December 2011
November 2011
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stand up, turn my desk over, and walk out of the room
My professor is explaining that part of our final paper requirement is that every time we use a quote or paraphrase something, we need to print out a copy of the source and highlight the section we quoted/paraphrased.
This is a 12+ page paper.
I cannot fully or legally explain my reaction to this.
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yes.
yes, I did.
apparently I lost my mind and didn’t write down my tech week as a conflict.
what.
I don’t need important emails immediately when they’re sent. Six hours later is fine.
Oh no wait I’m going to kill you and cry hysterically at the same time.
is tech week.
is the first week of rehearsal.
is the week my first final is due.
is the week I have my last performance before juries.
is the week the show I’ve been working on for almost a year opens and closes.
is the week my first show is getting reviewed.
is the week I have to write two fifteen page papers.
is the week going to work will actually stop me from being crazy. even though it’s retail.
And this is the story of how I died.

Ugh, I hate it when people say “Fuck the police”.
Don’t just fuck the police.
Take the police out on a couple dates. Take the police to the movies or a nice stroll in the park. Feed the police some delicious fondue. Make the police fall in love with you. Then, fuck the police. And then out of nowhere, stop taking calls from the police. Ignore the police. Make the police miss you. Make the police cry.
Take the police out for a nice seafood dinner and never call them again.
I need to remember not to open my beer bottle with my teeth when I get to my aunt’s house.
That would be awkward.
