberassment that was my last class is still running its edge off. We had to pull together a script and act out a seven to ten minute long play. The assignment was given to us last week but due to different little things, we had only been able to even discuss our plans together twice. Both times, well. We didn't exactly do much as far as productively speaking.
When it was our turn to go up, I opened, setting up the scenes, etc. "The Solar System that we know now has failed. Earth has died and Saturn is the only remaining planet in our known system that still flourishes with life. Every four years, the queen brings forth a group of select visitors..." It was shoddy and jumbled because my teacher's husband had come in and was starting up his computer as I spoke. The noise was distracting.
We ended up failing horribly. Well, in my eyes, at least. I dropped my accent halfway through, simply because I couldn't stop laughing. Two out of the three guys in my group were literally crying from laughing so hard. Every time I mustered a straight or otherwise in-character expression, it was dashed away by Shaniel's gibberish language. The spoon, too, couldn't fail to bring me into a fit of giggles. I was directing people, pulling them into the scenes with a flash of my eyes or a not-so-subtle wave of my arms.
At least the class enjoyed it.
"Tyrone, I love you!" They embraced. Students literally slid onto the tops of their desks and leaned in to hear better and see if they would kiss.
As poor as our acting was, I suppose I'm proud enough. Mrs. Gage titled me the "Puppet Master" because I was 'pulling the strings of the group.' It was amusing to hear her pull up a very old and long-buried nickname of mine. Nostalgic, almost. Eh~. And again, at least we portrayed what we were supposed to. Some of the groups sort of.. strayed, if you can call a complete miss that much. Amusing, amusing still, they all were~.
We actually thought one of the plays was about a student x teacher relationship, until they clarified at the end that the boy had actually been playing both parts with little distinction between the two.
The class was Theatre, if you haven't picked up on that yet.
Before that, what did I do~? I think I slept through Economics for the same reason that I'm blogging in the middle of Audio-Video. All too caught up with no busy work to toss my way. Hm, and before that was Astronomy. We did station work. The entire chapter is on Telescopes, which inevitably leads to a lot of Galileo this and Galileo that. Some Newton here and there. My point being, I did a project on Galileo the first two weeks of school for the same class. Again, I'm al too caught up.
Is school really this boring when you're actually doing your work? And I thought it was grueling before...
I've been tired lately. Tired all of the time. I partly blame it on my house--there's something about it that makes your eyes heavy. The dim, natural lighting, the cool leather couch... I'm tired just thinking about it. And yet, when I go to my room at night, I'm wide awake but I know that I can't just go back in to flick my computer back on. This morning, I woke up an hour too early. Went back to sleep, then woke at 4:25. Showered and returned to my room, where I slept for another hour or so. Woke at 6:10. Got dressed and laid on the couch, half-asleep for another twenty minutes.
-- Gods -damn- it. Do you know what is tirelessly annoying? When someone texts you. Twice or thrice a day. "Hey" No puncuation, nothing else. No "are you busy?" or anything of the sort. Just. "Hey" Repeatedly. Every day for the past week or more. And I don't even -respond!- Please, please tell me that you would get the hint after a while? Leave me alone, boy! I'm not going to respond. =u= --
I lost my train of thought... Are you ever tired? Tired emotionally, physically? Maybe it's jsut more so as of late because I've been unwell.
Je souhaite que je pourrais parler français. Je peux comprendre, sinon la plupart, quand la lecture de elle et de moi peut indiquer les mots assez bien, mais l'I can' ; t le parlent. It' ; s le plus ou moins même pour l'Espagnol, seulement je peux parler un peu de lui aussi bien que le comprends. Deux ans de valeur des leçons et moi pourraient très probablement seulement vous indiquer un marché ou dire qu'un femme a un mauvais travail de colorant.
Ah, thank you babelfish for that awful translation. (Does it not recognise conjunctions? Apparently so.)
Oh, oh, oh! It is time for an extremely uncharacteristic nerdgasm. Prepare for emoticons and rambling and possibly poor grammar.
Finally! OuO Finallyyy, I have a tablet again. My old one was uber tiny and didn't pick up on the pen tip when I stabbed at it half of the time. Rest its poor soul but be damned, I have a new one! OuO It was cut down to 89$. I was a psycho and paid like... 20$? Speed shipping. So that I could have. Right then and there. So now! Now, now, now, I have to practice--which I plan on doing as soon as I get home ouo--and I will fcking -own- that amasing little piece of machine! And I will pump the best damn commissions that any of you ahve ever seen! And Alanna/Vixen will color them for me and I, I, I--I can't wait! @u@ It's an Adesso Cyber Tablet, Model 7... something or other. It is. So. Pretty. I love it. ouo Lanna gave me a link to download some.. Gimp. Or whatever. Some free program that's supposed to be like Photoshop--because no one really -buys- Photoshop--and gahhh, this means that we can actually work more on our projects now and finally our comic won't seem so distant and. /fizzles.
You know? The funny part of it all is that I don't even -like- to draw that much. I do it and it passes time. It's a way to get my name out and a small source of income, but other than that, I honestly.. Well, I hate it. Not so much that I'm disgusted by the thought of it, but... I think that the reason I enjoy drawing --when I do-- is because it helps me to release some of the things that are birthed in my skull. If I had no way to let some of this clusterfuck out of my brain, I would most likely be even more insane than I already am.
Now, when I say insane, let me define that word a little bit. To me, insane and eccentric, they all mean a different way of thinking, if you get down to the bone of it, right? To me, when I trigger myself with a label like that, I'm noting on the fact that I do not think in what is deemed a "conventional" way. All of us are a little bit wacky, but not all of us are totally insane. And then, of course, there are those people that are quite literally blithering mad and so far lost into their out-of-the-box train that they can no longer be connected with the current. Or mayhap they can and we jsut don't know how to decipher it.
I think it is a stroke of genius to express a feather of madness.
Hamlet, Hamlet, Hamlet~. Do you think that possibly, he could have driven himself to madness while in the act of it? The death of his beloved Ophelia and the murder of Polonius. The fear in his mother's eyes in that scene which has made many coin him with an Oedipus Complex. The battles with those he had called friends and his father's ghost. I think I would have begun to tick a bit strangely at the moment my parent's tormented groans had come to me from below.
I'm reading Grendel by John Gardner. It's one fo those nifty volumes where you get to see from a fresh viewpoint, though you are told the same story. Personally, the shoulder-hacking of the Danes was not quite so much in my area of interest, but this book delves into a different philosophy each chapter. If you'll know anything of me, know that anything having to do with the psyche deeply interests me. Yes, there are points where I cringe but dearest, I am entranced when they mistake him for an oak spirit, his blood for sap. When he roars out his pains and he finds his own beliefs in the Dragon's words. Could you call this a coming-of-age tale? Mayhap, if you tilted your head this way and thus whilst you examined the plot.
" Balance is everything, riding out time like a helmless sheep-boat, keel to hellward, mast upreared to prick out heaven's eye. He he! (Sigh.) My enemies define themselves (as the dragon said) on me. As for myself, I could finish them off in a single night, pull down the great carved beams and crush them in the meadhall, along with their mice, their tankards and potatoes--yet I hold back. I am hardly blind to the absurdity. Form is function. What will we call the Hrothgar-Wrecker when Hrothgar has been wrecked?" Chapter 7.
I love it.
Question of the Day: Should I write book reviews? I move through them so fast and am left with no one to expend my thoughts on afterward...