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Man. Today we talked about post-structuralism (there is no truth, nobody knows anything, nobody can know anything), Heidegger (questioning everything, including existence, forwarding post-modernism, and then burning books and supporting Nazis), and Mengele (which I don't need to elaborate); then watched the middle section of Bamboozled (where the blackface minstrel show jokes get more and more and more over the top and offensive and the characters are starting to show the strain of performing them); then read a section from Heart of Darkness (where the Congolese are dying of disease and the one white man is so divinely clean and white that he's "a miracle").

All very interesting topics to discuss and analyze, but they mean that the emotional high point of my day has been explaining why we have the Permanent Fund (because the oil companies screw Alaska over).

I'm just . . . kind of emotionally exhausted, y'know? Yeah. I'm going back to my room to sleep for an hour and then getting food.

ETA: . . . Um. I guess I'm a lot more stressed than I realized.

I just got an e-mail from my production manager saying that no, I can't leave crew at 11 on Tuesday to catch a midnight train to Georgia Indiana -- and promptly started crying.

Oh yes. Fun times with bureaucracy and travel plans.

"Your crew experience relies on you staying until midnight" my ass. I do diddly-squat that can't be covered by the other A2. No wonder everyone said that doing crew was going to be hell.

Drabble request filled!

For varadia: Anna-Russ after Gwen has puppies

( They're adorable. )

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No, said the SM, you can't leave early on Tuesday.

Fuck, I said. Well, thanks. Fuck fuck fuck. NO YOU CANNOT HAS TRAVEL PLANS.

And humanity and the human condition still sucked.



. . . And then a guy complimented my hair.