Mark Twain Sponsored Procrastination

There are days I realize that I'm a huge procrastinator. It hits me like a whirlwind epiphany, and I am enlightened. Only for a few seconds, though, because then Tumblr, or some other networking nonsense site calls my name, and there goes my productivity.

It's rather stupid, if you ask me.

Self-Reliant Insanity

My name is Angela Lopez-Villarreal and I lost my fourth round. I feel kind of pathetic about it, because it was a really easy case, and I could’ve done better.

Today, I had three pretty successful rounds, well, maybe two. First round was a real toss-up, because I was negative, and the affirmative was twisting my 1NR like, ridiculously. I was kind of displeased with this development, but hopefully, my judge realizes how awesome my case was.

Round two and three were kind of great. Great is pronounced with an 8, because it is gr8. I really don’t know why I started doing that, because it was kind of random, but cool. Hahaha.

Oh, yeah. Rounds. Two was kind of gr8. Third was the best, though. I think. Hopefully. Jesus Christ, I lost round three, I don’t know what I would do.

On the subject of team bondingdddddddddd oh. There went my D key. There was something on the key, what the hell.

I was talking about rounds, right? Round four was a piece of shit that will never be mentioned again as long as I live unless I’m dying and I need someone to talk to, and yeeeeeeeah that’s probably the only day/reason people will hear about the failure that is round four.

Now, can I move on to team bonding?

Yes?

Okay.

Team bonding. I don’t really participate in any of those events, because I find them to be kind of awkward. For me, at least. I mean, they sound fun in theory, but I think twelve hours of seeing the kids in debate/speech mode is enough for me. Don’t get me wrong, the team is gr8, but I’m always tired after tournaments, so no bonding for me.

Plus, they’re not even that gr8, I think.

I wouldn’t know, hahahaha. I don’t go to them. Silly me.

Um. What else to say? Today’s been kind of long, and super time-consuming. I’m tired. I just want to go home and curl up in a pile of blankets, tucked away safely in a corner with my MacBook, and Tumblr, and hot chocolate. I don’t think that’s a good combination though. Might as well do my homework. APUSH first, because I don’t like AP Bio, and I can do that tomorrow.

This was originally my negative case for debate, which I will have to revise on Sunday, so I can send to McCoy for revisions, and for utter preparation for Debate #3. If I don’t get 4-0 either today, or wahzoo three, I will be forced to go to Redwood. Redwood is dumb. I don’t like the tournament. It puts all the desperate debate people together, and expects them to kill each other for a bid to state qualifiers. That’s not even the worst part.

State quals is absolutely worse. Unlike speech state quals, there is no orderly fashion, or fun times to be had. State quals for debate is like...going to hell early, and before you are dead.

Yeaaaaaaaah, no thank you. That’s why I need the 4-0, and the win in general. I don’t want to go to Redwood. It was hell last year. Six rounds.

I can’t believe this is actually going on my blog. That’s kind of dumb, and the opposite of gr8.

My throat hurts. I want some water, but the snack bar is expensive, and I don’t want to walk there, and spend my money on cheap, grimy-tasting water. Ew. It’s 5:04 PM right now. Hopefully, awards come up soon, and I get to go home. I just want to go home.

But I already elaborated on that a couple of paragraphs ago.

This is stupid.

Silly Love Stories

The high pitched giggles echoed in the morning dew, vibrations noticeable through winter-caressed grass. You decide you hate your life, as your combat boots crush the already dying vegetation. You hate everything you stand for, and you would much rather die than be trapped in a situation you can't get out of.

You want to be loved, but you close up your mind to everyone around you.

It's okay, though.

No one ever appreciates the effort, anyways. You don't have friends, and those who call themselves your friends are the most disgusting of the bunch. At least, that's what you've recently found out.

Korsgaard Did Not Believe In Human Innocence

Today, we're talking about moral obligation in debate. I should be extremely well-versed in this subject, but I have (sadly) been slacking. I mean, I have been reading, and educating myself in the works of Christine Korsgaard, Kantian philosopher. I am not her biggest fan for various reasons, only two of them aesthetic.

1. Korsgaard relies on the element of human selfishness. and the human ability to always put themselves before others.
2. The writing is pretentious, and even the most gifted college-educated student is unable to decipher her hieroglyphics.
3. I really need to be able to figure her out in order to make a powerpoint presentation for my debate class.

That said, I'm slacking. It's a sad, sad, sad thing.

Good Is Better Than Perfect

Sometimes I wonder whether or not I'm good enough for the teams I'm involved with. I'm sure I missed a comma, or two, in that past sentence.

The worry comes from the shining stars around me. They make me feel like an inadequate star, ready for supernova - one last, flashy finish away from oblivion.

I have a debate tournament tomorrow, what am I doing here?

Is She Ready Yet?

It is pretty late. I usually fall asleep at ten, because that's when I feel I can get enough sleep to get me past the day. It's eleven now, and I felt like I needed to make a blog.
This is my fourth blog. This might cause warning bells in your head to start screeching, to start screaming, - "Oh, Angie, what do you mean!?" - but this has been thought of.

The Depression of the Young Literati, now The Problem With Honesty, is going out of commission for a while, until I can learn to articulate my thoughts in a manner that I am not ashamed of.
However, I cannot deny my love for creating blogs. I find them quite entertaining, and rather useful for expressing thoughts, and whatnot.
This is it.

My name is Angie. I'm really not that fun to be with.

I don't know if this year will be fantastic, or brilliant, or filled with great wishes. Here's to surviving.