godream

Technically I could easily get away without doing any homework tonight, 'cause I'm spending all of tomorrow at the technology fair in front of the library. I feel obliged to, nonetheless. As in, I'll feel guilty when I don't. Instead, I'm stalking people via their AIM away messages (just when you thought it was safe to post your screen name... mua ha ha ha) and criticizing the school newspaper. ( VIII pages? What's with that? )

Um. Where was I? I distinctly remember having thoughts so deep my head echoed while on the bus today, and also while reshelving, but they're gone now.

If you haven't seen this yet, you should. Especially if you're less than enthused with this whole Valentine business. Or even if you are. viralmarketingblog.com is almost entirely unrelated, but pretty cool nonetheless. And not nearly as slimy as the URL might make it sound.

My record is 305.7. You really don't want to know how long it took me. Hand-eye coordination is not one of my strong points.

Come on, I dare you. (Just in case anyone in the world hasn't seen this yet.)

Or rather question of yesterday, except I was too tired to type it last night.

Say I walk up to you and say, "You know, it's been a rough day and I'm actually not all that sure if I really did wake up today. Would you do me a favor and prove I'm not dreaming?" After you get off the phone with the nice men in the white coats, while you're trying to persuade me to stay here till they come get me, how would you prove it?

And, um, for those of you who may have had your hopes up, I didn't intend this to be absurdly philosophical. I'm taking it as read that I didn't dream yesterday and the day before, that I am not a butterfly dreaming I am a (wo)man, and I'm not looking for "I think therefore I am", as neat a thought as that is. Nope, far more boring that that.

My thoughts went something like ( this. )

In other news, I can't believe they cut Scooter Girl from American Idol. *sobs* Most addictive show ever -- I've seen all of two episodes and I'm pretty sure I can't stop. I think it's because of the huge mind trip they've got all of the US on, where we stare at the screen and think "I could do that WAY better", and then we keep watching the show because of that lure of "It could be me" or even "It should be me". We keep watching it because it's such an accessible fantasy, because it's so easy for us to imagine ourselves in that role. ... Er, and everywhere I say "we" I probably mean "me."

( And on that note... )
...Ha ha, 'note'. I need sleep now. Good night!

While reshelving today, I caught sight of the childrens' book Nightgown of the Sullen Moon -- I didn't get a chance to read it, since I was working, but I did flip through it. It seemed just as interesting and strange as the title would lead one to suspect. The real reason it caught my eye, though, is that there's a They Might Be Giants song of the same name, which I'd heard was named after a kiddie book. (The song actually comes up more than the book in a casual google search...) So it was pretty neat to see the inspiration for that.

In other news, someone (probably my mother) has got my school e-mail in their address book and whatever that new virus is. "Partial message available". Ha.

I made an exception.

( My goodness, someone thinks they're clever. )

I found my little stepbrother's LJ account. (Not that it was a challenge, as he & my little sister had exchanged friendings. Aw, I feel so left out.) He'll probably be annoyed. Oh well.

I think I listed this journal as my personal webpage for whichever one of the colleges it was that asked. I've been meaning to friends-lock those entries which I really don't want to represent me in The College Admissions Process (the mention of which demands extra capitalization), but that duck and hide instinct is warring with the somewhat insane desire to stand up and shout: Hey you, Mister Admissions Officer! (Or Ms.) This is me, this is who I am, this is what I feel and what I do and the things that I devote time to thinking and writing about. If you really want more than a set of numbers and another boring essay, here it is. Here's me, chin lifted high enough that you can't tell if I'm baring my throat or showing my pride, or both. Here's the good, the bright sometimes almost kind of poet, the friend, the sister; here's the bad, the lazy days and the worries and paranoia and self-centeredness, the first drafts and the obsessive editing of entries in a vain attempt to say exactly what I mean (no, wait, don't run, I'm not as crazy as that last sentence made me sound). Here's all of me presented for your perusal in easy-to-digest diary form: take it or leave it, all of it, together.

If you play/played Animal Crossing, you'll probably find this amusing. (Or maybe you've seen it before, as it's relatively old.)

From the first entry:

"At approximately 10:00pm September 17th, I left the big city and began to melt into the countryside. On the train to Adamsvil, I met a simple cat named Rover. Already I am suspicious... a cat with a dog's name? When I reveal that I have no place to live, he slips to the back of the car and calls a "friend" of his named Tom Nook. Sounds like a scam, and when I meet Tom, I figure out why. My new crib costs 18,000 Bells, and Nook expects me to work for him to pay it off.

"Nook sets me up with all sorts of stupid jobs, most of which require running back and forth across town delivering things. In between errands, I introduce myself to the other townsfolk. I let them do all the talking so they'll like me and not ask too many personal questions. ... To keep up appearances, I even visited the Police Station. The patrol officer seems sharp, but the desk clerk inside is a fool. I cleaned out his Lost and Found box. I've also travelled to a small island to the south, Dred Island. There's an abandoned shack there I plan to use as a safehouse, in case I need to hide out again.

"...At about midnight, old Nook calls me in and tells me he has no more work for me. So I figure, this is it, only one of us is getting out of here alive... but he laughs and says he's willing to buy stuff from me now. I briefly consider clubbing him and heading to Dred Island with that Space Shuttle model he has in the back, but then I consider the value of my seashell collection..."

Godream in Officer Under

In this heart-stopping travesty, godream (Michelle Williams) is a naïve hitman with a terrible past. She must eliminate amoretti (Ashley Olsen) before the vile faerie16 (Katie Holmes) kidnaps her. Imagining that this plight is reversible, she attempts a break-in at the haunted submarine. The hi-jinks that follow are well worth watching.

Produced by ianiceboy

godream's Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level: 7
Average number of words per sentence:	15.65
Average number of syllables per word:	1.43
Total words in sample:	2785
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Another fun meme brought to you by rfreebern

And you should all go fill out the Pizza Arbiter thingie, too. :)

So I went downstairs at ten thirty this evening. (Yesterday evening, technically, I guess.) Several of my siblings were scattered around the kitchen, consuming another gallon of ice cream. I did my by-now-customary whining about applications routine, this time focusing on the pain of the gazillion Brown essays. And, of course, in another vain hope of making myself feel better, I ask Squall if he's done with all of his essays. "Yeah, I wrote both of them already," he says.

"Both?" I screech.

"Yeah... how many do you have?"

I can't even count them anymore. But I'm proud to say that every last one is in. OK, I haven't sent all the application fees yet, but half of them don't do credit cards online so I'll just send checks tomorrow. Hey, with the size of the tuitions, they should be able to afford to wait for my measly sixty bucks.

D'you wanna read my real essays? I'm not nearly as proud of any of them as I am of my meta-essay, which I WILL keep bringing up till someone comments on it, but maybe I'll post them anyways.

This is an intriguing and creative opening sentence. It hooks you from the beginning, piqueing your interest in both the essay and in myself as a prospective student. This paragraph goes on to describe a specific event tied into one of the many unique interests I feel passionately about. Here, I relate how I played a central role in either losing or winning some significant event in the field I am discussing. (Either that, or I discuss the death of a family member, but even I have the taste not to mock that, much.) I begin in medias res and use only active sentences, helping to engage you, the reader, in the occurence.

In this second paragraph, I tell you how this event affected the team with whom I have worked closely with toward the goal we either met or failed to meet in the first paragraph. I explain how I demonstrated leadership of my peers, but balance this with modest assertions of how I couldn't have done it without the group. I relate briefly how hard we had all worked toward this moment, and express our joy in either triumphing or having done our best.

Next, I discuss how this event affected me. In exciting and/or heartfelt sentences, I tell you how much it meant to me and how great its influence has been. I mention my family's support, love, and care. I may throw in a simile or two like spices to liven up the writing, but not so many as to waste my precious word count. Perhaps I even admit to a little self-doubt, so that you realize I am truly a down-to-earth and realistic person, in spite of my many extraordinary aspects. Finally, I tell you how having experienced this has changed my view of life and the way I choose to live. With simple, eloquent language, I provide the moral to my story and leave you deeply moved by my words.

In this concluding paragraph, I wrap up the topic at hand. I mention quickly all the points previously set out, in case the board of reviewers is only reading the last paragraph to save time and because it's good structure to do this anyways. I recant the ideas that have made you feel that I am intelligent, kind, moral, and deserving of heaps of superlative adjectives as well as a letter of admission to your school. My second to last sentence neatly sums up everything presented so far in this essay and expresses a hope for the future. And now that you are off your guard, my last sentence adds a twist and a new perspective on the content that leaves this essay and the student it represents stuck firmly in your mind, hopefully setting me apart from the many bland and identical applicants and ensuring my swift acceptance to the college of my choice.



...The sad thing is how much I wish I had the nerve to actually send this (it's the right word count for the common app...), and how much time I spent composing it instead of writing real essays.

If you found this at all amusing, you might want to go read This is the Title of the Lunch Message, Which Appears Several Times Within the Lunch Message Itself, which is much funnier than this. You'll have to scroll down a bit, it's worth it.