The Nation of Procrasti

I'm procrastinating a ton of really boring reading by posting this. If you are my Western Religious Traditions professor... LOOK AWAY!

To everyone else, hello! I like you.

Today was a much better day than yesterday, thankfully. A lot of stuff worked out that had gone horribly awry yesterday, and I got to talk to my family for a while. My mom is out of the hospital (she went in yesterday for appendicitis), and I'm getting my car fixed after the accident I got into yesterday (told you it was a bad day). I'm even okay with spending the majority of my day in the library doing homework. I took a solid break to read Will Grayson Will Grayson (which finally came in the mail! Hurrah!)
I spent some time laying in the grass with my best friend, drinking mango Jamba Juice. I had a couple of good talks with professors, connected with William Faulkner, and drank my fair share of coffee. The sun was shining, people were extremely kind and today I just felt loved. It felt really nice.

Sooner or later, I'll come up with a theme for this blog--something more than just my ramblings, hopefully. But until then, thanks for reading and responding. Maybe during BEDA I'll figure some sort of motif through all of this. I commend you greatly for sticking with me.

Miles

Botany

So after a horrible day that I'm trying to put behind me, I'd like to pose a question to you: you wonderful, BEDA audience.

What the hell is this tree?


I'm working on a novel involving trees, so I tend to get addicted to them. I think I want to use this tree at some point, so it would help to know what kind of tree it was.

I'm still trying to find my favorite (tree that is). Do you have a favorite? Is it an absurd question for me to ask? What is your most absurd favorite type of thing? Like plastic, or unrealistic fear?

I want to know. I love to know. People's thoughts always, somehow make me happy.

Hope your day was better than mine. I hope all of your days are wonderful, I really do.

Spontaneous Overflow of Powerful Emotions

The Romantics were the first of the emo poets. Keats is like one giant emo concert if put to an acoustic guitar or screamo lyrics. Coleridge is the poster child for messed up lifestyles, for profound thinking while drugged up. Byron is a sexed up hipster with too much time on his hands. And Shelley, Shelley is just sad a lot.

But what happened to melancholy? These writers inspired so much, finally made depression an okay feeling. Hell, they made depression a desirable emotion. So why do we shy away from it so much today?

Emo is a bad thing. Okay, I'll grant you--any word that starts off as an abrev is probably a mistake (pun intended), but why is it bad? Is it because most of the time it's expressed by sweaty, over hormone-pumped teens writing bad poetry? Is it because we see sadness as a weakness? Is it because in our modern society we refuse to accept anything other than happiness because it means getting messy?

When are we justified in sadness: broken love? physical pain? death? Is there a point when we should say "yeah, ok, you are allowed to feel sad about this?" Should that be our job? Are we giving standards where standards are not needed? Why are we not allowed to be sorrowful some of the time, but it's justified other times?

What happened to the desired melancholy of the Romantics? What have we become since then? And are we any better for it?

Told you this might get emo.

Miles

Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Wood

This weekend has been an odd sort of convergence pathways in my life. Like any soon-to-graduate college student, I find the stress of planning a life post-college spiraling out of control. I've got about fifty different choices, all of them picking and choosing from one another, fighting like chickens in a coop for the most attention.

I can go to to grad school, get a doctorate in English Lit, and teach undergrad.
I can run away to England, get a job as a barista and write all day until I publish my novel.
I can take a year off and intern for a while.
I can go to seminary and start a small church; one that finally has all that I want.
I can search my entire campus for a man, marry him within a year and guarantee financial security.
I can move to New York City, work in publishing and be a successful business woman.

A plethora of options, I know, and don't get me wrong, I'm extremely grateful to have so many, extremely grateful (I know what it has taken to get me here), but I just don't know what to do. My passion is writing, but the novels I want to write may take a while. And is that really what I'm supposed to do? Every option I fear will spiral out of control into a dead end job, a midlife crisis and a life I never wanted to live. I feel as though my life is not in my control, not something I can fashion to fit me.

How do I make this happen?

A Question of Integrity

I woke up late,
ate breakfast,
wrote
and edited.

Oh, and I made this.



While in England we reenacted the Cobb scene from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.

So, the day hasn't been a total bust, and I do feel accomplished, but all day I've found myself questioning authorial integrity. I'm working on a young adult novella, following the life of a girl who must watch the destruction of her best friend. The problem however is that it is sort of based on real life. The characters feel pretty darn real because they are real. The situation is real, the pain is real (if re-written). So how much should I change? And how much can I keep?

Where is the line between fiction and reality? And who will I hurt if I walk it?

Weekly Internet Vomit #6 - Wait, You Tattooed What?

The internet was a place created to connect a plethora of different peoples in a new and simple way. It was created to be a place to share knowledge, and to learn new skills, facts and information. And then society took it. And society killed it.

So, we've all made mistakes. Sometimes we go out a little too long, and wind up waking in a pile of our own vomit. Sometimes we think that streaking through the McDonald's parking lot at 2 AM is a good idea (I don't know from experience, I swear). And sometimes we get really stupid tattoos.

If you haven't been to www.ugliesttattoos.com yet in your life then you are missing out, my friend. Countless hours of wasted time, and repetition of the phrase "Oh, sweet goodness, WHY?!"

So, what are some of my favorite $500 dollar mistakes?



Wait, what happened here? Oh, I got it. This person wanted to make a tribute to Will Smith's two best movies: Wild, Wild West and Men in Black. Solid artwork friend.



You know what's great? Pooh characters.
You know what's better? Eeyore on your ASS.

And finally, the greatest tattoo in the history of all tattoos. The motherload of important things to tattoo on self.

DAUGHTER.
COUNTRY.
STAR WARS.



I have no words. This man's back says it all.

Don't forget, the internet is like any magical place; there are often inappropriate things just at the corners of the imagination.

If you've got any vomitous suggestions, leave them in the comments!

Miles

BEDA

So. I have five minutes to write this post before it becomes midnight, and I officially miss my first day of BEDA. Oh dear.

Some notes about my future BEDA entries, if this is any indication. (4 minutes!)
1) They might sometimes be a little short. Because, well, some days I'm just not feeling profound.
2) (3 minutes!) They might be a tad emo. Some days I think profundity means being emo. On these days, it might be best to just ignore me.
3) (2 Minutes!) They might not make any sense. This being a solid example.
4) I'm not a blogger by nature. What the hell do I write here?
5) And finally, this is a giant experiment. Sometimes I'll put stupid clips of things (1 minute!)
And sometimes I'll just rant. Who knows. I hope you join me on this crazy ride. I love you all, no matter what!

Miles