. . . . . entries for 30.9.08 . . . . .
I love Daniel Cloud, I do - he is a brilliant man, and I love basking in his brilliance and soaking up little bits of it for myself. But some of the Cloudian revelations I've been through haven't really been pleasant.
Tonight, for instance: Cloud at Paideia. I went for Cloud himself, and Kelsey went for the topic, which was the paradox of complexity with respect to evolution. Dead fascinating, counter to intelligent design arguments, very mathematical and fundamental, naturally more up-to-date and intelligent than Darwin's "there are lots of eye-like things" line.
Unfortunately, if humans have reached their current degree of complexity - including our complex intelligence and resultant understanding of the world - through graduated forms of complexity that have built upon one another over time, without intervention, it seems to imply that God need not be in the machine for it to run. As you may know, I like the idea of God in the machine, at least in some respects.
So for the past few hours I have been despairing, albeit in a very intellectual and therefore somewhat neat way. But then I sat down at this desk, and I saw my red-yellow silk curtains, and they are beautiful. Kelsey and I talked about beauty a little, while I was despairing. She is agnostic, but more properly atheist than I ever have been. We ended up, I think, sort of trying to mutually talk one another out of a nigh-nihilistic perspective on life resulting from the revelation of a godless world. Beauty is a good sticking point, an excellent one. Maybe our appreciation of beauty is somehow relevant to evolution; maybe in some way it makes sense for certain things to appeal to us aesthetically. But maybe it's just "junk," extra complexity that can't hurt, but doesn't really help. It may be one of those quirks that is equal to, but not greater than, the alternative, a quirk that brings undeniable charm to an uncharming situation.
There were the curtains, and then I looked up and saw the poster above my desk: Vincent's almond blossoms. If they had had a print of the Reaper, I would have chosen that instead, but the only field painting was the one with the crows (or one of the ones with the crows), which frankly is not visually interesting enough for me. Too symmetrical.
But anyway. Looking at Vincent's art on my wall, I can't really conceive of slipping into hedonistic atheism anymore. Not thinking of him, of the beauty of him, of his belief in God in the machine, or in the sunlight, in the fields, in the reaper of wheat. Even if all that were not God, it would still be so beautiful. And art, and history, and belief are so beautiful - I will find a way to give myself over to them, even if I can reason myself out of it. Why would I want to? I'd be a terribly poor hedonist atheist. I've no knack for it at all.
Fact: interesting grad school options exist for my kind.
On chutzpah: there are times at which I am reminded I should have it. But other times let me down. For example, I anticipated appropriate need for chutzpah going to open mic night:
But I remembered too late that open mic night is not really anything like a poetry reading. Spoken word stuff and music are more the order of the evening, and I got there too late to sign up past a crush of people standing in front of the board. So the chutzpah went to waste, and I felt silly and wrongly talented for such an occasion. Although it was fun anyway, I was never the center.
It's hard to feel as though one deserves to draw attention to oneself here.
You can tell I'm busy because my blog is dying again!
Things up: The Teach McCain Campaign rolls on, with some degree of success (despite roadblocks) so far, although I am a poor T-shirt saleswoman.
My roommates and I are addicted to narrative personality tests, despite the fact that they tend to condemn, incriminate, and/or fail to capture the truth. :P
I just wrote an explanation of my plans for my 5-paragraph EEB/ENV essay, concerning communities on the Mongolian steppe writing scenarios for their future development. I am excited about the essay in the abstract, but it will be such a pain to write in reality. I hope I am up to it.
Tuesdays are sleep-in days, unless I schedule meetings, which means that I am not up unreasonably late - yet. I also took a ridiculously long nap earlier.
If I wanted to submit something to PRISM, the international/multicultural perspectives publication on campus, what would I submit? N.B., pretty much any medium/genre is acceptable.
Is it appropriate to try and eliminate sentences starting with "I" in a blog? Is it too much? Is it self-deception? I mean, the damn thing is pretty obviously about me.
. . . . . entries for 28.9.08 . . . . .
I was so insufferably full of myself in high school. Dear Lord. I am so glad this university has broken my ego's back. :P
. . . . . entries for 27.9.08 . . . . .
I canvassed with Kelsey in Philly today, around Penn housing. We were not enormously successful in reaching people because we were enormously successful at finding inaccessible places, like apartment buildings with keypads and places from which the supposed occupants had moved like two years ago. Oh well. We helped the cause and had Thai and came back to Princeton. We also met some cool college dems and accumulated some good Obama paraphernalia. Wahoo!
I'm becoming a right and proper politically active college student. :P
. . . . . entries for 26.9.08 . . . . .
Disheartening, but not the end of the world: I am probably going to get braces for 2 years or a little more, after which time my teeth will not be so awkward, but during which time I will be the awkward girl with braces in college. I am not thrilled about being unprettier for so long. Braces might also be ow-inducing at times, but I am better at dealing with substantial things, like ow-inducement, than insubstantial things, like unprettiness. Alack.
. . . . . entries for 24.9.08 . . . . .
She's got a living stone and rain in her hand
She doesn't have an umbrella to cover herself
She's got a living stone and pain in her mind
All I can do is sing for her and myself
I wish I can take it away to three thousand light years away
I wish I can take it away to three thousand light years away
(I should just buy Cibo Matto's corpus on iTunes. I'd be a happier Erin.)
I look forward to rain, because this town - for being this town - has been far too long without it. My skin is dry and my throat is scratchy and the ground is dusty.
Turns out I didn't need to be worried about my calc quiz after all! I actually kicked the quiz's ass, which is a nice way to start the course.
Resting on one's wee small laurel twig is not really an option here though. There is all manner of reading to be done. :P
If you are liberal and enthusiastic enough about it to try to influence the results of this election, particularly through a somewhat humorous demonstration on your college campus, and I haven't already bugged you way too much about this, tell me and I shall hook you up with my delightful "I Could Be McCain's Econ 101 Teacher" media event.
. . . . . entries for 23.9.08 . . . . .
Man, I'm not saying anything, I'm just saying: some of this WWS reading is HUM: Redux.
I have tea. Lots of tea. And tons of reading. Sleep? Well maybe. I don't know.
This is what college feels like! I remember now. But I also remembered, while reading: I have read some of this before. I had some clue about this before. The things I learn are sticking a little and I am becoming educated. They tell you college will educate you, but I confess I did not believe until I saw it with my own two eyes.
And on sleep, and bitching during junior year: I think I bitch just as much about being tired now, it's just that I bitch on facebook instead of my blog. This means that facebook has the rights to a substantial fraction of my bitching. Now that's an enviable possession.
I've been wondering: is my blog just too old and too badass to have a top toolbar?
Also, I've realized that I could probably write a Great Books analysis-y paper for WWS if I wanted to. That's neat. I also wonder if I could find a way to coordinate it with some area of interest in psych.
A couple years from now I will probably have some complaint about my former (now present) self, too. I should try not to look at this as a harbinger of my permanent and terrible imperfection, but rather as a promise that I will get better, at least.
If I made this blog password-protected, I could, you know, blog more.
. . . . . entries for 22.9.08 . . . . .
I suppose I should write something about the financial markets and their downward spiral. I don't know what I'd say, though. Financial issues are not my forte and probably never will be.
But here is what I hope for: things will get bad. Not so bad that infrastructure will crumble; not so bad that political chaos ensues. But bad enough so that the people on top feel it. Even you - even me. We all have to feel that business as usual isn't working.
I hope for this because, after things are bad, after things fall apart a bit, we can put them together in a better way - with shocks instead of cement, with gel instead of concrete. We can make things flexible and biodegradable. We can fix what's broken if we all see it in pieces.
If we see it in pieces and don't allow ourselves to believe our eyes, then we are in trouble. But so long as we open up and pay attention, we can make it better. We can maybe even save the world a little, through that wisdom that comes against our will, through the awful grace of God.
I've been reading my blog entries from the end of junior year. I feel as though I've changed a lot, especially in the way I blog. Now, I think if I read this a year or two from now, I'll understand it. Much of the old entries are so random, so quippy, so unrevealing that I just don't know what was going on in my life at the time.
Some significant changes that are apparent, even due to the stylistic failings of the blog: I have come to terms with the fact that I am usually introverted. I no longer envision myself ever getting into electoral politics. I don't get sick as much. I am less whiny about sleep deficits when I incur them. I actually procrastinate less than I used to.
Not bad, I guess.
I woke up from a very weird dream this morning - and I mean, the alarm literally came right out of the dream, no vaguely remembering or anything - dream, then awake, like that. Very weird indeed.
It was a video game-ish dream, I think involving elements of Final Fantasy, .hack maybe, and my psych reading. Part of it was in my backyard. This may be trying to tell me something, but I haven't gotten very far into my Jung for dummies book, and I probably won't for a while, if ever, so I may never know just why my unconscious mind won't get off video games along with the rest of me. :P
:( I hope James Coan does not veto my T-shirt design. But I think he's gonna.
. . . . . entries for 21.9.08 . . . . .
PSYCHOLOGY IS CRAZY!
I feel horrifyingly on top of my work. This will not last, of course. But for now, I'm all up to date. It's a strange feeling.
On a different note: how did people know who was dating whom before facebook? It is not always obvious, at least not to the mildly socially inept, i.e. me. I guess we found out by asking awkward questions and doing embarrassing things.
Is facebook actually any less awkward and/or embarrassing, though? It's just. . . different. Like broadcasting to all your friends without picking and choosing, "oh, Sally is close, I'll tell her first, and I'll tell Suzy and Mary right after."
Well, so long as my facebook profile does not encompass every detail of my personality, I suppose I have some small control over who knows me how. I even can exercise meticulous control over first impressions by picking apart my profile, should I choose to do so. But I don't. Which is why I have about 1000 pictures on that damn site, most of which are totally freakin' absurd.
Does it make me vain? Or does it make me absurd? Or maybe just uncommonly honest?
I would just like to point out that, all else aside, Barack Obama's website and campaign materials are a collective masterpiece of aesthetic marketing. John McCain's are not.
. . . . . entries for 20.9.08 . . . . .
Well - that was underwhelming. I went to the first-stop speech for the benefit of the Brita Climate Riders at McCosh just now, and the speaker was mediocre at her craft. This would not have been an awful thing if she had not taken the inspirational, rather than the practical, tack on how young'ns should be combating climate change. I wanted to hear: envision and enact efficiency on a grassroots level. Make your friends, family, school and community work for a better planet. Turn out lights, pump up tires, take the train, ride a bike. . . you know. Real things. Instead I heard "rahrahrah, this looks awful grim but we can do this, you can do this, by staging congressional sit-ins and drawing on the love in your heart!"
Like I said - if we'd had an Obama-caliber speaker, this would have been fine. But we did not. So it did not go well.
On the bright side: I have become involved in a James Coan conspiracy to stir up media attention about John McCain's lack of economic education. If you are on a college campus where you have students who are concerned with this problem and willing to devote a little time and effort to making a fuss, tell me so I can put you (or a good undergrad point person) in touch with our Mr. Coan. We want this to be big.
(I'm talking to you, Cassie, Frank and Nicole. [Susan, Ellen, anyone else? How's the political will on your campuses? Do you have folks who like cheeky, liberal T-shirts and snarky, on-point demonstrations?])
"By using brain stimulation to reward rats for turning left or right, Sanjiv Talwar and his colleagues (2002) trained rats that had never been outdoors to navigate natural environments. By pressing buttons on a laptop, the researchers can direct a rat - which carries a receiver, power source, and video camera on a backpack - to turn on cue, climb trees, scurry along branches, and turn around and come back down. Their work suggests future applications in search-and-rescue operations" (Myers, Psychology chapter 2: Neuroscience and Behavior).
Uh, no. It suggests future applications in techno-zombies. Duh.
Synaptic Gap would make a reasonably good band name. Especially for electronica or something experimental/vaguely metallic.
Until now, it had not occurred to me that I have an invaluable resource shared by few for my autobiographical writing. You're reading it right now. Hmm!
. . . . . entries for 19.9.08 . . . . .
Socially conscious rap makes me happy.
Also, a capella pickups at Blair Arch sure are annoying this time of year. :P
I wonder which characters in FFXII the featured vocal Kiss Me Good-Bye is intended for. I mean, the song doesn't appear anywhere but the credits, and it has this really unsettling theme that seems to occur, in varying permutations, in a lot of anime or Japanese game music: "look, I know we're in love and all, but I'm not so sure about this and I think you might not be either so maybe we should take a break?" Unsettling mostly because, to some extent, I understand it - I just don't want to think that way, because it requires too much thinking. Thinking about the fate of someone other than yourself in a very direct way, for instance. The grand abstraction "helping other people" is one thing, but saying "hey you - I know what's best for you and I will help you" is quite another. Especially when the person at hand is one's SO, that attitude can only go so far before it falls on its lonely and regretful ass.
Ashe, maybe, and Basch. Or Penelo and Larsa? I don't know. It is intriguing, and I bet there is fanfiction about it. Lord save me from fanfiction. And roleplaying. Really.
. . . . . entries for 17.9.08 . . . . .
Consecutive stories in my BBC newsfeed:
Uganda is seeking a miniskirt ban because the skirts distract drivers and cause accidents.
Rwanda will become the first nation to have a female-majority parliament according to recent polls.
Holy cow. Girl power? Or something?
I am having a crisis of academic identity this week, one which I feel obligated to prolong at least for another week - kind of, sort of. Seeing as how I just today met my last class for the first time, I sort of owe myself more thought-time on the class, and the others. And on where the hell I'm going.
One place I'm not going: an absurd prereq quest to take one particular class. I want more wiggle room than that.
I've been thinking about what I'm good at and what I care about, wondering what that is, what that means. It will take more thinking. But I've had some ideas, which, anyway, is a start.
. . . . . entries for 16.9.08 . . . . .
In my reading for my nonprofity WWS class, I have determined so far only that Alexis de Tocqueville points out a lot of true things. One of my favorites as applicable to the current moment:
"I think democratic peoples have a natural taste for liberty; left to themselves, they will seek it, cherish it, and be sad if it is taken from them. But their passion for equality is ardent, insatiable, eternal, and invincible. They want equality in freedom, and if they cannot have that, they still want equality in slavery. They will put up with poverty, servitude, and barbarism, but they will not endure aristocracy."
Particularly, now, aristocracy of culture - aristocracy of education. People so often want to relate to their elected officials as though they were characters in a novel, the educated certainly not excepted. I relate to the pain Barack and Michelle Obama must feel as they edit themselves, never denying but never admitting to their Ivy League educations because they know that the majority of people will find it unrelatable and therefore abhorrent, a mark of aristocracy, of insufferable "betterness." Because of our desire to relate, to be equal, we do not actually seek out capable people to lead us. We seek out similar others - good characters with good backstories. We are sort of morons in that respect.
I just returned from a HUM reunion dinner that I kind of instigated. It reminded me that, while HUM meant a lot to me - sometimes in joy or misery and often in sleeplessness - it is not a part of me the way it is part of many of the kids in the class. I want to stop talking about classics and start talking about the rest of our lives, but that doesn't happen in big reunion situations. I need to start going after these kids in bits and pieces if I intend to really be friends with any of them - friends the way I think of it, the sorts who stay up absurdly late talking about everything or nothing and sometimes, maybe quite often, the most important things. Friends who keep each other alive.
How one starts over in college and makes these kinds of friendships is still a mystery to me. Maybe because I'm wary of giving over myself first, of spilling guts before the other guy. Wouldn't that weird most people out, a sudden talk about something real, taken personally - especially if the people involved weren't actually simpatico, or even sympathetic?
Not that I haven't made friends here - I have. But not quite the sleepless nights friends that I have elsewhere, it seems. I suppose I can hope for that to change, but that kind of friend isn't what most people seek.
It doesn't help that a lot of the people I find interesting and worth befriending on an individual basis are male, and wouldn't that be awkward, saying "hey, let's get coffee but in a totally platonic way?" (Yes, it would be. I have done this thing. It is awkward, and something so contrived as a coffee date does not belong in the kind of friendship I want.)
Also, if I don't do something less futile-seeming and more happiness-inducing next summer, I will implode. So many people seem so thrilled with their fascinating and beautiful summers, so many of which are out of the country. I feel dull and unworthy. And I am blogging, of all things. Blogging.
Here's to not knowing what I'm here for, or what you will make of this. Cheers. Hopefully it was, as I like to say so much, "therapeutic."
. . . . . entries for 15.9.08 . . . . .
In a recent conversation with a certain friend, I realized there is a very simple political litmus test to see, in a hurry, whether someone is left or right of center. It won't work for everyone, I'm sure, but hey: judge for yourself.
1) Are you afraid of terrorists?
a) Yes
b) No
c) Not in particular
2) Are you afraid of global warming?
a) Yes
b) No
c) Not in particular
An A on #1 and a B on #2 indicate a conservative bent, the opposite being true for a liberal tilt. The third option exists for those who are not out on wings but closer to the golden mean, or possibly apathy - who knows? :P
In my brilliance, I fell asleep for an hour and a half or something. Blarg. Oh well.
But now I am reading my ENV and absorbing it more. I hope the class lives up to the promise of the textbook - of being a revolutionary and maybe actually workable way to look at environmental issues. I hope it's just the class I've been looking for.
My psych textbook informs me that it has been suggested by psychological studies that romantic attraction weakens with separation. I do not like this finding.
I had a day today, let me tell you what.
Calc was unremarkable. Psych was fun, but made me wonder if I'd actually want to major in it. Time will tell, I guess. Creative writing was not exactly what I had expected. I have the most historically prolific work-assigner in the department, I believe. I have to read six books for the class. I think I am going to go buy them very shortly.
Said professor wants us to write about ourselves, ideally. Uhhhh. Not sure how that will work out. We'll see. I am not confident in my ability to write about myself - and truthfully - in such a way that I will not appear neurotic, psychotic, ridiculous, egomaniacal. . . the list goes on. The biggest problem with me, and my own self-perception, is that I'm so introverted, so focused on myself, that I feel like the entire thing would be abstract and plainly uninteresting. It would be hard for me to string events together into a reasonably well-constructed narrative without too many rambly, expository paragraphs and still declare that the writing is about myself.
You know? :P
Calc is extraordinarily disorganized! Hopefully that won't hurt the students overmuch, but our TA seems a little frazzled.
Psych next, then lunch, then creative writing. :D
. . . . . entries for 14.9.08 . . . . .
Okay. So I didn't originally have a good answer for this blogthing. So I went through all of them, and this one sounds the most like me, so I guess I should get an orange umbrella - or I would, if I believed in umbrellas. :P
What Your Orange Umbrella Says About You |
 When faced with adversity, you are able to come up with a creative solution. Problems don't ever get you down. You see them as an opportunity to think outside the box. You are playful and light hearted. You make the dullest tasks interesting and lively. You are curious about the world around you. You take every moment as an opportunity to learn. On a rainy day: you should get out there and play in the rain |
- or, at least, it sounds like someone I'd like to be. Someone I could maybe become. None of the umbrellas really exemplified Erin, in my estimation.
AGH
dropped my phone. Hopefully it will not decide to not work again. It's just a pain to deal with.
Sleep now, frsrs.
My blog is weakening a little again. Harumph.
In brief: today, I canvased for Barack Obama and Patrick Murphy, a Democratic congressman and Iraqi war veteran. It tired out my feet and taught me some life lessons. Well, in particular, this one lady taught me life lessons. For like 40 minutes. So we didn't get to all the doors we wanted to. Oh well.
I should explain that in greater detail at some point. Remind me.
Now, I sleep, for lawnparties go down tomorrow. There may be silly Woody Woo fountain-frolicking pictures. . . and they may be the last for a long while, if it turns out that I get into WWS. Can't touch the water until the thesis is in. Bad luck.
. . . . . entries for 12.9.08 . . . . .
I did end up helping at the activities fair, once Kelsey told me where to go. :P Wasn't super necessary and WAS super hot. Oh well.
Also, reunion with my CA people went okay and damply and briefly. Apparently there is organic flatbread pizza at Cafe Viv. Gotta check that out.
Aaaand I'm canvassing for Barack in Pennsylvania with the Kelsey and the college dems tomorrow. Woo!
I just went to the activities fair. Whoa sensory overload. I had intended to help out with the PPN booth, but I never saw it - or the Tory booth, or Tiger, or indeed any publication, I think. Maybe I just tried too hard to circumvent the dance and a capella tables. Eek.
. . . . . entries for 11.9.08 . . . . .
It's still hard for me to believe that I belong here.
I recently returned from my first EEB/ENV 341 class of the fall - and my first class of the fall, period. I think I'll learn a lot of widely applicable stuff from the class, and be severely cowed in the process. Several of the folks in the course were abroad in Africa this summer, witnessing the challenges of pastoral peoples in drylands firsthand. There are tons of EEB majors in the class who, I expect, already know a lot of the framework I'll be learning for the first time. There are a couple of grad students, and a few seniors who want to work what they learn in the class into their theses. Scary. There are other sophomores and POL/ECO/SOC/WWS folk, but not nearly so many as bio majors - or at least it seems to me. Gulp.
Makes me think that I need to go abroad somewhere and take advantage of Princeton's far reach and deep pockets. Somewhere where I'd learn something. Maybe when internship-getting season rolls around I should accost the environmental folks around here about what I might do, where I might do it.
And that's just the beginning! I wonder how I'll feel after calc tomorrow. Hm.
I do not have psych lab until next week! Therefore, I have some free time this morning.
The office of Religious Life held a 9/11 memorial service this morning at 9 - it might still be going on. Before I knew I had no psych lab this morning, I determined I could not and therefore would not go - so I didn't, and I won't. Maybe I'll stop by the memorial garden later today.
I don't feel for 9/11 like I used to. The event has become so lost in political muck that my mind almost refuses to wrap around it. I don't know what it means anymore. I don't want to launch into an angry or sad or hopeful polemic just because it is the anniversary of that day.
It's not fair to the other people who die of injustice, is I guess what I'm mad about now. Those few Princeton alums whose lives were taken in 2001 were mourned for this morning, as, I suspect, were another 3000 people or so. But there have been bigger casualties, just as arbitrary and terrible. I feel as though we cannot remember anything but 9/11 in this country - or maybe as if we couldn't, but are starting to recall now, some of us.
What a mess it has made of us. What a success it has been for our enemies.
. . . . . entries for 9.9.08 . . . . .
Blue Velvet is a WEIRD film. Don't think I'd recommend it as such to anyone, but if you're with a group of friends who like observing weird things for humor and edification, then, uh. . . well, it's weird.
One more day before classes start. Blarg. And I must go return my history books and get my EEB/ENV books, and deal with financial aid junk. Blarg blarg blarg.
It is raining, I think from Ike. The bad thing about rain is the worry that my curtains will get wet. The good thing is the humidity break, and the coolness. My curtains also have a built in method of rain-avoidance involving fluttering up near my face, so I think they'll be okay.
Sleep is good, and rain, good or bad, is Princeton.
. . . . . entries for 8.9.08 . . . . .
Freaking out much less now. Worry not over me.
. . . . . entries for 7.9.08 . . . . .
I am all moved into my new room. The silk Cassie got me is up, and looks pretty in the windows, but we definitely need more stuff for the white walls.
Things today, until very recently, have gone as unremarkably as I could possibly have hoped for. Then it began again, and I was reminded of myself, and of others, and the warping in between.
Sidenote to Cassie: maybe they *are* emo glasses. I sound ridiculous. Trust me: I intend only to be vague.
In any case, there are better places to gush about that. Suffice it to say that I am in Princeton, and this year, I suspect, will be in some substantial ways quite different from the last.
What have I done?
I beat FFXII! and I'm going to college today! oh, what times.
I guess I'll go sleep soon.
. . . . . entries for 5.9.08 . . . . .
I do not love packing.
So, I made a couple of appointments today, and I stressed myself out about assorted hangups in my life, some of which are medical - but not life-or-deathy. Just annoying, superficial, and "what if?"y. Ugh.
Oh. Also. Colbert on Giuliani made my night.
However:
I do think McCain would be better than Bush. I think he has some shred of his integrity left, a shred he would nourish and let grow again if he were elected. He could actually turn out to be the maverick we all want him to be.
Somehow I can't see myself voting for him, though.
Will we ever have a president who will cite not Reagan, not Roosevelt, not Kennedy, but Washington? Will we ever step out of global entanglements and into ourselves, happy to be a smaller, more content nation than we have been? That is what we need to become, I think. Because on at least one point, John McCain is very wrong. We have never faced anything like the current energy and environmental crisis. We cannot fix it just by switching to green energy halfway. We have to change the way we live. We have to be conscious of the lives we lead, and how they ripple outward to every other life on the planet. And we are not, and I don't think McCain cares for us to become conscious that way.
I am a one-issue voter. My issue is respect for other living things. For this, I will vote for Barack Obama - unless these next couple of months are really outstandingly strange by political standards.
I doubt my posting more to this blog will ultimately matter that much, come to think of it, because I have a few compulsive readers and a few occasional readers, and the only one who comments super-often is Cas. :P But at least my compulsive readers will be kept up to date on my brain waves. Maybe I should try to make my roommates read my blog too, or something.
. . . . . entries for 4.9.08 . . . . .
On decisions: I'm not as much in the mood to write about them now as I was before, so this may be brief.
In summary, I have to choose a major, choose whether I will be in an eating club, residential college, or independent as an upperclassman, and I have to get my head on straight with regards to what I am doing this summer. Oh BOY.
And I have to take classes enough to get into majors other than Woody Woo when/if I get rejected.
Which is more optimistic - if/when, or when/if?
SICM issues will be resolved! I will be able to pay for school! I hope! o.o
(Now I guess I should figure out whether or not I have a choice about having a campus job. And I should make an orthodontist appointment. Oh brother.)
A word to the wise: however healthy this new Purple super-antioxidant beverage is supposed to be, it tastes a little like death.
- also, come to think of it, a little like red wine.
So like, I'm just saying. Republicans are evil.
. . . . . entries for 3.9.08 . . . . .
JON STEWART MAKES THINGS BETTER
Notes on Palin's speech:
Thanks for quoting Kennedy at your convention. "Profiles in Courage" - really?
No one has ever gone after the demographic "parents of disabled kids" before. I'm afraid it might work, despite contradictions.
The people of "small towns" are blind and duped, even if they are noble, even if they are good. They will vote for McCain-Palin as the pair stroke the collective Republican ego.
She's pretty, isn't she? And a pleasant speaker.
Does she realize the double meanings of her words? Talking about reform. . . how hard it is to get past entrenched interests. It will be hard to get past you, yes, GOP. It will.
Palin: you are a transparent maneuver to snatch up old Hillary supporters who are nervous about Barack because he is young and black. Women of America: DON'T FALL FOR THIS.
You are also a transparent attempt to destroy the planet, starting with Alaska, while lining the pockets of the top 2%.
Juvenile jokes poking fun at Athenian imagery. You wouldn't understand it.
Don't. You. Fucking. Accuse. Obama. Of. Being. The. Antichrist.
Stop the scare tactics.
Stop the lies.
Stop your SPITZER FACE.
I want to cry.
I am obviously not a serious political blogger. :P
He wants to tax the RICH, you bitch! The top 2%! Isn't it against the law to LIE about your political opponent? Isn't it? Shouldn't it be!? Shouldn't it be against the law to lie to the American people!?
Don't steal the ethos of Teddy Roosevelt like it's part of your party. He was not like you people. Don't talk about being in the arena, about doing instead of talking. McCain's valuable actions are in the past. And let's face it - he's no bull moose.
Cindy McCain looks like blonde Skeletor.
I really wish McCain's plane had never been shot down. Isn't that kind of me, to wish that?
I'm sick of her talking.
Oh! She quoted Aeschylus a little, via another Kennedy! . . . (how dare she?)
That color is bad for her.
Even my blog about this is becoming very very juvenile. Maybe my IQ is dropping by osmosis.
YES, John McCain is a war hero. NO, that doesn't make him a good candidate for executive of the Federal government.
Thank God she has stopped talking. Now I wish they'd stop applauding.
I apologize for this post, but I needed to write it. It's therapeutic.
Rudy Giuliani. . . Rudy, you are a carrion crow. Your audience is your murder. You are tearing at the songbirds because they sing, because they fly, because you want to eat the eggs of their young, because they are still alive. Your caw appeals to a certain kind, the kind who thinks beautiful, flyaway notes cannot have meaning simply because they *are* beautiful. They have no beauty in their souls. They only have ugliness and hunger. They are hungry for food that will poison them. They peck out the eyes of every creature slowed by the anguish of injury and misfortune.
Dear GOP: If you destroy this country, we - the now-young, sharp-eyed, ears pricked and hearts still aflame - we will be ready to fix it.
But we will never forgive you.
We will not tear you to pieces because we are not like you. But we will
never
never
never
forgive you.
I am writing an email that I need to write. Then I will blog about decisions. Because whoa, are there ever a lot of them I'll need to make in the next few months.
. . . . . entries for 1.9.08 . . . . .
Hey look! I'm blogging!
My sister is currently leveling in .hack, the RPG. It's kind of an awesome game, except for the need to level. :P Cas acquired .hack, along with Dirge of Cerberus, earlier today. I am surprised by the extent to which I like the latter. I do not foresee a need to level characters in Dirge. It seems, rather, a constant trial by fire of the player's level - of actual experience, rather than monsters shot.
.hack's plot is insanely engaging because it is meta-game, and pokes fun at a lot of MMORPG conventions. At the same time, it takes advantage of that decidedly effective theme that, so far as I know, originated with J-horror film Ringu: dangerously corruptible technology. I guess it's not new, but a certain way of presenting it - as horror, as close to home, rather than a great and distant sci-fi possibility that may or may not wipe out society as we know it. . . the old way is Asimov. The new way is all those damned identical movies with their damned identical DVD covers, and .hack, which is better because it is slightly less scary/cliche.
I will be back at school in less than a week, and it is weird. Oh is it weird. Cas does not want to let me go. She says she would feed me things. She feeds Cronkers things, but only half a cup twice a day, and he stays in the apartment all the time. I do not think this would suit, although I am glad I have a sister. (Heaven forbid I am ever NOT glad I have a sister. . . *emphatic hand gesture*)
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:.
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
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January 2012
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March 2012
June 2012
April 2013
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June 2013
.:skin:.
turtles! turtles! by araglas
(heavily modified by yours truly)