Pretend this post makes sense.

I have two essays and a presentation to get done before noon on Friday, and then a final at some point after that (the school has so far refused to tell me when, and I'm beginning to have the horrified suspicion that it might be Monday morning, but I'm trying not to think about it because panicking never helps.) And so I've spent all day trying to be brilliant, and I haven't really gotten as far as I should have, but now it's evening and whenever I try to think there's this funny grinding noise and I smell burning. I've therefore decided that it would be entertaining to write a blog post without engaging my brain. Have some disconnected thoughts. You're welcome.

Every so often, I look in the mirror for longer than is necessary to make sure nothing inappropriate is hanging out of my clothing, there's nothing stuck in my teeth, and my hair isn't sticking up funny. This is usually when I notice that my eyebrows are large and bushy and appalling and I should really do something about them. I get out my tweezers. I usually average about one hair removed before I remember why I usually just try to coexist peacefully with my large, bushy eyebrows, because HOLY SHIT PLUCKING MY EYEBROWS HURTS. I realize it gets better after you've been doing it for a while, but I usually have to wait five minutes for my eyes to stop watering so I can see to move on to the next hair, and I simply don't have time to dedicate a full day to my eyebrows until I adjust. Also, I get the impression that makeup and manicures and waxings lie further down that path, so at this stage of my life, I'll just put up with them.

Lately, I feel like I don't really exist. (Bear with me here, this does make sense. I think, anyway.) I don't normally have a terribly exciting and glamorous life, but since I got here I have to work so hard to keep up with everyone else that I pretty much don't do anything except eat, sleep, do basic exercise and hygiene, go to class, and study. It's the most horribly boring, sterile existence, and I actually don't mind it because I'm solitary anyway, but this evening it occurred to me that I'm kind of like the backdrop for everyone else's more exciting life, because I don't have one of my own. An extra, if you will. Front Row Girl # 3. No one would notice if I died in my sleep and didn't come to class, because no one knows who I am anyway. It's a little depressing.

On the other hand, I've noticed a sudden upswing in the number of men staring at me. This is how men normally interact with me - none of them ever talk to me, they just stare - but there's been a lot of it lately and I'd like to know why so I can make it stop, because I really don't like it (really, does anyone like people staring at them, but refusing to actually engage with them? It's creepy and rude and is a large part of the reason why, despite my best intentions, I have such a low opinion of men. I'm a person, not a piece of scenery. Grow a pair and at least say "hi", for Christ's sake). My clothing, hairstyle, and general deportment basically whimpers "don't look at meeee" so I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong here. Please advise.

Today, I learned that it isn't only the dryer that eats socks. It's the washer, too. If you have a front-loader, they get stuck between the door and the tub. The washer I used this morning would have gotten away with three of my new ones if I hadn't noticed the corner of one of them sticking out. I haven't worked out what the dryer does with them, but I plan to.

Earlier this week, when I was taking another break from thinking, I wandered out of my normal corner of the Internet to look at Half-Blood Prince trailers. (It's my favorite Harry Potter book - I skip all the teenage angst and just bask in the wondrous glory of the dramatic irony - and I thought this time I would pay some attention, since Order of the Phoenix kind of snuck by me.) Unfortunately, IMDB wouldn't play any of them for me, and I had to go to a fan site. And then I had to go lie down from the sheer force of all the crazy coming out of my monitor, and I feel better about having been a Star Wars fan. I'm also relieved that NephthysWrath is planning to come over and see it with me, because I'm afraid to be alone with these people.

The paper I'm writing right now is for my theory class, and it's kicking my ass. The sad part is that it really shouldn't be, because I managed to get the topic that deals with agency and social structure, which I've actually already done in art theory. But the problem is that now I have to come at it from the other way around, and it's harder than it seems (I actually think it's giving me more problems than the other students who have never heard of it before). Also, I seem to be back to my old writing speed of 2 hours per page, which is depressing, especially as I have 6 more pages to go, I think. And basically, I'd really like to give up for the night and deal with it tomorrow morning, but I have to put my presentation together tomorrow since I have to give it on Tuesday (it's not graded, they just like wasting our time) and then I have to do that Egyptology paper that I put off for the entire break, and I estimate that will take me a minimum of 2 days. The two papers are due Friday at noon. It's going to be a long week. And a long night. Shoot me now.