Here there be updates

Secret Updates. Hehe. I've neglected this for so long I wonder who even remembers it exists. I've spent most of my time on my tumblr since December (note the last date stamps on Journalistic luls) and I can't say I regret it. I love my tumblr. It's for my itty-bitty random thoughts. Fleeting, oh this is cool, or that's an awesome picture of a unicorn crushing ponies.

I Did Not Expect This To Be My Post:

I think that's why I pay attention to my tumblr more. It functions more like my brain, in fleeting moments. In scrapbook pictures of what I enjoy. In brief insights to the world around me. Flashes. It doesn't have to make sense, it's not as concrete as a "real" blog. A thought out blog with edits and you know, developed thoughts.

Then again, maybe it is more real. At least, it's probably more real for me. I don't have time to edit singular thoughts. If you give me more than 30 seconds to decide if somethings cool or worth posting, I will debate, ponder, and cater to the audience. It's not 'me' any more. Oh sure it's still my thought, but it's probably my thought tailored to the listener. "will he like it, will he think I'm crazy(er), will she hate me once she reads this" and so on and so forth. But then again, I normally just do shit any way and say screw all you people.

Sorry loves, but really, I don't particularly care what you think.

Now, back to the main point. I love my tumblr. But I won't abandon my blogger, savvy? (Yes, I watched pirates yesterday, and Yes, I am that easily influenced) Now why won't I abandon my blogger, after months of doing just that?

Well lets just call this winter cleaning. It's awfully snowy outside, and I have little better to do. Also because I'm stealing this 90 updates in 90 days thing from my crazy mag prof. (Yes, I did, in fact, call him 'my crazy mag prof' knowing full well there is a chance that he'll lurk the internets and find out what I've done)

It sounds like a good idea. I think I want to be a writer, so why shouldn't I write? We'll see. You and me internets. If I can't even write about one thing a day for 3 months, why should I pretend I'm a writer? At the very least, by the end of this 90 days, by the end of this semester, I should know if I really want to be a writer. Or if, you know, I've been wasting my time and need to go be a lawyer or something. Or if that doctor gig really was the way to go.

In any case, here's to 90 days internet. 90 (you see what I did there? I'm shirking AP style out of spite! spite I say! That's for canceling class, then un-canceling it, and then not even showing up you evil news lady you!) days of ramblings from yours truly.

Quote of the Day:

"Hi!... Sorry. Talking's probably not good right now is it?"

- Girl on my floor (after seeing my horrible sickly nasty snot face)