Well, things are good again, or at least progressing towards that end. I finished my Critical Review for creative writing, and I finished my Psych for Educators paper on the effects of television on children's development and cognitive abilities. It's not very good, I don't think, but at least it's done. It was harder than I thought because it had to be documented with APA (American Psychiatric Association) style, which is confusing as hell and makes absolutely no sense. I've been spolied as an English Studies major--we use MLA (Modern Literature association) which is wonderfully simple and easy to remember.
So at this point all that remains is 8 to 10 pages of British LIterature that's due on Tuesday. Woo.
Last night was the year end party for the Hibou, which was at the local Irish pub (Fionn MacCool's). It was pretty cool. Kori came with me, which was nice because I don't know how social I would have been otherwise. We did the awards, and I got "Editorial of the Year" (hardly surprising since I'm one of two people who wrote editorials; the irony is that I got it for a shitty editorial--all the good ones I wrote were pulled because they were too controversial) and honourable mention for "Bitch of the Year". :) It was cool--a lot of these people will be gone next year and I will really miss them. Greg walked me and Kori home, which was really nice of him. Karoke is scary, though I probably would've gotten up if they'd had Soft Cell's "Tainted Love" or the Clash's "Should I stay or Should I Go?" I came pretty close to doing "Stop DRaggin' My Heart Around" (Stevie Nicks/ Tom Petty) but I didn't have anyone to be my Tom Petty. Dammit.
We had to write a piece for creative writing that was a biographical sketch through the eyes of an inanimate object. I wrote mine from the point of view of my journal, and made it a commentary on the part of me that edits what I write. Most of what you see here only skims the surface of what's actually going on, what I'm saying, thinking, doing. Anyhow, the discussion on my piece led to a discussion of the 'imaginary audience' that we all construct for ourselves, and how in a journal, you, in theory, don't have an audience to write for. With this journal, I do have something of an incidental (accidental?) audience, obviously, and I do (to an extent) try to write to appeal to that audience. But even in my paper journal, every thought is carefully edited to create a different view of myself. this is partially the ego of wanting to seem better than what I actually, but it is also me writing for an imaginary audience. Me wanting to believe that what I wrote would actually be of interest to someone (for whatever reason) in the future, or even now.
Lots of ego in that. I should be on my way home in a couple of hours, which is pretty sweet. My mommy's birthday was Tuesday and I bought her a nightgown from Northern Reflections, so that should be a nice surprise for her. It'll be good to be home. I'm supposed to get together with Ang and Lauren, among other people, so that's pretty exciting.