Lots of formatting; not much content.
I spent last night trying to find room #644 in my new dorm. It was incredibly frustrating; the rooms weren't numbered sequentially, for one thing, and the first digit didn't seem to correlate to the floor number in all cases. When I finally found it, there were a couple of people already living there, based on the bedding wadded on various raised wooden platforms. Sure, it was huge, in a weird, maze-like way, with lots of windows, but inhabited space doesn't count against claustrophobia. I knew immediately I was in for a long semester.
Nightmares suck.
Yesterday was an interesting one for communication with strangers. For the record, I also had serious conversations with Nina and, of all people, Peter. Those don't translate so well to flippant LJ updates, though, so let's get back to the random. Amusingly, they are both named Drew.
Drew 1 is the OKC'er I mentioned last time in the context of "people who make me nervous". So check it out. We're talking about IM clients:
Him: Use Gaim!
Him: :)
Him: and meet me for sex
Him: ...err...
Him: coffee
galadriel58: You won't ever get any sex out of me, you know.
galadriel58: You should be out there, exploring less disinterested options.
Him: No more sexual pestering?
galadriel58: It won't work, is all I'm saying.
Him: I'm not sure that I entirely believe you. Should I?
galadriel58: You really should. I've never had sex; I'm not looking for sex partners.
galadriel58: Ergo, you won't be getting any here. QED.
Him: Hmm
Him: I see your point
Him: But I can still try to seduce you, right?
galadriel58: If you want to convince me we're looking for two very different things.
galadriel58: Which, after all, we seem to be.
He is away at 10:06:39 AM.
And that, I do believe, will have been the end of that.
Drew 2 has also appeared before, back on the Ides of March. He is the artist/musician behind Toothpaste for Dinner, and to him belongs the credit for this third avatar. I read through his site FAQ, and wasn't quite sure if avatars were fair use, so I shot him an e-mail, ending with the meek "I know you are busy, and this is a silly request; if I don't hear from you, I won't use your image, but I'll continue to appreciate your site. If you're okay with it, on the other hand, you can just send back an empty message or an 'asdf' or something. I'll interpret."
I logged in the next day to find two messages:
#1.
#2. "just kidding.
people on livejournal use my art all the time w/o asking so i
think you will be ok"
Anyone who didn't find both of those funny in one way or another should probably quit now, because this entry doesn't get any more intelli-gent/-gible. My apologies.
For some reason I got Fastball's "The Way" stuck in my head this morning, despite the undeniable facts that I haven't heard it in ages, and don't currently own (..."have") a copy of it. There are a lot of songs in that category (songs I have had but have no longer), and they all lurk on the fringes of my conscious mind. It's an odd feeling to be aware of having lost a song without quite knowing which song it is I'm almost thinking of. I seem to have really liked some of them, is the annoying part: but what were they? I was reminded once again of the necessity of frequent back-ups. Otherwise you lose mp3s and move to another state and your school network is smart enough to block all your favorite p2p programs, and you have to hum unrequitedly.
On the other hand, I remembered a couple of songs I love to sing, but hadn't sung recently. So while boiling water this afternoon I took a few moments to serenade the living room with "God Bless the Child" and "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend", both of which can be sung in an alto register. I got to thinking about what exactly I mean by "alto" when I refer to myself, because I sing pretty damn low when given the chance. Not, however, as low as that one guy on lead vocals for the Crash Test Dummies, but then he's kind of a parody of himself, like a stoner James Earl Jones.
Pretty bad comparison, eh? Well, I refuse to fix it. Enjoy.
It turns out, incidentally, that "The Way" is based on a true story, a story that involves a Winnebago. Aaron said so, and Google backed him up. On the internet? Must be true. Let us now consider the twin models of aging offered in "The Way" and the Crash Test Dummies's "Afternoons and Coffeespoons", as best I remember them:
"...the road that they walk on is paved with gold,
It's always summer, they'll never get cold;
Never be hungry, they'll never be old and grey..."
vs.
"Someday I'll have a disappearing hairline,
Someday I'll wear pajamas in the daytime;
Afternoons will be measured out
(Measured out) Measured with coffee spoons."
I give the latter 3 points for the Eliot shout-out, plus 2 for the lines - not included above - "I've watched a summer evening pass by / I've heard the rattle in my bronchi" -- and myself FIVE HUNDRED MILLION if I managed to get "The Way" stuck in your head. It gets lonely in this here misery, kids.
Speaking of friendship, la_zumo and I have had a... thing of some kind going this week, as you can see if you trouble yourself to link here and then here. I'm running out of threatening kitten pictures, though; while I work on plotting a new angle of attack, I offer the following halfhearted slam.
galadriel58: In the event of an epic battle between the two, do you see yourself as more of a crab or a hamster? The hamsters have helmets.
SBchicle54: i hate exoskeletons, so hamster
galadriel58: ...
galadriel58: I can't believe you could answer that question, much less support it with a reason.
SBchicle54: you asked!
galadriel58: Yes, I certainly did.
Drew 2, would you take it from here?
Right.
, I guess.
All of that is but an excuse to send you to the archives at Shaw Island; skip right to here, though. If you like (or hate; any emotion will do) genocide, the UN, or hamsters in tanks, you should already have stopped reading and clicked the link. Don't worry; the storyline you're reading is pretty short.
Oh, right. I went to class today and learned a bit about Pushkin. More importantly, I got some of the back story from Stefka on her current issues with the INS. Suffice it to say she's fluent in English, she's married to an American, and she has a guaranteed income as a grad student, yet she's drowning in visa crap. And until it gets sorted out, the university can't legally pay her stipend. Did I mention the full drafts of our major papers are due on Wednesday? And today was payday (for stipend kiddies), and she kinda didn't get paid? Again? Luckily she already smokes, so she didn't have to take it up and come down with bronchitis on top of everything else. Still, a good candidate for Team RAGE.
On a lighter note, Rick and I stood out by the rock and shot the shit for about an hour after class. Today, even more than usual, he was dressed like a retired European rock star, or a pitch-perfect homosexual parody of one. Not concert attire, you understand, but with that distinctive "I'm so rich and famous that I can have ridiculous shaggy hair and favor aggressively slim-cut jeans and pop the collar on this oxford and top it all off with a camel blazer and glasses with yellow lenses and an iPod, and yet standing here chain-smoking I don't look a bit like a fashion victim. Just the opposite, in fact, even if I do have visible chest hair" flair. His outfits are a treat, in that they always seem to be referring to something outside themselves.
You're still kinda humming it, aren't you? If you are, that's so great.
Nightmares suck.
Yesterday was an interesting one for communication with strangers. For the record, I also had serious conversations with Nina and, of all people, Peter. Those don't translate so well to flippant LJ updates, though, so let's get back to the random. Amusingly, they are both named Drew.
Drew 1 is the OKC'er I mentioned last time in the context of "people who make me nervous". So check it out. We're talking about IM clients:
Him: Use Gaim!
Him: :)
Him: and meet me for sex
Him: ...err...
Him: coffee
galadriel58: You won't ever get any sex out of me, you know.
galadriel58: You should be out there, exploring less disinterested options.
Him: No more sexual pestering?
galadriel58: It won't work, is all I'm saying.
Him: I'm not sure that I entirely believe you. Should I?
galadriel58: You really should. I've never had sex; I'm not looking for sex partners.
galadriel58: Ergo, you won't be getting any here. QED.
Him: Hmm
Him: I see your point
Him: But I can still try to seduce you, right?
galadriel58: If you want to convince me we're looking for two very different things.
galadriel58: Which, after all, we seem to be.
He is away at 10:06:39 AM.
And that, I do believe, will have been the end of that.
Drew 2 has also appeared before, back on the Ides of March. He is the artist/musician behind Toothpaste for Dinner, and to him belongs the credit for this third avatar. I read through his site FAQ, and wasn't quite sure if avatars were fair use, so I shot him an e-mail, ending with the meek "I know you are busy, and this is a silly request; if I don't hear from you, I won't use your image, but I'll continue to appreciate your site. If you're okay with it, on the other hand, you can just send back an empty message or an 'asdf' or something. I'll interpret."
I logged in the next day to find two messages:
#1.
#2. "just kidding.
people on livejournal use my art all the time w/o asking so i
think you will be ok"
Anyone who didn't find both of those funny in one way or another should probably quit now, because this entry doesn't get any more intelli-gent/-gible. My apologies.
For some reason I got Fastball's "The Way" stuck in my head this morning, despite the undeniable facts that I haven't heard it in ages, and don't currently own (..."have") a copy of it. There are a lot of songs in that category (songs I have had but have no longer), and they all lurk on the fringes of my conscious mind. It's an odd feeling to be aware of having lost a song without quite knowing which song it is I'm almost thinking of. I seem to have really liked some of them, is the annoying part: but what were they? I was reminded once again of the necessity of frequent back-ups. Otherwise you lose mp3s and move to another state and your school network is smart enough to block all your favorite p2p programs, and you have to hum unrequitedly.
On the other hand, I remembered a couple of songs I love to sing, but hadn't sung recently. So while boiling water this afternoon I took a few moments to serenade the living room with "God Bless the Child" and "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend", both of which can be sung in an alto register. I got to thinking about what exactly I mean by "alto" when I refer to myself, because I sing pretty damn low when given the chance. Not, however, as low as that one guy on lead vocals for the Crash Test Dummies, but then he's kind of a parody of himself, like a stoner James Earl Jones.
Pretty bad comparison, eh? Well, I refuse to fix it. Enjoy.
It turns out, incidentally, that "The Way" is based on a true story, a story that involves a Winnebago. Aaron said so, and Google backed him up. On the internet? Must be true. Let us now consider the twin models of aging offered in "The Way" and the Crash Test Dummies's "Afternoons and Coffeespoons", as best I remember them:
"...the road that they walk on is paved with gold,
It's always summer, they'll never get cold;
Never be hungry, they'll never be old and grey..."
vs.
"Someday I'll have a disappearing hairline,
Someday I'll wear pajamas in the daytime;
Afternoons will be measured out
(Measured out) Measured with coffee spoons."
I give the latter 3 points for the Eliot shout-out, plus 2 for the lines - not included above - "I've watched a summer evening pass by / I've heard the rattle in my bronchi" -- and myself FIVE HUNDRED MILLION if I managed to get "The Way" stuck in your head. It gets lonely in this here misery, kids.
Speaking of friendship, la_zumo and I have had a... thing of some kind going this week, as you can see if you trouble yourself to link here and then here. I'm running out of threatening kitten pictures, though; while I work on plotting a new angle of attack, I offer the following halfhearted slam.
galadriel58: In the event of an epic battle between the two, do you see yourself as more of a crab or a hamster? The hamsters have helmets.
SBchicle54: i hate exoskeletons, so hamster
galadriel58: ...
galadriel58: I can't believe you could answer that question, much less support it with a reason.
SBchicle54: you asked!
galadriel58: Yes, I certainly did.
Drew 2, would you take it from here?
Right.
, I guess.
All of that is but an excuse to send you to the archives at Shaw Island; skip right to here, though. If you like (or hate; any emotion will do) genocide, the UN, or hamsters in tanks, you should already have stopped reading and clicked the link. Don't worry; the storyline you're reading is pretty short.
Oh, right. I went to class today and learned a bit about Pushkin. More importantly, I got some of the back story from Stefka on her current issues with the INS. Suffice it to say she's fluent in English, she's married to an American, and she has a guaranteed income as a grad student, yet she's drowning in visa crap. And until it gets sorted out, the university can't legally pay her stipend. Did I mention the full drafts of our major papers are due on Wednesday? And today was payday (for stipend kiddies), and she kinda didn't get paid? Again? Luckily she already smokes, so she didn't have to take it up and come down with bronchitis on top of everything else. Still, a good candidate for Team RAGE.
On a lighter note, Rick and I stood out by the rock and shot the shit for about an hour after class. Today, even more than usual, he was dressed like a retired European rock star, or a pitch-perfect homosexual parody of one. Not concert attire, you understand, but with that distinctive "I'm so rich and famous that I can have ridiculous shaggy hair and favor aggressively slim-cut jeans and pop the collar on this oxford and top it all off with a camel blazer and glasses with yellow lenses and an iPod, and yet standing here chain-smoking I don't look a bit like a fashion victim. Just the opposite, in fact, even if I do have visible chest hair" flair. His outfits are a treat, in that they always seem to be referring to something outside themselves.
You're still kinda humming it, aren't you? If you are, that's so great.