Thursday, December 09, 2004

les blues

Yesterday found me sucked into the drain of despair. It's so yucky and clichéd to have existential crises in France, it's really embarassing. But also, methinks, unavoidable.

It may have everything to do with finishing Lolita and fealing like my heart was put through a paper shredder. Or it may be that I am thousands and thousands of miles from almost all of my little friends. Or it may be the complete absence of drug use in my life. Or it may be the snowlessness.

What really pissed in my swimming pool yesterday, however, was this: I am woefully behind in preparations to apply for grad schools for next fall. I mean, all I've really done is email people for letters and thought, perhaps not without high school-esque nostalgia, about buying a GRE study book.

Alas, one week later, I have only heard from one person I asked to write me a letter. And I can't fucking take the GRE! Blogga, please (to steal from this blogga hottie)! Not to mention the confusing process of paying for application fees when I live in another country with another currency and I don't have checks. Could I get a money order in dollars from my French bank?! Inquiring minds...

Also, maybe I just shouldn't even apply. Am I ready? Am I good enough? Or do I just have shockingly high expectations of creative writing grad students from being overexposed at too young an age?

Maybe I should actually be experimenting with having a fucking real life. Like, in a real country, in a real appartment, with a real job? Maybe? But I mean, this is what I've been trying to avoid all along, ferchrissakes! Possibly because of my seeming complete inability to function within the spheres of practicality. Or because I am afraid of becoming just another mediocre asshole who bitches about their job all the time and loses all their joie ve vivre (if I may be so French).

Luckily, though, I did have a weird pseudo-sex dream about the hottest blogger in America, which sort of tempered things slightly. Unfortunately, masturbation only solves a finite number of ones problems.

1 Comments:

Blogger Zach said...

masturbation only solves a finite amountof one's problems? someone should have told me this earlier and i could have half of my life back!
in the vin chaud i have always been a fan of fresh fruit, as opposed to sec, which they suggest. and a cinna-stick would help to make it better. however, you rally believe ginger, hereafter reffered to as the light of my life, could, would ruin the vin chaud? fie on that thought i say fie.
one more week. errgh. then off to strasbourg and heidelberg for a week and then back to grenoble to ring in the last days of festivus and the nouvelle annee.

9:00 AM  

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