. . . . . entries for 27.2.06 . . . . .
So I've been having this religious discussion with a 14-year-old doctrinaire Christian on Gaia. It's very interesting. Among other things, he takes the Bible literally and has "proof of God." It's cute. A belief like that, irrational and contradictory, *is* the power of Christianity. Maybe not the intended power or the right power or the only power, but it seems to be the most prevalent power today.
The caffeine makes me think faster, and it makes me like life more. :)
So what I meant to say was this:
I am overwhelmed by an idea of W's.
If Woodrow Wilson had heard the song War on War by Wilco. . . what would he have thought of it?
Just assembled a very approximate soundtrack to my life. There are 74 songs on it. It runs a bit less than five hours.
Aaaaand I have ten thousand tons of homework so I am going to stop poncing upon The Big Questions now. >.o
I think some things stay the same:
The problem, as ever, is essentially with my pride.
You scored as Lawful Good. A lawful good person acts as a good person is expected or required to act. They are dedicated to upholding both what is right and what is set down in law.
What is your Alignment? created with QuizFarm.com |
I took this a while ago. My results have changed somewhat. I can deal. :P
In the past year or so, my life has become inestimably more complicated.
This is an outrage. I may actually be growing up. This is disgusting.
. . . . . entries for 26.2.06 . . . . .
It is sad that it took me this long to write my German valentine. :P
Hm. I appear to have a little black dress.
School tomorrow.
. . .
. . .
Ew.
. . . . . entries for 25.2.06 . . . . .
I am remarkably bad at burning the candle at both ends.
It is strange how things change.
. . . you'd *think* I'd have realized this prior to this past week. o.O
Oh Erin, what are you scheming?
. . . so how would one:
a) host obscure but awesome music on the 'net, and
b) put that music on one's blog/myspace/whateverthehell for the surfer's listening pleasure?
I wonder if the whole "living for my future" thing is a turnoff to people. I wonder if people get it - furthermore, I wonder if *I* get it.
But even if I think nothing I'll do in my future will move mountains or hills or sad little piles of sand, that thought passes quickly, because I have a funny sort of conviction. Maybe it makes no sense, but whatever I'd be doing otherwise wouldn't make sense either.
People without conviction are boring, and people who make sense are even MORE boring.
So by my own definition I'm pretty fucking thrilling. :P
Hm. . . Chicago. Tufts. St. John's. American.
I am basically uninterested in colleges that are basically uninterested in me.
Oh SNAP, I forgot the important news.
I advanced to the interview stage for United World College applicants. This is pretty awesome, since now I have a 2/5 chance of getting in - *significantly* better than the 1/6 I had before. xD
Mm, Wales.
Cas leaves today, so it is back to APUSHing for me. No more playing as Macbeth in The Sims 2. xD Oh man. That was fun while it lasted.
It is snowing, and Cas intended to leave at noon, but may have to put it off for social reasons. Ha to her social reasons. It is a long drive, better taken *not* in several inches of snow.
Incoherent? Perhaps. I have a down comforter now, though. So I am okay. *Everything* is okay. ^.^ ::snugs::
. . . . . entries for 24.2.06 . . . . .
A year and a half is a long time, but not long enough.
The woman who just won the women's ice skating in the Olympics looks kind of like a really athletically built Rosemary Hirota-Morris. She is also incredibly adorable when happy.
So yes, I am home. Home am I. Cas is also here. There is something in my eye. I wish I knew what it was, and how to get it out. You know? Yeah. You know.
. . . . . entries for 22.2.06 . . . . .
I was unimpressed with Georgetown, possibly because they made no effort to impress me. I want to feel cherished by my college, damn it. I don't want to be another shiny statistic, I want to be a human being who is valued.
I do not think Georgetown is on the top of my list o' schools anymore.
I am in Alexandria now, but tomorrow I will be in Annapolis, and in the evening I will be back in Niskayuna.
Apparently, Martin the linguist and I are actually the same age (19). This is an interesting development. :P Har har har.
. . . . . entries for 21.2.06 . . . . .
I hope I do not get Cassie sick. :(
. . . . . entries for 20.2.06 . . . . .
Observing a lack of blog-clutter, I took this quiz:
Clarinet - Clear and ranging in volume, your tone
is beautiful and you *never* miss a rythm.
you are something of a perfectionist and some
people might even call you annoying.
What musical instument do you / should you play?
brought to you by Quizilla
I am a little disappointed - I wanted to get "oboe" and amaze Ellen. xD
Fact: Neil Gaiman likes the Magnetic Fields.
Yeah. Oh, yeah.
Have I mentioned how much I love Farin Urlaub lately?
Revision: I am definitely flying down to D.C. tomorrow. Plane leaves at four in the afternoon. Wahoo.
So busy.
Got back from Harvard slightly before midnight last night. It is around twelve hours later, after sleep and breakfast, and I blog!
Throughout the car ride home I had "What a Wonderful World" stuck in my head. This is Greg Burke's fault. Curse you, Greg. ::shakes fist:: Greg is my hero anyway, for one reason and one reason only: bears.
So yes, no one on the Niskayuna team got to elims, and as always, this was mostly due to the error of judges, and not our debators - bullshit as much as anything, but whatever. My last two rounds, both losses, I believe, *were* kinda sketchy, but eeeeh. It was a good time overall.
Belle's OI piece = freaking amazing, and remarkably well-suited to her personality. I am impressed.
So now I have a little bit of a sore throat and related yuck. I may fly down to D.C. this week for fun, frolicking and Georgetown. Hopefully I will feel less icky by then.
. . . . . entries for 17.2.06 . . . . .
Dear God Almighty, I need to be back at the school in less than two hours. THIS IS TOTALLY RIDICULOUS. Going to Cambridge tonight, rounds start tomorrow, and god *damn* I am sleeeeeeeeepy.
Be back on Monday, possibly very late Sunday. May be going to Washington later this week.
NO REST FOR THE WICKED.
. . . . . entries for 15.2.06 . . . . .
Bright side: somehow or other, my only homework is in Latin. :)
This is *such* bullshit. Apparently I can't go to Harvard in JV unless I pose as a JV kid, and a JV kid poses as me. If we got caught doing it (i.e. if either of us broke to elims), we'd have to pay a fine for breaking the rules of the goddamn tournament. That is ridiculous. I cannot believe this. I am also *stuck* going to the damn thing at this point; there is no way for me to back out.
I was just getting to be less bloody miserable. This is *ridiculous.* I feel like killing something.
. . . . . entries for 14.2.06 . . . . .
This is also guaranteed to make you smile no matter how bad your day was.
Tango Proschaj: good for any mood. Same with political ancestors, literal and figurative. Oh Teddy, what will we do with you and your American imperialist ways? *Why* did you have to start that fad?
So I'm going to Harvard after all, but in JV, so I *might* not get my ass kicked. Word to that. -.-
SO MUCH HOMEWORK I AM GOING TO DIE.
Aaaand no matter how much my ear bleeds, I *still* have ten tons of homework. Yes indeed.
"Killing time on Valentine's, waiting for the day to end."
Rrg. Dr. Duff stabbed my ear canal in an attempt to remove stubborn wax. It *hurts.* I am not going into school. He says I don't have an ear infection but I don't believe him. He's an *idiot.*
As if I really needed another *stupid* thing going wrong.
Icing on the cake: a chapter of APUSH and a shitload of chem homework tonight. I don't think I've ever hated life this much before.
Not going to school this morning due to my goddamn EARACHE returning. I have an appointment at 11:40 to get it checked out.
This week = hell.
. . . . . entries for 13.2.06 . . . . .
I am not going to Harvard this weekend because, by the time this weekend rolls around, I will want to die and *not* want to argue about eminent domain. Grargh.
Tomorrow there is a math competition at 7:00 in the morning. I would have to be suicidal to attend this. Sleep is too valuable, and I have so much work this week that, as I said above, I will, in fact, want to die by Friday.
Oh sweet Jesus on a fractal, this is entertaining.
Aaaaand iPod is dead. Again.
So. Much. Crap. To do. This week. Gah.
. . . . . entries for 12.2.06 . . . . .
And once again, Erin Sherman demonstrates her amazing lack of ability to focus.
When I woke up this morning, I had an earache. I have never had one of these before. It is mostly gone, though, due to TheraFlu and other handy remedies.
I also had a dream that I got called in for an interview by UWC. I hope this is one of those prescient dreams of mine. :P
. . . . . entries for 11.2.06 . . . . .
Went 2-3 at Scarsdale. I could've done better, but then again, I could've done worse. I was sleepy (no afternoon nap!) and it was, you know, my first time in varsity. At Scarsdale. Yeah.
So defeated as I may be, I still felt like an Olympic skiier coming down the slopes as I was walking upstairs. In some twisted little way, I am, by the by, victorious. (And I may even be getting leg muscles! Whoohoo!)
Also: some people just upset me.
. . . . . entries for 9.2.06 . . . . .
SO DONE WITH THIS CASE
WHEE
I CAN DO IT, DAMN IT
I CAN FINISH THIS AMAZING NEG CASE
Damn, I would rather be sleeping.
And I reiterate:
I know ladies who want high-quality
arm candy for prom.
You want to be a lady's arm candy, don't you? Yes. Yes you do.
Tango is sexy.
I was in a surpassingly good mood all day today, which I blame on my atypical mode of dress, which included my gray corduroys, my blue stripey legwarmers (on my arms), my massive gray hoodie, and a bright blue bandana. It was somewhat Gaia-esque, or so I'm told.
Tonight is debate night. I was looking forward to this until I got home. Harum.
. . . . . entries for 8.2.06 . . . . .
I lied: I must write *two* new neg cases (and probably beef up my aff, too). Tomorrow night I will sink into debate nerd mode, perhaps NEVER AGAIN TO EMERGE RAR.
Also going to Harvard the first weekend and Monday of February break (i.e. the weekend after this coming one), because I cannot be nerdy enough. No, no I cannot.
Going to both tournaments Varsity because Ankur thought I should? It's nonsense and I'll get whipped, but it'll be entertaining. I plan to hit on Matt Shields at every opportunity. xD Mwahaha!
Report card day. Yawn. :P A B might be pleasant for purposes of variety one of these days. (I'd be less of an arrogant bitchista, too.)
On a much more interesting note: ten tons of APUSH reading! And a debate meeting! And I should really start research for my Shieldsish neg! Mmyes. Erin is *excited* about a debate case. That *never* happens.
. . . . . entries for 7.2.06 . . . . .
You are: Kelly Clarkson. A little bit rock chick, a
little bit pop princess, your style is
eclectic and unpredictable. You are a loyal
friend and even when you're making it bog,
you don't forget your friends who've stuck by
you.
Which Female Singer are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
All right, well, the "eclectic" bit is right, anyway. :P
Thumbelina soundtrack? YES. Absofreakinglutely.
I am an enormous nerd, indeed. :P People have figured out I'll talk to them if they bring up debate, because I have to. Meeeeh. Scarscale Friday. o.O ::writes on hand:: Must tell teachers. No rest for the wicked.
Reminder to myself: RETOOL YOUR NEG CASE BECAUSE IT WILL ROCK YOOOOOU. YES.
. . . . . entries for 6.2.06 . . . . .
I have had this blog for almost four YEARS.
What in the world is wrong with me?
A nerd? A prolific schoolwork-poster? Not *I,* said the Erin. Certainly not I.
The following is written concerning the article "What Is a Living Wage?" by Jon Gertner, released January 15th, 2006. Look it up on Google or something if you want to know what I'm rambling about - that, or steal the copy of someone in Bloom's APUSH class, or just ask him about it.
"I have never been to Santa Fe, but I have two definite associations with the city: first of all, one of the two St. John’s College campuses is in Santa Fe. The other campus is in Annapolis, Maryland, and I know from personal experience that this other state capital is classy to almost unhealthy extremes. Second, the United States branch of the United World College is located in Montezuma, New Mexico, near Santa Fe. Both of these are rather upscale educational facilities, to say the least. Upon this train of thought, one is led to think of Santa Fe as an upscale city.
So naturally, there is an issue of upscaled cost of living. My first reaction, as always, is that this is an enormously complex issue which I am not qualified to form an opinion about, let alone blather on about it, however: there are a few things in the article that caught my eye.
First, I make a practical observation concerning fried haddock. The fried haddock experiment was performed in a controlled environment. I, as a woman of moderately scientific character, know that the city of Santa Fe is not a controlled environment, and cannot be made into one. This is important for a couple of reasons: first, there is no surefire way to tell if anything that appears to happen “because of” a living wage law actually succeeds the passage of such a law as a matter of course. Following, there is no scientifically correct way that a political or economic thinker can use what happens in Santa Fe, good or bad, as an indication of what may happen in other regions in which similar laws are passed. This means that the Santa Fe experiment is not an experiment at all. If it will have any effect on the policies of other city governments, or perhaps on a state or national level, it will be due to a domino effect caused by a change in sentiment towards the city and its policies. Will more people want to work in Santa Fe for higher wages? Will more people want to live there because of the very “upscale” tinge which is now causing problems? Will the apparent problem with economic competition turn around entirely such that other cities are forced to change their laws to compete with Santa Fe? We won’t know until the experiment is much further along.
I am reminded of other political and economic experiments, especially the one lately conducted in the Middle East, but that is another essay entirely. Let us move along.
Given the chaotic nature of the experiment, with so many variables at work, and so many of those out of human control, we are left, as per usual, with that specter of the sciences: morality and practicality. In some respects, it is practical to clone humans, but is it moral? What about the practicality and morality of democratization? In this case, what is the morality-practicality ratio of the living wage experiment? They are all related questions, and this last is the real issue at hand in Santa Fe.
The words of Reverend Jerome Martinez caught my eye: “How can you worship a God that you do not see and then oppress the workers that you do see?” At first, I felt the Reverend’s righteous indignation, but looking back, I am inclined to see it through the employer’s eyes. The employer thinks that she has never oppressed her employees; she has acted within the law; she has come this far on her own wit and wisdom in her industry and wants to enjoy the fruits of her labor, and this law will not allow it.
I would like to believe that I have just the right perverse sense of self-gratification which would lead me to raise the wages of my employees and take the blow to my own lifestyle. That, I realize, is a rare trait in a free market economy, and it is certainly no one’s survival skill.
The predicament leaves me with the sincere wish that there were a way, in our fine old capitalist society, to measure how much of an individual’s success is talent, and how much is hard work, the latter of which I think is far more deserving of reward –– again, a bit masochistic of myself, seeing as I have spent altogether too much of my own life coasting on talent. I do, however, feel that we of the “talented tenth” have a duty, by virtue of our puzzlingly good luck in the genetic lottery, to assist our fellow human beings, who may be perfectly virtuous, work hard all their lives, and never reach goals which are, from our birth (which certainly indicates nothing for or against us), within our grasp. How any government would legislate that idiosyncratic little opinion of mine (if any House or Senate or city council would ever agree on it, and what a laugh that is in our day and age) is completely beyond me in any case; who can measure an individual’s industry as compared to their natural skill?
I will be interested to see how time unties this knot, as it is so very, very far beyond my own ability to do so."
I have invisible bruises on my right hand, and I don't know why. My left side, around my hip, has also been fairly consistantly ouchie in the past few days. I wonder what in the world I have done to myself, then I realize that it's a dumb question, because clearly I have done very little *right* for my body, and lots of things *wrong.*
| The Vacuole You scored 43 Industriousness, 29 Centrality, and 42 Causticity! |
You're the Vacuole! Found mostly in plant cells, this is a most important organelle. You do a whole bunch of stuff: - Capture of food - Maintenance of internal water pressure - Containment of waste products - Maintenance of an acidic internal pH - Storage of defense molecules (toxins) and - Enable a cell to elongate rapidly In terms of real life, you're probably the jack-of-all trades. You can fit into most situations, both social and academic. The only problem is you tend to be overlooked a lot of the time. |
 |
My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The Which Cell Organelle are you? Test written by fading_shadows on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test |
Har har. xD Nerdity!
I have approximately ten tons of homework this evening. Just so you know. :P
Scarsdale this weekend. There is no rest for the wicked. NO. GODDAMN. REST.
. . . . . entries for 5.2.06 . . . . .
Alert! I am collecting prom dates for a few very attractive friends of mine! If you are interested in taking a lovely and charming lady to prom at Niskayuna High School this May, IM or e-mail me ASAP.
It was, I think, a university, not in the sense that it was big or prestigious, but that it was foreign. Overseas, all colleges are called universities.
That being said, I have no idea where it was. No one ever told me. So I’m not sure how I got there, but when I arrived, the breath was nearly knocked out of me just by the sight of it all. The buildings were pristine, all definite shapes painted with a thousand colors so that they almost became a part of the vines that grew over them, the jungle that encroached upon the edges of the campus. It was on a hill, or a small mountain, or maybe in a valley; it was in the center of something, and that was what I noticed. What it was the center of seemed not to matter so much.
It reminded me a little of that house in Shaker Bay, also in the center of things, the one with the intricate gingerbreading and the best view of the river, the one that’s had bare drywall on one of its whimsical turrets for a few months now. The university had an air of impossible sensuality and inexplicable importance. I say inexplicable because, to be frank, it was in the middle of a big and beautiful nowhere.
It was a cloudy day, and I never saw the sun directly, but the ambient light was vibrant and saturated with the cloud forest’s mist and possibility and awe.
There was a man leading us around –– and when I say “us,” I mean me, and a few people I’d never seen before, and Shannon, and I don’t know why she was there or how she got there, but I was relieved to see her, since it meant I wasn’t alone –– yeah, a man with a gigantic personality. I don’t really remember what he looked like, but his presence was huge. I thought he must be the president, or headmaster, or whatever, of the university.
The first place he led us to was the pool, and I have no idea why. It was huge and rectangular, like an olympic pool. It sank into stone that might’ve been slate or volcanic rock; it wasn’t worn smooth, but was jagged, as if newly laid and unfinished. The lanes of the pool were separated by long strings of unidentifiable, organic things, brown and green, small enough to fit in my palm, irregularly shaped.
He told us to swim around, make ourselves at home, so we did. It was a sloping pool, with a shallow end and a deep end. Shannon and I swam in the same lane, and generally splashed about and had a grand old time. At one point, I sank down in the deep end, but when I reached the bottom, I kicked up to the surface again as if it were nothing. It was strange; I’ve never been an athletic person, and the pool must’ve been at least fifteen feet deep there.
The water was full of floating, lately living things that had dropped from the plants all around the courtyard. It was also full of jellybeans. All of the prospectives noticed them at different times; they seemed incredibly out of place in this primordial environment, even though they were the same natural colors as the leaves and seeds that were their swimmates.
I commenced collecting them after discovering a few floating around. I even dared to eat one. It was outrageously hot, and blew out my tastebuds, my sinuses and my psyche all in one fell swoop. I am a devotee of all things spicy, but the capsaicin concentration in this thing threw me for a loop. If you’ve ever bitten off a healthy chunk of fresh jalepeno or, say, habenero, take that feeling and raise it to the thousandth power. That’s not to say that it was entirely unpleasant. As with all extravagantly spicy things, it left me in a ludicrously good mood. I guess, when all is said and done, I’m a little bit of a masochist that way. So long as it confines itself to a love of things that burn the tongue, I see nothing wrong with this bizarre little predilection of mine.
Shortly after that, our guide told us to get out of the pool, so we did. We walked to one side of the courtyard, then up a staircase which led to a swinging, wooden rope bridge over the pool, to a balcony of one of the huge buildings. He seemed amused that some of us had grabbed handfuls of the mysterious jellybeans, and advised us to check the dates etched on their undersides, after which they would become dangerous to consume. I hadn’t noticed these markings before, but upon turning over some of the beans in my hands, I saw that, indeed, they had white dates etched into their waxy skins.
When I looked up from my cursory examination of the jellybean expiration dates, the guide –– whoever he was –– was standing over me, with that same smirk on his face. Until now I had not noticed anything particular about him, besides how very imposing he seemed, but now I saw him more clearly. He was dressed in black; a black suit and a black turtleneck and black leather gloves. I saw the half-smile on his face, but I couldn’t tell you anything else about what he actually looked like, besides that his eyes, too, were black. They expressed not amusement, but an unfamiliar concern and curiosity. He shepherded everyone inside the building through the doorway on the balcony, but bade me stay outside. I did.
There was a bench to the left of the door, which might’ve been carved out of the same dark stone as the tiled floor, or maybe it was wrought iron. It was strewn, like everything else, with the refuse of the jungle. I sat there, where I had a view of the pool and the jungle beyond the campus, and the guide sat on the other side of the bench, not too close.
He surprised me. Instead of discussing some deep and meaningful issue, he took one of my jellybeans and cut it in half. It had three tiny seeds in it. He explained that they were seeds of one of the plants nearby, and that there were countless different seeds contained in the jellybeans, all in different combinations. He seemed strangely personable all of a sudden, but I still don’t remember what he actually looked like. . .
I am writing a story - or a fragment thereof, anyway - about a dream I had last night. I will probably stick it up here when I am done writing it. It was an interesting dream, but not a creepy one. A pleasant change, a little. :P I keep on having these bizarre dreams that I forget within a couple of hours. This one shan't be forgotten! It shall be typed out and remembered.
. . . . . entries for 4.2.06 . . . . .
In the Sherman household, we actually pronounce it "tie-ud."
. . . . . entries for 2.2.06 . . . . .
I am rather ickily sore from GIRLS' TEAM WATER SPORTS today. We swam laps and things. Bah. I am rather ickily sore from math and APUSH also, but that is always the case these days. :P
Holy Names this weekend? Erin maybe getting the other half of her stupid bid? Yeah. Yeah, that.
. . . . . entries for 1.2.06 . . . . .
I suppose it will raise the question, "Erin, why the *hell* did your mother buy you a black bikini?" I do not know the answer. Ask her. -.- Huzzah for outrageously overlarge shirts.
I have a tiny bit of homework in every subject this evening. I find this incredibly annoying. Then again, I appear to be in the very mood to be annoyed. Harum.
Dear God Almighty this is obnoxious. I cannot find my blue-and-brown bathing suit *or* X the pair of shorts to wear over an older suit. >.o This, I think, is why I thought I'd switch out of this infernal class.
Tired all the tiiiiiime.
come home?
.:people:.
{ting}
she looks like the real thing
{mari}
out and about
[kelsey]
THIS IS AMERICA
{yianni}
stop being depressed
{alisa}
other
[shannon]
close and far
{frank}
islands where no islands should go
[cassie]
eating knowledge
{colin}
my dm
[emily]
shoulder to the wheel
[brian]
nostalgic for fantasy
[nicole]
industry insider
{elle}
angry enviro
[matt]
never heard of miyazaki
[pirate dan]
are you reading this?
[olga]
distracted
[messiah dan]
messiah/believer
{max}
approach focus
[natalie]
wait a minute
[susan]
solitude
{greg}
manbeargreg
.:past:.
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.:skin:.
turtles! turtles! by araglas
(heavily modified by yours truly)