A Double Edged Sword

Sunday 6 April

As the Best Weekend Ever for Nerdkind draws to a close, I'm finding mild regret over my life choices (hey guess who's got a presentation to do by tomorrow morning) and yet simultaneously not giving any fucks because life is awesome and confusing and hella rad!

I woke up and got moving this morning, researching the role of women in Elizabethan and Stuart England, and then slowly getting derailed by Tumblr, the indie band The Limousines, and the Voynich manuscript, because yeah I have priorities and an endless curiosity. Sue me if you dare.

Then I took the bus in the midst of an April Shower (WTF) to the library to meet with my Shakespeare Conference Group, which was really just me and this other slightly academically motivated kid that loves Game of Thrones too (seriously I find these people everywhere without even meaning to fuck yeah), so that was fun. We made a Plan, which was good and will probably prevent us from failing miserably.

Then I took a nice walk home where I listened to my skiing playlist and thought about my life and my choices and the universe and that was really quite nice. I love walking. I love stealing some time from this universe that doesn't give me anything. Whenever I get stressed, I walk. It's nice. It's relaxing, just to get the blood flowing and to be alone with my thoughts, toxic as they can occasionally be. It helps you work out the poison.

After talking to my roomies about my sexual frustrations (just UGH it makes me want to violently write up a case brief to kill those stupid pesky things called feelings), I took a nap and woke up to see Man of Steel was on HBO, so of course I watched that because of Reasons (Reasons meaning Henry-"The Hot Duke of Suffolk"-Cavill because DAMN). I made some pesto pasta (the sauce of which failed to emulsify this time which was also VERY UNFORTUNATE UGH) and finished that off and failed to contain the ridiculous excitement regarding Game of Thrones.

"Two Swords" was good (NOOO ICE NOOO but whatever). A bit much on the exposition, since I feel like literally everyone is still reeling over Red Wedding, which happens in the books too. Arya/The Hound are a nice outlaw-slaughtering group and she's my favorite traumatized psychopath and yay. The Shae/Tyrion drama sounds like a damn sitcom plus murder, Jaime/Brienne really need a buddy cop  film, Cersei's throwing shade everywhere (was she drunk? OBVIOUSLY) but I still love the crazy bitch, Dany's got a crush (not Ser Jorah "Friendzone" Mormont), JON SNOW'S HAIR RECLAIMS ITS BEST-HAIR TITLE YES, and we didn't get to hear about Yara Greyjoy's crazy Viking mission to Save Theon:

Actual Photo of the Recommissioned Iron Islands Campaign (it used to say Euron)

Anyway. THEN like five minutes in, OBERYN MARTELL PRINCE OF DORNE SHOWS UP TO TAKE NAMES, HAVE SEX WITH EVERYTHING THAT MOVES, AND KICK ASS, and he's almost done with the first two! But seriously just This Guy:

Me As Varys Slyly Eyeing This Gift of a Man

This is going to be a great season I can tell.

Anyway. Sorry for all the fangirling. It happens. More than I'm proud to admit, but whatever.

Okay. Well. I've got to get moving on this Research Presentation. I've already rage-briefed a case, and I'm almost ready to go the fuck to sleep (lol that's funny).

I must reiterate that I am absolutely terrified of being the president and having someone like Superman come along and fuck up a city like Metropolis because REALLY DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH FUKKIN PROPERTY DAMAGE THAT FINE HUNK OF MAN HAS CAUSED? MY GOD YOU CAN'T PAY FOR THIS ON A REPORTER'S SALARY. How they get past that one is astounding to me.

I don't know. Like I said, it's hard to write frankly and honestly when I'm happy. I'm not sure why. My writing didn't get good until my younger and more vulnerable years were shattered with a swift blow from the stock market, and then that got more intense with another blow from my pesky emotions or whatever, and now I'm here having lived through all of it almost getting it kind of together, and for the first time in forever, I'm actually succeeding, and I don't know what to do about that.

Maybe that's what my homegirl Cersei meant when she told Sansa that "None of us get the things we want," because even if we do get the things we want, it never lasts, and we'll find something else to want, and maybe that'll be the thing that's out of reach. The Millennial in me thinks that it's our right and indeed, our duty to expect nothing other than what we want out of this world. But I'm also a large part Lost Generation and I know that that's a bit foolish and naive of me, because maybe there's absolutely nothing at all out there. The white whale exists at least, and he always lurks to usurp what we think we know.

But I still think it's beautiful that we cling to ideals. We cling to harmless untruths, the foma, that make us brave and kind and healthy and happy, to quote Vonnegut, and I think that's important. Maybe the white whale will come and capsize the proverbial Pequod of life. But we still need to figure out how to swim again if we're ever going to live to tell the tale. We can't become obsessed with the whale, else we'll be destroyed. We can only go along for the ride.

So yeah. After that tidbit, I'm going to listen to Frozen and Auturo Marquez and pretend to do some work. Yeah weekends!

Thanks for reading :)