Books
So many books...
Anyway, I'm finally done with that hellatious research paper. It's ten and a half pages long, and looks pretty and sounds good. I ended up having to cut my topic short; to talk about everything I would've wanted to talk about, I would have had to make the paper a good fifteen or twenty pages.
Tomorrow I get to face the Middle Egyptian final, which I'm not overly worried about. This is mostly the case because there is not really anything I can do at this point. If I don't do well, I don't do well. I can't change that now; that's the work of a quarter. I should be fine. I didn't finish the midterm and didn't even do the parsing on it; didn't have time. Still got a B-. So I'm not worried.
The Aristocratic Octopus (my a cappella group, for those of you not up on these sorts of things) has finally put out a CD! I just listened to the final cuts of it yesterday, and it sounds awesome. Matthias sound-teched it, and did a really great job. If you want a copy, let me know and I'll get ahold of one for you. You may have to pay me $5, but I think you can stomach that.
So, I'm still worried about this whole friend business... but you know, I figure it will probably work itself out one way or another and I should just stop worrying about it. At the same time, it makes me really reluctant to talk to the one friend I was having trouble with; I withdraw when I feel like people aren't happy with me. I'd like to call him and make sure things are okay, but that would make me feel worse about the whole situation, so I'll just hold off until he comes to me for whatever reason, and we'll just see where things stand. On the other hand, the fact that I'm not doing anything about this means that it's building up in my head as this intensely emotional thing which is far too overblown for what it is. Which, I suppose, is why I'm trying to forget about it. That way, it can't get worse, even if it doesn't get better. ::sigh::
Lastly, I've got a poem to post here. I was at Matthias' jazz concert (which, by the way, was incredible - our jazz x-tet here is awesome) and I was sort of spacing out to the extended suite. I was looking out the window of the 4th floor room we were in and I noticed a building off in the distance with one single light on. It really caught me, especially with the music going, so I decided to write about it. I don't think this poem is quite as refined as I'd like it to be, but it's still good, in my opinion.
What I Got out of That Jazz Concert, May 25 2006
There's a light on in a building far away
Only one lightbulb out of the thousands
Sucking on the wires that net under this city
Like blood vessels, or nerves
Or the roots of something vast and seething.
And I wonder where he is in all this
What beaten path is his every day
Or hers, maybe
And what does she come home to at night?
A pair of kids boisterously young
Or maybe
Nothing
But an open window and a waft of jazz
Carried on the wind
Out the window of the hall where I'm sitting
Like my thoughts carry
Out the window of the brain where I'm hiding
Through the cotton-soft lukewarm blackness
Of a muggy streetlit night.
The light may reach me
But the space between is impassable
Whoever sits in that room
Looks out that window
Feeling my thoughts without knowing they do
And wondering where that stray bit of sax came from
Will never cross the gap that's more than space.
And neither will I, and suddenly
It's just another window
And suddenly
The space between turns into
That noise section from a modern jazz piece
Pounding on my brain
And the universe skips a beat.
Then the melody starts again and I'm lost
Left somewhere behind, one foot, one thought
Still out the window
"Hey," he says. "There's a light on in that building over there."
"See?"
[EDIT] The line breaks aren't right in this... Every new line starts with a capital letter. Damn LJ and its narrow... um... ness...
Anyway, I'm finally done with that hellatious research paper. It's ten and a half pages long, and looks pretty and sounds good. I ended up having to cut my topic short; to talk about everything I would've wanted to talk about, I would have had to make the paper a good fifteen or twenty pages.
Tomorrow I get to face the Middle Egyptian final, which I'm not overly worried about. This is mostly the case because there is not really anything I can do at this point. If I don't do well, I don't do well. I can't change that now; that's the work of a quarter. I should be fine. I didn't finish the midterm and didn't even do the parsing on it; didn't have time. Still got a B-. So I'm not worried.
The Aristocratic Octopus (my a cappella group, for those of you not up on these sorts of things) has finally put out a CD! I just listened to the final cuts of it yesterday, and it sounds awesome. Matthias sound-teched it, and did a really great job. If you want a copy, let me know and I'll get ahold of one for you. You may have to pay me $5, but I think you can stomach that.
So, I'm still worried about this whole friend business... but you know, I figure it will probably work itself out one way or another and I should just stop worrying about it. At the same time, it makes me really reluctant to talk to the one friend I was having trouble with; I withdraw when I feel like people aren't happy with me. I'd like to call him and make sure things are okay, but that would make me feel worse about the whole situation, so I'll just hold off until he comes to me for whatever reason, and we'll just see where things stand. On the other hand, the fact that I'm not doing anything about this means that it's building up in my head as this intensely emotional thing which is far too overblown for what it is. Which, I suppose, is why I'm trying to forget about it. That way, it can't get worse, even if it doesn't get better. ::sigh::
Lastly, I've got a poem to post here. I was at Matthias' jazz concert (which, by the way, was incredible - our jazz x-tet here is awesome) and I was sort of spacing out to the extended suite. I was looking out the window of the 4th floor room we were in and I noticed a building off in the distance with one single light on. It really caught me, especially with the music going, so I decided to write about it. I don't think this poem is quite as refined as I'd like it to be, but it's still good, in my opinion.
What I Got out of That Jazz Concert, May 25 2006
There's a light on in a building far away
Only one lightbulb out of the thousands
Sucking on the wires that net under this city
Like blood vessels, or nerves
Or the roots of something vast and seething.
And I wonder where he is in all this
What beaten path is his every day
Or hers, maybe
And what does she come home to at night?
A pair of kids boisterously young
Or maybe
Nothing
But an open window and a waft of jazz
Carried on the wind
Out the window of the hall where I'm sitting
Like my thoughts carry
Out the window of the brain where I'm hiding
Through the cotton-soft lukewarm blackness
Of a muggy streetlit night.
The light may reach me
But the space between is impassable
Whoever sits in that room
Looks out that window
Feeling my thoughts without knowing they do
And wondering where that stray bit of sax came from
Will never cross the gap that's more than space.
And neither will I, and suddenly
It's just another window
And suddenly
The space between turns into
That noise section from a modern jazz piece
Pounding on my brain
And the universe skips a beat.
Then the melody starts again and I'm lost
Left somewhere behind, one foot, one thought
Still out the window
"Hey," he says. "There's a light on in that building over there."
"See?"
[EDIT] The line breaks aren't right in this... Every new line starts with a capital letter. Damn LJ and its narrow... um... ness...