Is there anything illegal about plotting against yourself?

Since finishing school and deciding to defer board exams to February, I've been feeling a tremendous need for deadlines. I've realized that without clear, tangible goals, I end up actually looking at my life and trying to improve as a human being in ways that are not objectively measurable. I don't care for this. I much prefer my self-reflection to occur in short spurts, usually ending with the thought, "I'll take care of that when I have the time, but right now I need to focus on ______" (with "______", in most cases, being a trivial wheel-spinning like task that somehow makes me feel important).

I mean, I still have long term goals, like passing boards and generally being awesome, but, for now, they're not enough to fill the days. Getting a job is a short term goal to prevent starvation, but searching for one doesn't really feed my urge for productivity. I could probably blog more often again...but I won't (sorry Jennijen).

In general, I'm not an A type personality. If anything, I'm A/B. You know, just organized enough to piss off the slackers, but just lazy enough to irritate the hard-core overachievers. I like it this way, I makes me feel like my Yin and Yang are in balance (also, of course, because it maximizes irritation to others). But, now that I'm free of stress, my B side has been so overindulged that the A side is jumping out. I want to plan and control everything in my surroundings. If there is a problem, I will solve it, even if it's best left alone, or imaginary. Most are imaginary. It's difficult to solve imaginary problems, mainly because there is an infinite supply of imaginary obstacles. Plus, even once your solve it, there are just more imaginary problems right behind it. It's very tiring.

So, I'm going crazy because the A side of my personality is taking over, and, to be perfectly honest, I hate that bitch. But, not to worry, as always, I have a plan. And by I have a plan, I mean the side of my personality that I just outright slandered (Wait...libeled. Although this is all sort of talked out in my head as I write it down, so it's sort of like slander. Not really though. Wait, but if it's true that my A side is a bitch, then have I really done either? Why is life so hard?) has a plan. Well, many plans. So many plans that my A side won't know what hit it and will eventually calm down, allowing my B side to bask in the glory that is summer freedom.

The first, promise baking to anyone who crosses my path. Birthday? I got ya covered. Excessive studying? Let me feed that sugar craving. Trying to lose weight? Oh wait, we might have a problem, but do you want a cupcake anyways?

The second plan is to attempt to be a vegetarian again without starving to death. This plan was thwarted quickly by a friends birthday celebration at a Korean BBQ, where I ingested a good months worth of meat. I'm trying again and hoping I don't randomly come across a large stash of unclaimed steak. You know, because eating random meat you find on the street is always intelligent. Well, it might be, if you just saw it fall off a truck of a trusted meat distributor. Of course, you could probably trace it if that happened, and would need to return it to the proper authorities as a responsible and ethical citizen. Which leaves me as a vegetarian for the time being, unless offered free meat. Or bored and craving Korean BBQ.

The third (and last plan I will discuss here, as I have too many random plans flitting through my head to fully document) is to write a novel in a month. I know that November is apparently supposed to be the month for writing a novel in a month, but I'm going to be busy with other things in November, so why not now? Well, why not might be because I don't have a plot or characters or a setting, or really anything that could make a novel other than a vague sense of the tone I'd like. And even that I can't describe in words. But, I figure if I don't force myself to do it now, when will I force myself? The answer is never, which is probably a good answer, because, seriously, what's the point? However, in the interest of kicking my A personality back into submission, I will take on this task. You will most likely never see the results, well, not unless you are family or a close friend who I am willing to torture by forcing you to read a large number of jumbled words I tossed out in a month in an inane attempt to regain my sanity.

You know what I haven't done in a long time? Listed a happy song. Luckily, I've recently been obsessed with the song Tightrope by Janelle Monae, mainly because I can't listen to it without dancing like a crazy person, so my abs are getting really tight. Now I'm off to write stuff that is not this.

I'm back, sort of, for now, but probably not tomorrow or the next day

So, you may have thought that I'd forgotten about this blog. I have not, I have however, knowingly neglected it. It's not that I don't care about it anymore, it's just that it's summer, and I'm happy, and I'm starting to think all my best rants might be rooted in neurosis and generalized anxiety. I'm sure something will throw me off soon, and then we're back in business.

Last night, I copied some of my posts into I Write Like because apparently it's all the rage. My first result was Chuck Palahniuk, which was interesting since it wasn't even on of the ones where I referenced Fight Club. Those came up as Cory Doctorow. I don't really know who that is, but I think Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom is an awesome title.

I've put in a bunch of different posts and gotten at least 10 different people that I write like. I'm not sure that this site is incredibly accurate. Or maybe I just don't really write like anyone, but it has to spit out a name, so it does so at random. That's probably for the best, since I don't want to be the person that broke I Write Like. I feel that the Twitter community would take vengeance swiftly.

One might also theorize that each post comes up with a different author because my writing is so erratic and inconsistent. I don't care for this theory, so please stop that.

Banana brain goo

The world is too hot to blog. My brain is actually in a puddle on the floor, but I scooped it up a few days ago to write the following, and then didn't publish it, but now I will, because, otherwise nothing is going to posted for a very long time if summer keeps this up. I would like to visit Antarctica and hang out with the penguins. I mentioned this to a friend, and they said, you know it's winter there, right? And I do. I'd wanted to say Alaska and hang out with the polar bears, but the 24 hour days are probably as bad as the heat.

The other day, I went to Canada's Wonderland with my friend Nicola Tupperstein who was visiting from out west. We ate foot long hot dogs and rode all the roller coasters, except for the boring ones. Then we had a cookiewich. Really, it was a recipe for indigestion, but totally worth it.

As we were walking through a semi-secluded path where it was possible to hear the various screams coming from the rides around us, Nicola speculated that this would be a great place to hurt someone, because no one would hear the screams. Sometimes, when people live far away, you can forget exactly how terrifying they are. In case you're wondering, she did not kill me.

We also saw some teens who had won a human-sized stuffed banana and were trying to put it in their not-human-sized backpack. It wasn't working. I could have predicted that, which is why I only try to win obscenely large stuffed animals at the end of the day. Nicola asked what one would do with such a banana. "Well," I said, "It will probably sit around their bedroom for awhile, until they go to university, where it will be brought out while drinking and humped periodically. Then, eventually, it will be trashed by his future wife." I had that banana's number, but I think that's because I've always been skilled at reading bananas.