Things I've Learned From Twin Peaks, pt. 2

Today and tomorrow will be shorter/sillier posts due to needing desperately to catch up on finals. Normalcy is projected to resume Wednesday.

Hollowed out coconuts are the perfect place to hide things.

Pie is perfection. Plus also really annoying to draw.

Silent drape runners are the next big thing.

Starting at the beginning is for losers.

The letter J is everywhere all the time.

Things I've Learned From Twin Peaks

I'm having a family medical emergency, so today you're going to get these instead of a real post.

Tape recorders are sentient beings with real names capable of running errands.

The only way to figure out which suspect is the one to investigate is to throw rocks at a glass bottle.

Everything you need to know will come to you in a dream. Everything.

Logs are also sentient, and are capable of seeing and hearing people committing crimes.

Being weird is okay!!!!!!

I Have Super Powers

I have Super Powers. My mom gave them to me. I can fit any amount of anything into my backpack. I am not joking. It is kind of ridiculous. I realized this today when I realized just how many things I needed with me in Somerset. This is what my backpack looked like after I packed it:

In the first pouch, in the very front, I keep my Black Parade confetti. I got it when I saw My Chemical Romance’s first show on their Black Parade tour. They had confetti cannons, and exploded confetti into the crowd. I put some in my pockets, and then decided to keep it in my backpack, so I would never lose it and always have it on me.

This is not all of it, just a small sample.

This is the second pouch. Mostly I only keep food there, but sometimes I put other small things in it so they don’t get lost in the hugeness of the bigger pouches. Currently, I have three tins of Study Mints (anise seed mints from William Sonoma that are my incentive to study—I only let myself eat them if I’m actually getting work done), a ball of yarn, a bag of sour gummy worms, mac & cheese from Panera, hand cream, a pencil sharpener, two tampons, a house key, a bar of Hershey’s chocolate, an old receipt, three tubes of Smarties, an eraser, two pencils (one of them is a Pokémon pencil that I’ve had since third or fourth grade), a Sharpie, a PrismaColor pen, and two bags of tea I stole from the café.

The third pouch isn’t super useful; it’s thin and narrow and not quite tall or wide enough for papers. I’ve been keeping my colored pencils and markers in it.

There are two open pouches on the sides, useful for tall things, like Saltines, a water bottle and an umbrella.

There are two other pouches right next to those that are the most useless things ever. I went through them for the purpose of this investigation and found a comb, two things of tinfoil and a pair of contacts. I have not used contacts in five years. It was kind of gross.

This is where I get really skilled. The biggest pouch is very, very big and I am very good at squishing things. There was a season of Twin Peaks, my wallet, the Stephen King book I’m currently reading, my headphones, my current knitting project, my computer’s charger, a knitting needle, a piece of pasta, my stuffed lion Pace and a full-sized blanket. It is full-sized. I promise.

There is a top pouch where you’re supposed to keep your iPod and stuff, but I don’t bother to bring it when I know I’ll be on my computer the whole time. This is another good place to keep small things, and also sharp things. There are four knitting needles, a pair of scissors, an iPod connector, two double A batteries, a pencil and two more rolls of Smarties.

Then there is the computer pouch. I keep my computer in it, along with papers I don’t want to get bent. The folded up one is an old essay I forgot was in there, then two edited copies of the same paper that’s different from the first paper, a stack of blank papers for drawing pictures for my blog, the reading I was supposed to do this weekend but didn’t, and then a homework assignment.

This is everything that was in my backpack.

Going To Bed Should Not Be This Difficult

Going to bed is one of those things that is one hundred percent harder than it should be. It would be awesome if, when I looked at the clock and saw that it was six past midnight, that generated the following train of events:

1.    “Oh, look. It’s past midnight. I should go to sleep, so when I have to get up for class on Monday, I’ll be alive.”

2.     I pack my things together, leave Somerset and walk to my dorm without any interruptions.

3.    Go into my room quietly, change into my pjs, get into bed.

4.    Go straight to sleep.

However, this is generally what ends up happening instead:

1.    “Oh, look. It’s past midnight. I should go to sleep, so when I have to get up for class on Monday, I’ll be alive.”

2.    Then I check my email.

3.    Then Facebook.

4.    Then my blog to see if anyone commented or is following me.

5.    And then I stay up for another long period of time doing stupid internet things, or maybe watching Twin Peaks and/or knitting.

6.    Eventually I am too exhausted to be alive and the mere thought of being awake is enough to make me cry.

7.    Pack my things, leave Somerset, walk past the coffee shop and get depressed because I’m out of culinary cash and there are a whole eleven more days until the end of term.

8.    Walk to my dorm without any interruptions.

9.    Go into my room quietly, change into my pjs, get into bed.

10.  Play backgammon on my phone for an hour. Possibly also cribbage and Sudoku, maybe even Rush Hour, though usually I’m too tired to think that clearly.

11.  Put my phone away and spend another 30 to infinity minutes not falling asleep because I’m incapable of falling asleep.

You can start to see why this is a problem even within those lists. I am actually tired, tired enough to not remember how to use tenses. This is related to another problem with staying up late—I can do homework if I woke up before noon, but I can’t think much beyond YAY INTERNET!!! past, say, eleven-thirty. Then the following events occur:

1.    Wake up at quarter of one in the afternoon.

2. Throw on whatever clothes are closest and sprint down to the café before it closes for lunch

3.    Forget to bring study supplies.

4. Need to walk back to dorm after lunch and return to the same building to study.

5.    Look at the clock.

6. Get panicky because it’s quarter of two and I haven’t gotten any work done yet.

7.    Do stupid internet things to calm down.

8.    Realize it’s quarter of three.

9.    Get panicky.

10.  Finally get some work done, but continually get distracted by IMs and the Internet and the most recent episode of Grey’s Anatomy and knitting and Twin Peaks and looking at pictures of Montana.

By the way, friends, Montana is the most beautiful place in the world. If I didn’t love my college so very, very much, I would transfer there so I could live in the mountains and breathe the fresh, mountain air and go skiing all the time. There is not a lot of skiing in the Midwest. It is very flat. Plus, about the air: my campus sometimes, for no reason whatsoever, smells like cow poop. This could be because the entirety of the downtown area is built on a landfill. Or maybe because there’s a paper factory across the river. I don’t know. But it’s gross.

I have cleverly blacked out the name of the paper mill so you can't find me and won't kill me in my sleep.

I am concerned that, since the town is built on a landfill, there is secretly a Trash Monster that comes out at night to kill people who don't live by the CC&Rs like in that X-Files episode.

Picture taken from: http://xfphotos.fredfarm.com/index.htm. If you never need X-Files pictures, that is the place to go.

I did not take this picture because I have never been to Montana. I will, though. One day.

Picture from:  http://www.montanadeathrecord.com/montana.jpg.

Another consequence of not sleeping enough is that I get crabby and the little things, like everything smelling like cow poop, start to get to me. If I could go to bed at midnight like a normal person, I bet when I woke up and walked outside and smelled the cow poop, I would be like, “Wow! Cow poop! What a beautiful day!” But no. Instead, I go outside, and I’m like, “Grrrrrr cow poop you make my life miserable. I hate you, cow poop.”

This is now sitting face down on the coffee table in front of me so people don't see it and think I'm crazy.

Okay. The CD I was listening to just ended, and I am going to take this as a sign that it is time for bed, even though I have not drawn pictures of cow poop yet. I can do that tomorrow, and it will make no difference whatsoever because I don’t want to post two posts in one day because:

1.    I don’t want to overwhelm my readers.

2.    I don’t want to use up all of my post ideas right away.

3.    I don’t have the materials for drawing on hand, and my roommate is asleep and I don’t want to wake her up to get them. Plus it’s cold out, and I don’t want to either:

                             a. Walk to my room and back.

                             b. Pack up, go to my room, get my things, sit outside my room and unpack again.

4. I can’t take a picture of the paper factory because it’s dark out.

5. I don’t have a picture of the building with the crack in the floor because the whole town is sinking, or even remember what building it is, which means I will have to ask my professor, who looks like John Stamos.

Also, there’s a really loud band playing somewhere and it’s driving me absolutely crazy. Good night, friends.

p.s. I did not go to sleep. Instead I stayed up late to write blog posts. I did, however, move away from the obnoxious loud band. I also changed into my pjs in the dark, then decided I wanted to stay up. This involved grabbing a bra at random because I couldn’t see, and also a shirt at random, because I couldn’t see. So now I am wearing a skintight Lifeguard Hampton Beach shirt that I got as a joke and my super push up bra. A mistake has been made.

You do not get to see the skintight shirt or the super push up bra because I look like a skank and that is not the image I want to project onto my internet readers.

p. p. s. The Somerset situation has gotten more intense.

People have started moving the comfy couches and chairs to the tables lining the windows. This is one example, but the same is true up and down the room. My roommate walked in, looked at the situation, then looked at me and gave me an "Oh god, you weren't exaggerating" look. I was vindicated.

Also, no stalking!!