Stress Release. Boom.

I’m feeling a little intimidated considering all the response I got for my last post. Don’t get me wrong, I love a little ego stroking, but I’m not used to it or great at handling it.

A few hours ago I submitted my application and required documents to a teaching position at Arizona State University. I’m kind of fishing. Not that I wouldn’t be ecstatic to work there, but, like I said before, I’m also working on an application to SDSU. Those are kind of the only things I’m applying for currently; they’re the only places accepting apps for anything for Fall semester. I’ll do some more for Winter/Spring. I hate asking professors to write letters of recommendations, though. I feel like I’m groveling, which I am, and that I’m really bothering, which I am, too. It’s a necessary evil that I hate someone made necessary.

I’ve gotten into something I’m a little ashamed of. As a prologue, though, about a week and a half ago, in my braided essay seminar, we went around the room introducing ourselves and our current fetish (my idea, I was surprised my professor took it). Fetish doesn’t necessarily have to mean anything sexual, in fact, many people talked about how particular foods were their current fetish/obsession. Don’t be gross. Although, there is that weirdness chefs and cooks have about describing their food with sexual terms. Sicks me out, is what it does. Anyway, that day I said that vampires are and always have been my fetish. It’s true, but I couldn’t think of anything better. If asked now, though, I have a good and embarrassing answer: fanfiction. Not infanfiction, in general. There’s a particular webcomic posted via deviantart (a delightful site for artists to share their work) done by stressedjenny about her original characters Mias and Elle. Her art is very sweet and quite lovely, but the fanfiction is kind of awful. Not to cruelly slam these writers, they’re young and passionate; they’re just working on their own styles of writing. So, I understand because I’ve been there (though, I’ve never tried my hand at fanfics). For me, I guess, it’s a lot like “wholesome” romance literature. The stuff never gets overly sexual, but what is there is enough, if you catch my meaning. It’s not over the top and nasty–bad, grodey nasty. I think I’d prefer it if the artist would continue her comic rather than let other people take over the story. I don’t want to be perceived as mean in anyway to any of these artists. They’re doing something I don’t have the guts to do.

Also, a crappy, but sincere Happy Birthday to my favorite writer, Edgar Allan Poe. I first got a taste for his writing from the first Simpsons‘ “Treehouse of Horror” and now I’m a complete freak for all things creepy and papercutty. To Poe: You’ve damaged me in a wonderful way, you incredible freak.

“For Annie”

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