...In which our heroine looks ahead.

I have survived dear readers. As of today, I'm no longer deemed contagious by Columbia College and back in my dorm. Which was a total fucking mess when I returned thanks to my ever-delightful roommate. Alas, I am feeling better by the day, and honestly just want to get back to all of my classes at this point and start playing catch-up.

I register for the classes tomorrow that will make me a junior, which seems terribly odd. In a 5AM fever delirium I figured out a loose plan for the next couple of years: Continue majoring in Screenwriting, minor in Women and Gender Studies. Second semester senior year, go to LA and see if I can sell a script or get an internship before graduating. If I can't, I'm going to join Americorps and go to either Seattle or California, spend a year doing that and living, maybe applying to grad schools. It all sounds easy laid out as such, but I'm sure there will be a bunch of delightful speed bumps along the way.

Speaking of growing up, I am being pretty lame considering in three days I won't be a teenager anymore and won't have as much leniency for bad behavior. Stupid flu. I bitched a lot about 19 being a boring age, but it has by far been the most amazing, beautiful, creative, heartbreaking, stressful, and sad year of my life. I've grown in ways I can't explain, and some I can. I fell in and out of love, was wildly creative, adjusted to living in a big city and away from home, expanded my consciousness through methods legal and otherwise, and most of all decided what it is I'm meant to do in this life - at least I hope so. 20 sounds so old! Where does the time ago - I saw a commerical for the tenth anniversary of "...Baby One More Time" and nearly puked.

I am deeply embedded with the citizens of Twin Peaks. The first season is as perfect as television gets, and oh so wonderfully weird. I can't believe it was broadcast on network back in the day. The whole idea that a single mystery can bind twenty plus hours of a story is brilliant. And all this praise comes knowing even what the outcome of the show would be. Speaking of perfect television, Mad Men's season finale was fabulous. After a slooow season, Matthew Weiner amped up the stakes. I've come to realize that I hate Betty Draper with a fiery passion. It was nice to see subtle moments of character development for Don, Peggy, Pete, Harry, and Roger. Oh, and JOAN IS BACK, BITCHES. I was so glad to see her in her mod 'lil black pants and sweater-set, looking fierce as always. I also realized there are at least four people on Mad Men I'd make out with, now that's good TV! Something about television has appealed much more than film to me lately, maybe it's the Production II blues, but I really like the short-form and how well the nuances of character can be explored.

On a final note, I thank my grandfather and all the veterans for their service today. I can't imagine how much worse the horrors he saw in WWII were than what he actually told us about. Though I may not always agree with the cause, I'll always support the men and women who are willing to sacrifice and dedicate their lives to support it. Thanks, veterans, for doing something I never would or could.

I couldn't find an acceptable video of Neil Young's "War of Man" so this'll have to do.