I chock it up to being chalk full of bad grammar

Here's a pet peeve that I have: When people say that something is "chalk full" of something else. That's wrong. It's chock full.

I also get angry when people "chock one up." Wrong again. It's chalk, this time. As in, you're tallying a score on a chalkboard. Chalk it up.

This has come up all too often in the past few weeks.

Futures Presents

My bank account has just enough money in it to keep it open. So does my checking account. My credit card bill is paid off, however. My student loans are waiting for my graduation, but tuition for next year needs to be paid. I have some cash that I hope will last until May. I ordered a few books and they should be arriving in time for me to tuck myself away for a few days and simply read (spring break is coming up). They will be my last purchases for a little while.

Despite my meager bank account, I'm content that the last thing I bought was something that I'm excited about. Despite the failing economy, I'm feeling rather jubilant. Perhaps it's because spring is nearly here. (I took my shoes off and walked through a puddle today. I sat on a bench in the sun reading while my feet dried and warmed up.) I'd like to think, though, that I'm feeling excited at the thought that maybe this country can turn around. That we can learn and grow from this recession and move on in a little less materialistic manner. Maybe people will learn. Maybe I'm giving them more credit than they deserve. At the very least, the state of the nation right now has rocked some people out of their comfortable little worlds.

There's no point to this. I just want to document the fact that I've been feeling hopeful for the past week or two.

Sometime this week I should hear about a summer internship. It's looking good.

I was also told by one of my professors that I should go to grad school. I'm not sure how I feel about that. She offered to help me find, research and apply to programs next year and encouraged me to think about moving to New York. "Hang out off Broadway," she told me. "You'll own it in a year." I'm not sure if that's a good thing. Does that mean I'll fit in with them? Do I want to fit in in New York? Does it mean that I will destroy and rebuild the worlds of the hipster fucks whose pretensions decide what is art and what isn't? I'm not sure how to feel about it all yet. On the plus side, she implied that I have a future doing what I love - writing and theatre. I've decided that, for now, I'm going to accept and appreciate the fact that she thinks I'm talented.

I think the best use of my energy in the coming week will be toward getting things done for this year, rather than worrying about next year and beyond. All I can do right now is wait and hope that some of my plans work out.

Books, Solace

One thing that I would like in my future is my own library. Or at the very least, a corner of my dwelling devoted to bookshelves. I want all of these bookshelves filled. I'm rediscovering books and using them as solace in a way that I have not done since I was very young. Thanks to my poetry class, I am reading more poetry and buying more books that I will keep beyond the class, which is a nice feeling. Reading poetry is nice as well. When I first began writing I didn't like to read poetry because I would get discouraged. Reading it now is exciting because I'm learning all of the possibilities there are in poetry, and I love that.

I am excited for a future in which I can read things because I want to know about them, not because I have to know about them for class. In particular, I want to read about gender construction and things of that nature. It fascinates me.