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.

Sir Ken for PM

Sir Ken Macdonald, the head of the Crown Prosecution Service -- and hence
an aspect of The Man -- is my new
hero. 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)

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:
o.O;;;

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.

:(

[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.

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.

AND I WILL NOT KNOW UNTIL FUCKING MAY WHETHER I'M EVEN ACCEPTED AT EGYPT!

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.

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.

New Year's Eve

Usually Christmas and New Year's get me all sentimental and thinking back over the year and what I've accomplished and what I still have to do, and then I need lots of chocolate to cheer myself up again.

Or, I could go to a party, drive home as the first dawn of the new year breaks over yonder notch in the treeline, and skip the self-assessment altogether.

You see, the depressing thing about end-of-year summaries is that they're never enough. Last year I went to China; this year I spent three months on a couch watching Buffy and hating my life. College is just more school that makes me want to stab myself in the face rather than get up in the morning. Writing papers eats up all my time. By midterms, all I want to do is sleep for a month, party with the friends I never see, write constantly, and buy a plane ticket to Somewhere Else. I may be learning some worthwhile things, but mainly I just want to get out.

Which brings us to Egypt, which is how I'm keeping myself sane. Ten months in Cairo with no affect on my GPA? What could be more marvelous? However, Egypt is $27,000 for the full year, not counting airfare or whatever I might do for Christmas break. I have no idea where that money is coming from and I desperately fear that the answer is "more loans." I am scared shitless of loans. I have no plans of maintaining the kind of lifestyle right out of college that can afford to pay back large amounts of loans. I've run into a brick wall I like to call "AUUUUHGHHHH! I HATE THIS FUCKING SHIT AND I DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT DEALING WITH IMPOSSIBILITY!" and hence have done fuck-all towards applying for all the scholarships I had planned to deal with over break. I'm still recovering from last semester for Christ's sake. If I can't make Egypt happen, then I want to take a semester off. I can't keep this up.

I pulled a 4.0 out of my ass last semester (highest GPA ever) and I need to do it again starting in two weeks. Why? Because last year my stupid-ass self decided I should try to graduate Summa Cum Laude. Because I could, if I could get through the trauma.

I fucking hate school. It's a corrupt institution. The President of IUP, Tony Atwater, doesn't even try to hide the fact that he wants to use us, the students, as cash cows. The new dorms are swankier, but twice as expensive. The library catalogue dates from the 1970s. They want to demolish and rebuild Whitmyre Hall (which is fine and just got a new heating system), but Keith (built in the 1920s, heating system operated by a switch in Harrisburg, no I'm not kidding) has only gotten new carpeting and a few more (admittedly appreciated) computers. I refuse to be their cash cow; next year's tuition isn't even going to the same continent they're on.

Thus, in short (too late):
1. I hate college.
2. I hate scholarships.
3. I hate loans.
4. Therefore I'm dealing with scholarships now.
5. I'm getting the fuck out of the country next year if it kills me.
6. Which it may.

Test, test

Test post. All seems well on the cyber front.