So I love Regina Spektor TOO MUCH. She's too cute. And her music rocks, obviously.
Piano! I love it.
So, my internet has been quite finicky. Fucking finicky internets! Not good. So I go to school and run to the public computers with this feeling of absolute ecstasy because I can gaze upon the beauty of THE WORLD WIDE WEB once more! And also check MySpace. It's important.
Musics! Muzak. OMG why does Firefox not underline MUZAK as being spelled incorrectly? WTF?
I just watched the Britney video. Awww! Depression.
My toe hurts.
I need that Juicy Couture!
Haute couture? (high fashion, yo yo yo)
I like the word "couture."
You and your dubious tastes. Bitch.
So I think I finally want to go to New Zealand. I can't go when I want to go, sadly, but I'll make sure to plan on it. Pencil it in, you know.
I wrote an essay in 15-20 minutes, and I got a B-. Why? I don't proofread! I had time to make sure it was perfect, too. I do this so much. I miss little details, and those little details keep me from my A's.
I wish I had the patience to check my things, especially my math. I have been missing negative signs lately. I don't know why. I've never done that one before.
I feel much less sick than I have been the past couple of days.
OH MY JOY!
I am currently reading three books. The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov, Notes from Underground by my most beloved Dostoevsky, and White Oleander by Janet Fitch.
The Master and Margarita, so far, is pretty SUH WEET, but I am not sure I trust the particular translation I have. I compared it to two others, but something about it irks me. Because I plan to really buckle down and speak as-close-to-perfect-as-I-can-possibly-get Russian (and read), I'll just read it in Russian. In fact, I'll learn Russian just to read it in Russian. Because I like Russian anyway. And those Russians. I love their works, so why shouldn't I read them in their original versions? Exactly.
Notes from Underground is rocking like mad. I love it. I love most of Dostoevsky's work anyway though. I am biased! Anyway, it is good. That is the point I am trying to make. Love.
White Oleander is pretty iffy for me. I like it, and I dislike it. It goes in a lot of different directions. There are too many things happening in such an order. It just yo-yo's between good and bad over and over again. Too obvious if you ask me. It is much too girl like for me; I think. I am not positive. I just know that I don't typically like extremely feminine subjects. I don't think the book is intended to be quite as female as it is. It is too obvious that a woman wrote it is what I mean, and that bothers me. I dislike women who constantly play into feminine stereotypes, and that's exactly what Janet Fitch has done. She has even made the characters in this book fit them all too well. It's obvious that a few aren't really supposed to be interpreted that way, but there is no other way to see them. I probably shouldn't put any of this into a blog. Now every asshole who reads it is going to think I hate women, put women down, etc. Perhaps that rant is for the other blog! (The rant about how completely stupid people are. Oy oy oy!)
I think I should start reading books in French. My French is dying, and I hate to feel it. I hate to see or hear something in French, know it is French but only be able to understand a small part of it. Bothersome! I should start writing in French again as well. Perhaps that would help. We'll see.
P.S. I really love random tags.