Questions: Should I Be Asking Them?

Tuesday again—my favourite day of the week by far. I had an editing exam which I thought I'd go well in, but I could have gone a lot better. That took my confidence down more than a notch, but I'm certain that I passed, so I'm not too worried. Besides, the tutorial's where the fun's at... somewhat.

The start was simply epic. Earlier in the session, we had to submit pieces of prose to be edited by the class in a workshop kind of fashion—mine was first up. Being a comedian, I obviously submitted something I thought would get lulz, and I've wanted to know all term how it goes with regards to evoking said lulz. I had two distinct images in my head:

1. People begin to read, and as the reading goes on, laughter is scattered across the room, people giggle every now and then.
2. People begin to read, and they read in dead silence, not a noise is heard, not a smirk is seen.

Thankfully, I got the first one: many lulz were had ^_^  I haven't had that feeling of comic success for so long that I began to shake. I love that feeling. Some people wanted to see it performed, saying it'd work well on stage (its initial form), so I now have five minutes of material I know works. That's valuable—if I ever perform this, I know I'll succeed to at least some degree, making it good for a comedy competition or some other performance scenario where experimentation is dangerous and could lead to utter failure.

As for that girl who sits across the room goes... not so good.

I wanted to see how much she was laughing (if at all), but didn't glance over, nor did I get too much feedback from her—not a good sign. She wasn't smiling much today either. That's the most beautiful thing any woman can do: be happy and show it. I know people aren't happy all the time, but she was happier last week, at least a little bit. I wanted to see her smile so bad, but I never did. I guess I could be looking at that in relation to my piece, thinking that it failed to make her smile, but I don't know if that's true or not. I just want to see her smile, to see her happy.

Her default face is kind of like my default face: it leans more towards 'apathetic' than 'content' or even 'neutral'. She seems a little apathetic overall, which turns me off a little—my previous girlfriend's apathy was part of what led to her shitty handling of the break-up. I know she can be interested in things; I've seen it. When she's interested, she gets involved, she gets excited—perhaps she's bi-polar? I know I am :P

I'm having second thoughts. I guess it's better to have those now than anywhere else down the track, but seeing her cheered me up heaps last week—what happened? Is it that I want to make her happy myself, or just that I want her to be happy? What does that even mean? Am I faking concern just to prolong some pseudo-attraction, or am I genuinely unhappy because I didn't see her smile? I know seeing her smile makes me happy, that's definitely true... is the inverse true? Is that a prerequisite for attraction? I mean, today, her legs were exposed, her attire differing from the usual long pants or stockings she wears—to me, that's fucking awesome on a physical level, but in my mind, the lack of smile takes precedent. Is that a sign of something more? I don't know.

I have one more week where I'm guaranteed to see her, then a super-long break (seven weeks... holy crap :P). I highly doubt I'm gonna talk to her next week, so I suppose I'll just have to wait and see how I feel after the break.

Well, if I'm still going to uni... which I might not be, if I absolutely fail... ah well, there's always stalking :P

Beauty: In Language and People

I went to bed at 11 pm last night; I wasn't asleep until sometime past 3am the next morning.
I woke up with 10 minutes to get ready; it took me 15.
I got to my editing lecture 10 minutes late.

But goddamn, I'm happy right now.

Editing class does that to me. If the language is drugs, grammar is my crack cocaine: pure and dangerous. I mean, it's the only class where I really know what I'm doing. It's not like I'm not learning anything—if anything, I learn more and more each week—but it's the only class where I sit down and know I'm gonna kick ass in at least some respect. Substantive editing (editing for tone, consistency, redundancies, point of view, etc.) isn't the easiest and I'm only just picking it up, but there's a real buzz out of picking up someone's work and ripping it to pieces, suggesting better ways to say things, questioning all the ambiguities—brings out the superiority complex in everyone :P  Line-by-line editing (accidental narcotics pun FTW :D), however, is my favourite: droppin' punctuation like a boss, correcting the typos even Word would miss... fucking fun ^_^

I somehow managed to get into a little discussion with the teacher on whether the word 'over' in the title One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest was a preposition. Without really realising it, I'd come to a stronger conclusion than she had, being correct in stating that it was indeed a preposition rather than an adverb (as had been contested). She then complimented me on my grammatical ability in general—to quote NintendoCapriSun: so happy! It's just good to know the work I've put in to my technical writing skills over the years has paid off. On one hand, it's probably a little ridiculous that such a small compliment can make me feel so proud; but I know when I've earned my keep, and this is one keep I have fucking earned. 1 smiley approved for display :)

On the other hand... don't call my grammar good when there's a woman I'm interested in sitting across from me! You trollin'? Don't fucking troll me now, not with this! I already have next to no chance—are you gonna rob a poor man? The only thing I like more than that class is her... and she's in that class... so, not only am I doing lines, but I've also got a needle sticking out my arm! It doesn't matter what she wears, how she does her hair, who she's with, her mood that day... she's beautiful. Every class with her sees my urge to talk to her grow—and that's seriously the only thing I wanna do with her right now! Well... not the only thing, but the first thing, most certainly! I keep saying to myself 'Goddamn it, seriously, I would kill people just to talk to her. I'd slaughter half the fucking room just to get so much as a five minute conversation! I'll go Virginia Tech level if I have to—I don't care!' ...what the fuck am I talking about? I'll commit academic genocide, but won't go up to a girl I'm interested in and say 'Hi!'? These drugs are fucking my sense of logic right up :P

What's unusual is that I don't want to look at her. I actively prevent myself from doing that. The urge to ogle was stronger today than it has been for the past few weeks... it's getting harder and harder to not look :P  It's that thing where you want to look at someone, so you do, and then they look at you perchance, and you instantaneously look away thinking you've gotten away with it... then you go right back to looking at the person, they look at you again perchance, and you look away again—as if that trick's gonna work twice :P  She makes me forget all the shortcomings I usually think of when dreaming of women in solitude. I'm not even in the picture—it's just her. I don't know if that's love, and the label doesn't matter to me: all that matters is that I'm happy when I see her. Maybe I'll talk to her, maybe not—I really want to—but for now, I just like seeing her. I'll take what happiness I can get right now: if seeing her makes me happy, so be it. They're not dirty thoughts, nor intrusive, confusing, ambiguous, hurtful: just beautiful. Like her innocent smile... and the eyes that pop out of her head... and her curly hair... and her skin...

Beautiful like her :)