February 18th, 2002


(no subject)

We have a ridiculously long homeroom today, during which I will read those four chapters of Frankenstein. Juniors have an assembly of some sort. I'm not yet sure how this will effect how much time I'll have to get Tish's lunch. Hrm. (I have to go home to get it; bringing her lasagna. My mom makes the world's best spinach and chicken lasagna. She does.)
Still shaky. Damn.
Thinking more and more on restarting ML completely. It's written like ass as is, and going nowhere veeery slowly, which aggravates me. I'd like to just revamp the whole thing. I might. I just might. It's dead week due to TAAS tests (the high school sophomores of Texas get to take the Texas Assessment of Academic Skills test in the mornings on Tues-Thurs. Unless you are unable to understand English, you pass with a fairly high grade. The TAAS is well-known for being a joke) so I go to school at 11:00 and have no career center. That leaves plenty of time to work on ML. Or it should; odds are I'll get nothing done because Nicole or Gabriel will need rides to somewhere and my mom will need me to run errands and such. But I can try.
  • Current Mood
    throat is sore. Hrm.

(no subject)

It is quite cold in here.
I am fairly certain that when one's fingernails start to turn blue, it is not a good thing. But I could be wrong.
Head is stuffy. Not a headache, quite. Almost like sinus pressure. Hrm.

Well. I have absolutely no drive to work on ML ever again. Nor any of the others. Feh. I don't think I'll quit. My creative drive has highs and lows - more and more often lows of late - but it should kick back in eventually. Maybe. I dunno anymore.
Second Arrival and Lotoae sit, neglected. I can remember when they fascinated me. Now... eh. Don't care. Just words on the computer screen and worthless scribbles on pieces of paper. I suppose the only thing that stops me from dropping art altogether is that it's been tied to my existence for so long that I'm somewhat afraid I will cease to be without it there to define me.
"This is Jenni, the one who draws."
"This is Jenni, she's got that comic."
"This is Jenni, the artist."
"This is Jenni - show them your sketchbook, Jenni."
Take away the art.
"This is... um... what's your name, again?"
Maybe that would be better all around.

Every day Mike walks by while I'm in this class and mocks me. *crouches and readies brick*

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  • Current Mood
    apathetic apathetic

(no subject)

I'm looking at a sketch that would have been on page 31. It feels like someone else drew it.
These characters are suddenly utterly foreign to me. I can't get inside their heads anymore. I can't understand Makenzie wanting to spend time with people, or Matt's artistic inspiration, and I had trouble getting into Jared and Karen's heads to start with, now it's flat-out impossible.

Maybe I will end it after all.
  • Current Music
    Michelle Branch - Goodbye to You