I put a spoonful of grapenuts into my mouth, and then couldn't chew or swallow for two minutes because Craig Ferguson did such a hilarious bit on infomercials (his mortal enemy) that I honestly would have choked.
Wednesday, November 15
Friday, November 10
on philosophy
It must suck to be my aesthetics prof. This week class got out before Dan and I even arrived because he had some contagious super-bronchitis. Last week we all got A's on our exams (including those of us who didn't do the exam) because his kid threw all of them into a fire. The week before that he canceled class for no reason Dan and I know of, although we expect it was a spy battle with Mo from Donovan because we're pretty sure Mo is a spy and we spotted the prof. walking with a cane earlier in the week. And before that he had a death in the family, and so canceled class.
Dan and I couldn't figure out who won the spy battle. We know the prof has X-treme Plato-rays that shoot out of his eyes, once he removes the glasses, but Mo works the grill line so has a lot of hot oil at his disposal.
Dan and I couldn't figure out who won the spy battle. We know the prof has X-treme Plato-rays that shoot out of his eyes, once he removes the glasses, but Mo works the grill line so has a lot of hot oil at his disposal.
Thursday, November 9
pixelated and pixilated
My video card is an Nvidia Gefore4 MX 440. For the three and a half years I have owned this computer, I have only known the "nvidia" part of that futuristic-sounding mouthful, because my computer played any game I wanted. The games I play tend to be older, because I base my purchases on what interests me rather than what is six-bladed razor trendy; the only brand new game I have ever purchased is The Sims 2, which came out only a year after my comp, and so ran perfectly well. Actually, it was in that same purchase (to save on shipping, of course) that I purchased for $10 The Longest Journey, which is the best adventure game to come at since at least the mid-90's. In April, it's sequel Dreamfall came out, and my mom gave it to my a few days ago as a six-month late birthday present. It doesn't run. On the famiy computer, for no reason I can discern. On my computer, for lack of an adequate video card. As much as I would love to play this game (despite the horror stories I've heard about the controls), video cards are expensive, and this is the only game I need a new one for. :( If anyone reads this (besides Dan, who knows even less about video cards than I), feel free to conveniently comment with the model number of an inexpensive, minimum "100% DirectX 9.0 compatible 128 mb card with latest drivers."
Today I talked awhile with a girl from my Tolkien class, which was fun because I am antisocial and not usually good at talking to people I don't know well. But it's always easier talking to someone with similar, subculture-type interests, although it all started with talk about some group papers from class. Words also come easier with a bit of caffeine; that was the case with the first truly inspired piece of writing that I've started in an incredibly long time. Oghma?
Today I talked awhile with a girl from my Tolkien class, which was fun because I am antisocial and not usually good at talking to people I don't know well. But it's always easier talking to someone with similar, subculture-type interests, although it all started with talk about some group papers from class. Words also come easier with a bit of caffeine; that was the case with the first truly inspired piece of writing that I've started in an incredibly long time. Oghma?
Thursday, November 2
"don't drink, don't smoke, goody two-shoes"
I have decided to substitute a good lie for a whole shitload of resonable truths.
The lie: I'm straight edge!
The truth: I'm sick of explaining why I don't smoke or drink, especially drink. Parties, gatherings, conversations, whatever, I always say the same thing: I hate the taste of most alcohol. Oh, but I haven't gotten used to it yet, I haven't yet partied hard enough to know the wonders of the fermented. Yes, about that, I'm not into the whole losing control/ fucking up my liver business either. Okay? No, not okay? You're going to try to convince to anyways, because the reason I don't drink is just because I don't know any better. No, I'm not a senior in college. I haven't seen enough drunk people to decide I'm not interested in being them. My heaviest drinking was two hard lemonades one night; obviously I'm too naive to know better than to have so little of a weak drink. Does the sarcasm bleed through your screen? My choice not to smoke is usually unquestioned. People have asked me if I smoke, I've said no, and that was it. My friends who do smoke are even considerate enough to move if they notice their smoke is getting in my face, because I am allergic to tobacco smoke. But not drinking is downright socially unacceptable, and unfathomable.
If I said my father/mother/uncle/grandmother/sister were an alcohic and had a tragic story to throw around, this would be fine with people. I would be such the triumphant individual for refusing the substance which had brought my family to ruin. Straight edge is punk, it's AFI, it's hip, it's a livestyle; or so the perception runs. It is the easier of the two lies, as I don't do drugs (we'll let the caffeine slide), drink, smoke, or watch much television. I consume little meat, lots of fiber, and cups and cups of water. I listen to some punk music (ok, so mostly post-punk), though it's the old stuff, not the particular straight edge punk, but I also don't hang out with anyone who would know the difference.
And of course, the way to begin any successful lie is by explaining it in a public forum. I'm sick of writing boring entries. Maybe try somethin' interesting next time?
The lie: I'm straight edge!
The truth: I'm sick of explaining why I don't smoke or drink, especially drink. Parties, gatherings, conversations, whatever, I always say the same thing: I hate the taste of most alcohol. Oh, but I haven't gotten used to it yet, I haven't yet partied hard enough to know the wonders of the fermented. Yes, about that, I'm not into the whole losing control/ fucking up my liver business either. Okay? No, not okay? You're going to try to convince to anyways, because the reason I don't drink is just because I don't know any better. No, I'm not a senior in college. I haven't seen enough drunk people to decide I'm not interested in being them. My heaviest drinking was two hard lemonades one night; obviously I'm too naive to know better than to have so little of a weak drink. Does the sarcasm bleed through your screen? My choice not to smoke is usually unquestioned. People have asked me if I smoke, I've said no, and that was it. My friends who do smoke are even considerate enough to move if they notice their smoke is getting in my face, because I am allergic to tobacco smoke. But not drinking is downright socially unacceptable, and unfathomable.
If I said my father/mother/uncle/grandmother/sister were an alcohic and had a tragic story to throw around, this would be fine with people. I would be such the triumphant individual for refusing the substance which had brought my family to ruin. Straight edge is punk, it's AFI, it's hip, it's a livestyle; or so the perception runs. It is the easier of the two lies, as I don't do drugs (we'll let the caffeine slide), drink, smoke, or watch much television. I consume little meat, lots of fiber, and cups and cups of water. I listen to some punk music (ok, so mostly post-punk), though it's the old stuff, not the particular straight edge punk, but I also don't hang out with anyone who would know the difference.
And of course, the way to begin any successful lie is by explaining it in a public forum. I'm sick of writing boring entries. Maybe try somethin' interesting next time?