27 January 2007

Big, Fun, and Scary start

So, Chris Baty, of NaNoWriMo, has declared the start of a different sort of year-long challenge. 2007 is to be The Year We Will Be Trying Big, Fun, Scary Things Together.

"Think for a moment about those activities, classes, and endeavors that you've long daydreamed about, but have never quite got around to tackling. I'm talking about the roads less traveled---the tuba lessons, the family-history writing, the foreign language learning, the transformation of your living room into a multi-story race course for feral hamsters. These are the nonessential creative activities that get us in over our heads, bring new people into our lives, and help make life more magical.

"As adults, we tend to steer clear of these pursuits because they take time and cost money. But putting off all our adventures for later comes with its own set of costs. Our souls become dry and brittle. Our energy levels sag. Our noses fall off.

"Which is why I'm inviting you to pick one or two never-before-attempted endeavors that have long intrigued and daunted you, and then do them in 2007."

It's a marvelous idea. Here are my 2007 big, fun, scary adventures:
1. Take a semester off from college.
2. Move out of my parents' house.
3. Learn to work on/sail a boat such that I could theoretically sell my skills to work my way around the globe.
4. Do NaNo. Write and finish that goddamn Nordic hero novel.

And if I still have time in all that (and I should):
5. Learn at least beginner level Spanish.

Which means I need to stop by Clark Hall and figure out how to accomplish No. 1.

Indiana, why are you so flat?

My Fortune Cookie told me:
Tomorrow will be an excellent day for putting Slinkies on an escalator.
Get a cookie from Miss Fortune

And they're right! Where can I find an escalator in this town? There must be one.

25 January 2007

Sir Ken for PM

Sir Ken Macdonald, the head of the Crown Prosecution Service -- and hence
an aspect of The Man -- is my new
. I kid you not.

"London is not a battlefield. Those innocents who were murdered on July 7
2005 were not victims of war. And the men who killed them were not, as in their
vanity they claimed on their ludicrous videos, 'soldiers'. They were deluded,
narcissistic inadequates. They were criminals. They were fantasists. We need to
be very clear about this. On the streets of London, there is no such thing as a
'war on terror', just as there can be no such thing as a 'war on drugs'.

"The fight against terrorism on the streets of Britain is not a war. It is
the prevention of crime, the enforcement of our laws and the winning of justice
for those damaged by their infringement."

(first seen on Neil Gaiman's blog)

24 January 2007

Unearthly Squeaking

There is an unending squeaking coming from something near the Leonard Hall computer lab, where I currently am. It sounds like a very, very large metal hamster wheel turning lazily, as if propelled by a very, very large and very, very lazy hamster. It has been squeaking for the last two hours, without pause.

This is me right now:

If my gnawed remains are found in the Oak Grove tomorrow, then I request that my memory be honored with a B-grade SF slasher movie about giant, radioactive rodents with a taste for human flesh.

23 January 2007


[imagine a sickly-sweet voice, like a cute, adorable, baby kitten with huge eyes] I'm sad. :(

Yeah, take that, Anna. Pbbbbbbtt.

The Big Gay House has become more of a Domicile of Bitter Depression. Oh, baby, is it fun here. You wouldn't even believe.

19 January 2007

Back at college

Been meaning to make a back-to-college post all week. And, Jesus, it's been a week.

My roommates who have been dating since they were freshmen have been dealing with some relationship issues. They're doing a lot of time apart and a lot of getting smashed -- each separately but at the same time, which is bizarre. Monday was "hey, if we get all our shit done in half an hour, then we could watch 10 Things I Hate About You and get trashed!" night. So I've now been properly trashed and sick afterward. Ew.

Wednesday was an Irish session at the house: boozed-up musicians playing reels on flutes and whistles. Looks like tradition in the making; Audrey and Jess have no classes on Thursday. (Jerks.)

Have discovered that I still have time to turn in my Enhancement Fund proposal (think money, lots of money) but only a month till the NSEP is due -- and I haven't asked for recommendations yet. Eek.

I still fucking hate college. That hasn't changed.

I'm going to do my Capstone History Dept. Major Research Paper on pirates. I may present a paper on zombies to the IUP Undergraduate Conference (but probably not).

But you know what's really killing me? NOT FUCKING KNOWING ANYTHING. I will not know until April whether I have any Enhancement money. I will not know until March whether my current scholarships transfer abroad. I will not know until early May whether I have an NSEP award.


My brain is full of possibilities of what I could do with a semester off if Egypt falls through (and it seriously may). They still involve fleeing the country. (One involves working my way through the Caribbean on boats.) Some of them involve mucking about in Pittsburgh. But there are no plans I can make. O.o

So...there we are. I hate my life a little right now. I hope pirates will make it better. Chocolate, coffee, and booze only go so far.

11 January 2007

God, is it 8:15 already?!

It is truly incredible how much time you can waste on the internet. Those are three hours I'm just never going to see again (though my Google account is a lot less cluttered).

Lorelei Goes Bionic

So, my laptop is le fucked. It's at the shop again (thank gods for warranties) and her hard drive has all the wide open spaces of an amnesiac's frontal lobe. I caught myself thinking, "Christ, why can't she just be fixed and ready to go like she used to be?"

But how she used to run wasn't all that impressive, to tell the truth. She crashed, and took the final drafts of papers with her. She was slow -- oh god, so fucking slow sometimes -- and would rather be rebooted than take criticism. I'd say, "hey, it's a nice evening, let's go for a walk on the Internet." Lorelei would claim a headache, refusing to go anywhere near Explorer. Firefox helped -- it got on quite well with Lorelei, in fact -- but still the problem remained that our relationship was just not going anywhere.

But now, everything can be different. I can rebuild her. I can make her better, faster, stronger. She will not merely stroll along the scenic wooded pathways of the intarblag, she will swing from trees to dodge people walking their Windows '98s! She will be a superlaptop! When the Google OS comes out, she will greet it with a wise nod and accept it as The Way, not waffle over whether she really wants to try something new when what's she's got is quite fine really I mean I guess it's okay when you look at it sideways and -- no, she will work hard to stay on the cutting edge of technology, and steal a space cruiser to do so if she has to!

It'll be wicked.