My eyeballs are too long.
According to my psychology textbook, people with myopia (nearsightedness) have eyeballs that are so freakin' long that when they stare at something the image goes crazy and misses the retina or goes behind it. Something like that.
All I can say is, I thought everything about me was short.
I finished editing my ten minute play today, which I cleverly called Egress. Thank you, Mr. Eynon (my AP English Lit teacher. He had a set of rules, one of which was "place your backpacks under the desk in order to facilitate ingress and egress"). No, really. Thanks, because up until twelfth grade, I thought that an Egress was a type of exotic bird.
Today I bought a book at the bookstore (NO!!!! Existential DOUBT!!) entitled "The Career Guide for Creative and Unconventional People".
When I spotted it across the room, I could only read "Creative and Unconventional People" and I was like, damn right you're unconventional if you can transform yourself into a book. Like, whoah.
And when I brought it back to my room, it insisted on testing gravity by jumping off my bed every time I moved (I had a lot of stuff on my bed). So I guess it is kinda unconventional. Then again, I just looked at it now and read "The Career Guide for Creative and Unintentional People." Ooops! Mom didn't use birth control.
Also, I learned today that Sergei Eisenstein (remember him? The penis guy?) directed a production of Die Valkure in Russia. I was like, ????
Wagner and Eisenstein go together like Lady Catherine de Berg and Soviet sex toys.
Take my word for it.