New classes have begun and I am already banging my head against the keyboard, hoping against hope that my random head trauma will spell out something intelligible. Hey, look at that! It’s like that time I was chatting with somebody, I fell asleep, and coincidentally typed, ‘zzzzzzzzzz.’
I’m taking Filmmaking again, in fact I am on a ten-minute break from that class, a much needed one at that, and I really hope this turns around because I do not want my most interesting class this quarter to be Economics. Which, ironically, seems like its going to be pretty fun.
I had an idea for a short story, as well as a sort of hypochondriac character who may or may not be the MAIN character. Here is a short character bio.
“I had asked her out again, in the typical way, and she asked back what was wrong with me, so I started a mental inventory. I have two left heels. Not two left feet, just two left heels. It doesn’t really make a big difference when I walk, it’s just something that’s wrong with me. My incisors are a little too sharp, and I’m missing one of my wisdom teeth. It never came in. I had the other three removed, as per doctor’s orders, but that fourth just never came, and the dentist is at a loss to explain it. Still missing in action, or as I prefer to see it, AWOL. My cuticles are backwards. I can’t extend or distend my right arm the same as the left. There is a small chip in the bone of my left scapula. I sniff my nose after every three-hundred and forty-second word. I blink unnecessarily. I may have cancer, not one of the major ones, and not anywhere important, so I can’t really complain, but someplace, some time. Cancer. I can’t have pets to save my life, or preferably, to save theirs. I’ve never won a fight, but I’ve never lost an argument. I’m ambidextrous, but a nun in Catholic school beat the left-handedness out of me, so it lies in wait like a sleeping Dragon. I can’t quit a job. I’ve only had one and the fact that I haven’t been able to quit or get fired from it no matter how I tried goes to show that while some people can’t keep a job, I am afflicted otherwise. It just isn’t fair. I’m terribly employable, and it’s going to waste. I’m pretty good with words, having learned most of them, I’m just not good at using them together to form coherent sentences when I verbalize. Also, I flake. But I think what she was really referring to was the fact that I’m not good with women.”
This is based on a dear friend of mine, whom happily, is far away from me right now.