Thursday, January 29, 2009
Can you see the Dinosaur eating Nicole’s purse?
My little brother had a green stuffed dinosaur when he was little, still has it actually. Deno is his name, he is super cute. My brother loved his neck almost in half, now he lives in a wooden crate on his bed at home. Deno is still cute, but has seen better days. The fabric on his neck is so thin you can see the stuffing inside of him. His skin is turning clear, not a good sign. Mom could always fix anything we ever ripped or needed sewn, but I don’t think there is much hope for Deno’s neck, unless she gives him a new one. As long as he stays in that wooden crate I think he is safe.
I am reading Jurassic Park in my SiFi class at the moment, which is why I have Dinosaurs on the brain. On the first day of class I said that I ‘love SiFi’ and my Professor went off about how he hates when people use that term when talking about Science Fiction. He said that whenever he hears the genre referred to as SiFi it is usually in reference to how stupid, nerdy or unworthy it is as literature. Little does he know, I use the term with love and devotion. My favorite movie is Star Wars, Return of the Jedi. I have seen Jurassic Park more times than I can count. I was freaken Princess Leia for Halloween and ran around the streets of New York City in costume for most of the day for peat sake. Therefore, I shall continue to refer to my favorite genre of books, movies and media as SiFi. Professors don’t know everything.
Someone told me recently that they did not believe in Dinosaurs because they seem too big and fantastical to have ever existed. I can’t remember for the life of me who said that.
Here’s another guy I think of when I think of Dinosaurs;
“Life finds a way.”
I hope readers do not expect these blogs to ever have a point because I assure you they do not.
I am applying to grad schools, MFA programs to be specific, anyone else? Raise your hands high. It’s a pain, and I don’t think I will get in anywhere because the writing sample I am sending all my schools is a children’s story about magic. If the person who is reading my stuff happens to not like magic (if such a person exists), it’s all over. When I imagine actually being in grad school, incase I do get in, I can’t. It’s all too grown up to imagine. Too big. Larger than life. Like dinosaurs. Except I so believe in dinosaurs.
I am going to sleep. More later.
“And all that jazz.”