yeah, that Galen really knew what he was talking about

Aww, y’all think I’m cute...I’m flattered. Or you’re at least intimidated by my hair? Understandable; my hair is a separate entity unto its own. It cannot be tamed, only pacified with annoyingly expensive conditioner and many bobby pins.
vicfitz82 is a wonderful photographer. See, for example, his gorgeous pictures of the ice storm, and of the blizzard aftermath in the next entry.

Sorry, I’m always a little surprised when people comment on my appearance, particularly favorably—it’s not that I thought I was ugly as a kid or anything, just not particularly pretty either. Actually, I didn’t pay attention to my appearance at all, unless I put on purple lipstick and crazy eyeshadow and tried to look like an alien. At least I missed out on the insane body issues that a lot of girls seem to have, that’s one good thing.
Coincidentally, I was privy to a slightly mind-numbing conversation at dinner last night; I happened to set my tray down next to some boys who were discussing reasons they’d broken up with their girlfriends. The main complaint was that the girls refused to carry themselves as “a girl that’s my woman” (?) should; they paid scant attention to their makeup, wore skirts that were too short or not short enough, didn’t wear perfume, didn’t cut their hair the right way. I’ve no idea why a certain haircut should be a prerequisite for a relationship, unless there’s some kind of fetish involved, but I’m immensely pleased that I’ve managed to avoid such relationships of any type. I let my hair go, I wear ratty secondhand turtlenecks and snowboots all the time, I have a scraggly-yet-fuzzy neckbeard (you can’t really see it in the picture, but rest assured it is there and I like it), and nobody really cares. It’s great.
I hate people who act like they’re doing someone a favor by dating them, though. In this cold world, you should be grateful as hell for any real love you get, ten times so if you already loved them anyway.

Anyway, more on writing etc: Was talking with Boyd last night, came to the conclusion that a good way to jump-start my own originality, as far as fiction goes, would be to practice writing George!stories. By this, I mean what I’m doing with spacematchbook: semi-fanfics that are ostensibly written by George. I’ve made up two entire races of aliens for this book, which is more innovative than anything original I’ve tried to do lately. Yeah, it’s kind of a crutch, but if I can get used to having to think up my own characters and settings again, it’ll be worth it.
So spacematchbook will soon be turned into a sockpuppet writing journal. I’m planning on rewriting the “novel” anyway, since I (well, other people who are somehow better attuned to this than I am) keep coming up with ideas that work perfectly, but require a lot of ret-conning. It’d be cheating to just go back and erase the bits I’ve already posted...this is why I gave up on posting WIPs in the first place. I’m going to write the whole thing, taking time to revise and polish, then when I’m done, post it as a serial. Maybe one or two chapters a week, depending on length. It may take a while to do, but at least I’ll have a coherent book for a starter novel. I’m going to private-lock all the old entries on…oh, let’s say February first, to give anyone who really wants to read what I have at the moment time to check it out.
I have started trying to conceive of more original ideas, but I’m afraid they keep turning autobiographical. At least, the characters insist upon being based on people I know. Is this because I can’t think of completely original characters, or because everyone I know is just too interesting not to be one? I have two major ideas at the moment, one involving disappointed Lovecraft fans, one from the utterly perceptive and inspiring oddzade, who pointed out some things about my little “ooh, I finally figured it out” rant that I hadn’t even thought of, and who suggested I develop my myth into a novel. (Well, in addition to ideas my dear mother keeps foisting upon me, and ideas that the brilliant ghostgecko occasionally lets me have. I have not forgotten these.)

I do know now that writing isn’t going to be my first career, though. It’s an incredibly important part of my identity, and I love it, and I think I’m good at it…but accepting that I may never get published and make my living off it actually makes me feel a little more free, like I don’t have to be super-productive, I don’t have to start writing sellable original stories right away, I don’t have to worry about submitting stories to journals and making contacts and all those other things that professionals do. I can hang onto fanfiction and little practice stories for a while longer. Heck, all my life, if I so choose.
I’ve decided that I’m going to double-major again. I’ll get my Creative Writing degree first, since I’m already way on the road to getting enough credits; that one’s for me, and me alone. I’ll keep going to college after the fourth year; I may not have the MET to assist me, but I can get student loans, scholarships, work in the college as a secretary or prof’s assistant, negotiate with Dad for another year of tuition if I have to.
I do want to be a psychologist. Therapist, probably. I think I might be able to learn to be a really good one. I’ve been thinking about this for a while...I don’t want to sound cheesy or pretentious, but it kind of feels like a calling, rather than just a profession.

Slightly related postscript: I think I have two conversational modes. Therapist Mode, in which I nod and say “Mmhmm” and “How do you feel about that?”, and Extrovert Mode, in which I argue and make bad jokes and tell long, meandering stories. I do Extrovert Mode to compensate for Therapist Mode, because I’d love to be a sparkling and witty conversationalist, but instead I end up jumping all over people’s conversations. (And then there’s Slightly Stunned mode, in which someone will tell me something incredibly cool and I’ll be so impressed that I won’t have anything to add. This only applies to a few people, though.)
Should work on integrating the two. Therapist Mode is all good and well for when someone has a problem, but Extrovert Mode is probably getting old fast.

ONE MORE UNRELATED THING: I have just signed up to do an end-of-the-semester presentation for Victorian Thought and Literature class. My topic: Mental Illness in Victorian Times, and the Treatment of Such.

JUST ONE MORE UNRELATED THING: I have an idea for an AU "House M.D." fic: House, Wilson, et al as medieval doctors. It'd be great! Foreman would be a Moor! Cameron would be a nun! You could have House going on about imbalances of black bile, and applying leeches! It'd take a lot of research, but it's not like anyone else has written one yet. Unless I'm missing something.