Aren’t These Words Pretty?

Fulmination(s).   My favorite word ever.   It just sounds cool, or something.  Archaic.  It has 2 differing meanings.  The first, is to explode with a loud noise (although it seems odd that something could explode with a quiet noise).  Brings to mind lightning.   Which is a nice image.

 The second, is “to issue denunciations against”.   I prefer this meaning.   I mean this is the context that I usually use it in.   I will forever fulminate against Miranda Kerr.  Always and forever!

Quotidian:  I overuse this one on a daily basis.  It’s fun, though. 

Astral:   Conjures up the stars, galaxies, and myriad other extra-terrestrial specialness. 

Paradisiacal.    It is a wonderful ‘tongue’ word.   Say it aloud.

Redolent.   I always think of Night-Blooming Jasmine.  

Fluorescence.   Don’t know why I like this one; I just do.

I really wish wordpress had better layou…

I really wish wordpress had better layouts…

I Missed The Blue

I should stop changing the blog layout.   Does that make me look schizo?   I think I’m tired of blahgging.  And tired of the nets in general.   I was gonna post my thingy on Tiberius, but it didn’t get finished and I’m too tired to finish it as of now.  Besides even if I stay up all night (which I’m usually game to do as I love burning the midnight oil), no one will probably ever care about Tiberius.    Which is a damn shame because he’s sort of fascinating in a dreadphul way.

I think I want to post more historical stuff and less personal stuff.  I really don’t know who’s lurking out there and reading this stuff.  I ephing hope Professor Hawt ain’t reading this shit, otherwise I am in for a world of embarrassment when I start classes.   I refuse to think about that.  HOWEVER, Professor Hawt, if you are reading this, why not leave an ephing comment inviting me into your life, soul and bedroom?  

As you can see, I’m tired and I should just shut up.     

Oh — my point was this:  Since I want to write more historical stuff, please let me know if there’s any classical history stuff you’re interested in hearing about.  I need to start getting into research mode so I will only be pleased as punch to do it.

One more thing:   I would like to apologize to you guys for being a whiny, snitty bastardess the past few posts or so.  I was just thinking that I must come across as awphul.  I’m actually the sweetest person that ever walked the Earth.   

Cheers, and have a good day.  

No.

So I was fooling around on facebook.   Ugh!  No!  Some of the b!tches I loathed in college are now in attendance at the grad school I’m enrolled in.  Jiminy Phuckmas!!!!  Can I ever just go someplace and not be phollowed by dipshitters?!   This is my phucking hometown, get thee phuck away from meeeeeee.  Phirst Prophessor hot and now U!!! See, he has groupies!  That’s why I didn’t ephing want to go here!  But no, the economy had to freaking collpase and thus inhibit my prospects for relocation back to Los Angeles (the place I love more than any place in the world). 

I’m not smart!  If I was smart I’d have figured out a way to stop running into people I can’t stand.  I really hate to spout off about academics and such because I know a good many people who find it untenable, whiny.   Sorry!  For all my seeming privilege, I’m just a stupid lady with confidence problems who always feels like she is playing catch up with people who were tutored and coddled and had parents who had a GD plan for their future (via college fund).  Not Anners!  Anners doesn’t speak German or know Greek or all that much Latin (plus, it makes her head huuuuuuurt).  Sometimes being asked harmless questions like:  “Anners, what did you think about this article?” make her i.e., MEEEE, want to shrivel up like a raisin and disappear.  The brain is awkward.  It tells Anners that she is either divine or detestable.  Beautiful or Phugleee.  Stupid or brilliant.  There is no in-between.  Anners is PHUCKED for life.  You heard it here first.  Because none of this (the facebook schit) should be getting under her skin in this manner.   It’s the simple fact that Anners feels like she doesn’t belong at the table and that come January every professor in the History Department will tell her this.  ”Maybe we made a mistake….”  because she didn’t spend the last three summers digging in Pompei (like the phacebook whoors).   She’s BROKE and will perhaps NEVER travel anywhere.  She’s also really dumb and needs to see a head shrinker because she’s writing about herself in the third-person again.

She wants a big bottle of wine.   Bathtub.  Marat.

My Writing Sample Phucking Sucks

… If I get into this grad school program it will be by the grace of God.

Jennifer Ackles!

Where did yer blog go?  I was just in the middle of making a comment when it went “poof”‘!

Phuckity phuck phuck phuck

I am so sorry if you’re finding me to be a whiny, needy bastardess. 

I can’t help it. 

Okay, I can help it, but I just don’t want to.

I don’t need to be coddled or anything.  Just ignore me, the re-re factor will go away.  Maybe I’ll go away, too.

God, do you exist or not?!  Damn, things are ugly right now.  And thank you very much for making me deathly ill when Morgan was in town. 

I need to go on a writer’s retreat.  Or to wrestle with myself in solitude for 2 weeks.  Really, I need to be alone.  I used to like being alone.  That stopped.  Now I want to be alone again, but it’s quite impossible.

I may go visit my ex-boyfriend in Arizona.  I’ll at least have his place to myself while he’s at work.    

Nothing is going right in my life at this point in time.

I’m selfish and territorial.  Have to love that. 

Air makes beautiful music.  I’m listening to it right now, and I wish I could drift away on one of their songs.  Drift away forever. 

La la la la…