Oh yes, I'm stressed, I'm sorry, I digress

[rainshaded]

Best. All-Nighter. Ever.

Comments

[elliptic-eye.livejournal.com]

Okay, now I have to know what subject you were studying such that you came out of it compulsively rhyming.

[rainshaded]

I was doing my Critical Commentary for my Creative Folder, 1500 words on three pieces of my writing that totaled 1500 words, well, four counting the mini-saga of 50 words I quickly wrote because I needed another prose piece to demonstrate variety within a genre and had 69 words to spare up to the maximum (allowed 10% either way). I'm really rather pleased with how it came out, being only a half-drabble!

Dan then copied my idea and wrote a mini-saga. That was fine, even though he took the subject from me, he has a very angry/brutal/depressing style, fully discussed in his commentary, and it turned out completely different to mine. Not so fine when, when proof-reading and editing his commentary, I discover he's said every single thing about a mini-saga that I did.
Interested in the challenge of having only fifty words? Check.
That form forced me to make sure that every word was absolutely necessary? Check.
Something I'm not sure I achieved in the other pieces? Check.
I had to edit ruthlessly? Check.
At least I had a bit of stuff specific to mine. But when I'm already worried that Turnitin is going to go alert and get my tutor to ask me why a piece is very very similar to what's been posted on the Internet under the name of agapi42, too many plagiarism worries, already!

Jodi was doing her business report and I proof-read and corrected a lot for her. Dan's promised to cook me a proper meal in return for my editorial skills. Something not a jacket potato, yay! Apparently I could make a bit doing that; I did see someone advertising proof-reading for £10 the first time, reasonable rates after, but I dunno, it's one thing doing my friends a favour but that's another.

At school, I became the library's (un)official proof-reader, with tasks ranging from reading the Personal Statement of anyone who asked for help (Ask Mrs Bellingham, and ye shall be referred to the Sixth Former) to pointing out to the twins that it was completely and utterly obvious they'd copied and pasted the body of their homework from the Internet; it had complex sentence structure and correct spelling, punctuation and grammar which was a contrast to the two book-ending paragraphs.

(My school needs to stop taking girls on their maths scores, with English as only a tie-breaker. The amount of girls incapable of reading signs is incredible: Mrs Bellingham isn't here, no, I can't sell you tickets, she'll be here at lunchtime and you've ignored three signs telling you that; one on the door you pushed open to come in, one on the desk in front of you and one on the wall behind you and this is unrelated and I'm rambling.)

Anyway, the rhyme is a quote from 'Everyday I Love You Less and Less' by the Kaiser Chiefs. The Jack/YoSaffBridge from Firefly fanmix had just finished and this is the next album so we were singing along to it and suddenly there was this line and it was so perfect for us at that moment.
It's the third lyric of the night; the second was a reinterpretation of some Bloc Party lyrics "red pill, blue pill" became "whacked-out pretty girl" and the first one has been lost to a night of sugar and caffeine, but we remember that it was hilarious, although that might just have been the sugar and caffeine.

And this is a hideously long comment to reply to a one-sentence comment, apologies. Can I blame the lingering sugar?