May 7, 2002
Return of the Jedi
Woo-fucking-hoo. AOL is back and I am delighted to be a slave to the corporate fiends. In my brief flirtation with no internet access, I have been poring over Marian. And I have one thing to say.
Fuck the agents.
I am in love with this story, regardless as to being its creator. I don't know what there is about it. It's not particuraly good or insightful or revolutionary, there is just a certain something within its brief pages. Once completely edited, I am going to renew my quest for its publication.
You're jumping up and down, aren't you?
Yesterday was absolutely pathetic. Kelsi and I went toy shopping. And I must say, I am extremely disappointed by George Lucas and his male-oriented marketing. Does he not realize that Star Wars is a phenomenon surpassing gender? Why, then, does he insist on only making action figures of the characters? The Amidala action figure was a beast. Where is the Amidala barbie with an extensive wardrobe? I would clearly buy her.
Instead I purchased a Coruscant Escape Obi-Wan action figure (complete with blue light saber and assasin droid) and an Episode 2 colouring book. I am colouring sparingly, to say the least.
I'm a child. I am such a child.
I'm finally reading the last installment of Juliet Marillier's Sevenwaters Trilogy. Child of the Prophecy hasn't flipped my switch just yet, but I am going to trust that her unfailing genius will be just that. If I could be half the writer that she is, that any of my idols are, I could be happy. If I could make someone cry or laugh outloud by mere words on a page, I will truly have lived.
I want to be me in ten years. Maybe then I will be less unsure of everything, or sure of at least a few things.
Still need a cosigner for the loan. Will occupy me until I find one.
astera at 6:19 p.m.