(no subject)
my two most favorite places to dance (aka: rock out) are in front of a mirror in my room pretending not to look at myself, and in the empty elevator. rocking out is especially kick-ass when your hair is as long as mine, and it smacks against your forehead.
since i stayed up all night, i tried writing, and boy am i a shitty-ass writer. shitty-ass. i really just need practice.
i got bored and decided to try and fix my computer again, but i only seem to make things worse for the poor thing. i wish that i could just wave some magic wand and take care of it. the most frustrating thing about a computer problem is that you have to work within the construct of the program or os. its not like a car, where you can use your hands to muscle the parts around, cut pieces free, and replace them with new ones. here, you have to navigate a labyrinth (spelling bee champion?) of menus and windows within the timelimit or else the fucker will crash and you get to start all over again. hell, most of the time there's nothing you can do to fix the problem but re-format, and seeing as how i've already tried that and it still hasn't fixed the bitch, it seems even that sort of bullying isn't practical or effective.
to pass the time while my computer was re-installing all the drivers (for the umteenth time), i pulled out an old binder and started reading ancient love-letters until i felt like a jerk. when it was all said and done, my computer was more fucked up than ever and i had resolved not to read old love letters for at least another month.
i'm starting to fix my posture so that i stand up straighter. i realized that i hunch all the time, and when i stand up straighter, i feel like i kick even more ass than usual (which is a lot of ass, indeed). i wish marion hadn't broken my sorta-new headphones.
people say "they'd take a bullet for me" when talking about their most loyal friends. to be honest, i don't want the kind of loyalty that takes bullets for me. should any bullets start flying, i don't want my friends leaping in front of me and taking shots meant for my chest. the kind of thankless, inglorious loyalty that i want my closest to posess is the sort that still visits you three years into your prison term and promises that we're going to have a cookout for a week straight when you're finally free again. anybody can take on some noble sacrafice in the name of friendship, but to stand beside somebody through extended adversity is the real test. i am either lucky or delusioned enough to think that my closest friends are of that sort.
since i stayed up all night, i tried writing, and boy am i a shitty-ass writer. shitty-ass. i really just need practice.
i got bored and decided to try and fix my computer again, but i only seem to make things worse for the poor thing. i wish that i could just wave some magic wand and take care of it. the most frustrating thing about a computer problem is that you have to work within the construct of the program or os. its not like a car, where you can use your hands to muscle the parts around, cut pieces free, and replace them with new ones. here, you have to navigate a labyrinth (spelling bee champion?) of menus and windows within the timelimit or else the fucker will crash and you get to start all over again. hell, most of the time there's nothing you can do to fix the problem but re-format, and seeing as how i've already tried that and it still hasn't fixed the bitch, it seems even that sort of bullying isn't practical or effective.
to pass the time while my computer was re-installing all the drivers (for the umteenth time), i pulled out an old binder and started reading ancient love-letters until i felt like a jerk. when it was all said and done, my computer was more fucked up than ever and i had resolved not to read old love letters for at least another month.
i'm starting to fix my posture so that i stand up straighter. i realized that i hunch all the time, and when i stand up straighter, i feel like i kick even more ass than usual (which is a lot of ass, indeed). i wish marion hadn't broken my sorta-new headphones.
people say "they'd take a bullet for me" when talking about their most loyal friends. to be honest, i don't want the kind of loyalty that takes bullets for me. should any bullets start flying, i don't want my friends leaping in front of me and taking shots meant for my chest. the kind of thankless, inglorious loyalty that i want my closest to posess is the sort that still visits you three years into your prison term and promises that we're going to have a cookout for a week straight when you're finally free again. anybody can take on some noble sacrafice in the name of friendship, but to stand beside somebody through extended adversity is the real test. i am either lucky or delusioned enough to think that my closest friends are of that sort.