Sarcastic to a fault and an undercover optimist, this is the weird little world that is my life. For some reason and in spite of being really boring, all kinds of wonderful, funny things happen to me. This is my writing experiment. How it’ll turn out or what I’m trying to do, I’ll find out somewhere along the way.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Movies, Activism and Boredom

I'm watching GI Joe, Rise of the Cobra and I'm trying to remember when I saw it. This is all very familiar, I know I've seen it, can't remember when, or where. I mustn't have been very impressed.

Other than that, I hung out with some girls I was friends with before BEd. They both happen to be in BEd programs now, but that's beside the point. We all worked on the... how to phrase it... non-heterosexual awareness for teachers seminar we're planning. We got quite a bit done. The plan is in place. We just have to make it look pretty, pitch it to the dean, get approval, get funding, confirm one more speaker, book a room and hold it. Oh! and get people to come. Easy peasy.

That's the only productive thing I did today. Since a retelling of my boring day would be boring, I think borrowing the words of Jack Prelutsky is entirely justified. For those people a least my age, maybe a bit younger, I first learned about his poetry on Arthur. I learned many things from Arthur, the most important of which was how to spell aardvark and nervous. I hope you enjoy the poem as much as I did when I first heard it.

It s a very boring day
There is nothing much to look at,
There is nothing much to say,
There s a peacock on my sneakers,
There s a penguin on my head,
There s a dormouse on my doorstep,
I am going back to bed.

Today is very boring,
It is boring through and through,
There is absolutely nothing
That I think I want to do,
I see giants riding rhinos,
And an ogre with a sword,
There s a dragon blowing smoke rings,
I am positively bored.

Today is very boring,
I can hardly help but yawn,
There s a flying saucer landing
In the middle of my lawn,
A volcano just erupted
Less than half a mile away,
And I think I felt an earthquake,
It s a very boring day.
 
Again, this is by Jack Prelutsky. Not me. I don't write poetry because I respect poetry as an art form.
 
Lauren.

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