So, I’ve changed shirts three times in order to wander around UEA and register and stuff. Settled on my Sherlock shirt for obvious reasons.
I’m, uh, not nervous at all. Changing shirts three times was completely necessary. Don’t be silly.
Also, I found a little cactus outside of my new bedroom window, so I climbed out and retrieved him. Not sure what I should name him yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something.
Yeah, I should probably leave my flat. Or I could sit here for a while and just do nothing. That’s an appealing thought.
hi guys, what’s up with you? I’m just chillin’ out over here, being casual, you know. Nothing major.
I don’t think Texas is ever going to be not-weird to me.
Texas is bizarre and it’s hot and I need to buy cigarettes but I don’t want to walk in the hot because it is the hot.
And my brother has abandoned me and I’m hungry
and this is my dad’s house, so there is no food
I can’t even make a condiment sandwich
and I don’t have a phone here
also, I have a kukri and three guns within arm’s reach right now.
so now I’m pretending to be a pirate
/fearless badass warrior
Dotty and Bowie are impartial to my antics.
Dotty started yawning as soon as I whipped out my iPod for photos. She is not impressed by my firepower, or the fact that I was playing with a kukri on a waterbed.
Felt like organising everything from my bag neatly.
Featured: Prose Notebook, Screenwriting Notebook, an article from the Guardian that I use when I have writer’s block, some children’s books, a Stitch coinpurse, a weird thing that I got from the Olympic Torch passing through our town the other day, loads of perfume and the little blue book is my copy of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
Oh, also, T.S. Eliot.
And that big stack of paper in the corner is Volunteer Hours. I accidentally printed the entire document, so now I have a 53 page hardcopy to scribble all over. Huh.
dissertation marks & new haircut (warning: this post is half ranting / half self-indulgent photos)
So, I got my dissertation mark back, and it was marked by my second-least-favourite creative writing professor. I recognised her handwriting.
Let me get this straight - I’m not unhappy with a B+. B+s are cool. I’m unhappy with her stupid goddamn comments.
“The commentary and synopsis present a story which is an intriguing development of a familiar formula, exploring feminist issues in a historical context through the relationship between a time-shifted young woman and a feminist campaigner. […] Unfortunately, neither the relationship nor the feminist issues make an appearance in this. What we are left with is a well crafted but conventional genre exercise.”
THIS IS NOT A PLAY
I CANNOT SKIP AROUND
THEY TOLD ME TO WRITE THE FIRST 30 PAGES OF A FEATURE LENGTH FILM, SO I DID
I CAN’T BE LIKE “HERE’S SCENES 1 THROUGH 5, NOW ACT TWO WITH SCENES 2 THROUGH 4, NOW ACT THREE WITH SKDLJFSDKJFL” - A SCREENPLAY IS A FLUID DOCUMENT. YOU DON’T NUMBER YOUR SCENES OR ACTS. EVER.
IF I SUDDENLY THREW MY SCREENPLAY TO THE VERY END AND TOSSED IN A COUPLE OF LESBIAN SCENES (AND TRUST ME, I WANTED TO), SHE WOULD BE ALL “OH NO WHY IS THIS DISJOINTED WHAT IS HAPPENING I DON’T UNDERSTAND???”
“Such a shame you did not choose scenes which expressed the essence of your project. I’m sure they would have been as well written as those which you provide, but one can only mark what one is given.”
Goddamn creative writing professors. :/ If that was genuinely the only thing they could find wrong with my project (they didn’t comment on anything else), I would like to punch them in the face.
I shake my fist at you, madam.
ANYWAY, in lighter news - I got a haircut yesterday. :D!
I look less like a disheveled, sleep-deprived student and more like an actual person.
Oh, and what’s that? Is that my special creative writing necklace that I wear whenever I write creatively?
I’m throwing myself back at Volunteer Hours today. :D Let’s see what happens. <3
and a non-shitty photo so that I don’t feel awful about my chipmunk face when I check tumblr in the morning and wonder why I submitted that
god, idek, I am so tired right now
my best Frankenstein’s Monster impression
are you guys impressed by my in depth critical reading
I’ve had this in my drafts FOREVER- but here’s the time I visited 221b.
BECAUSE. PLUS, I NEVER DO GRATUITOUS PHOTO POSTS, SO HERE IS A VERY JUSTIFIED ONE.
Looks like the married couple next door happened to be in…
Speedy’s was not open for Breakfast, Lunch OR Pasta.
I didn’t really mind.
(They only have the ‘221B’ plates up during production. Probably because I would have tried to prise them off and keep them forever.)
So I had a cigarette against the door instead.
And that, in itself, was ridiculously fulfilling.
Shame that I couldn’t work on Volunteer Hours there, like I planned (because how fucking meta would that be?) but I probably would have embarrassed myself somehow.
It. Was. Awesome.
1/2 older »
More fucking awesome pyjamas. Dad-work-shirts are the best pjs.