The Just Another Damned Handout Act

2006-12-01 / 12:49 a.m.

I totally caught my professor in a furtive nose pick today. It was one of the few things I did notice in class�I was super tired.. I was running dangerously low on sleep today, but I didn�t realize until about 4:02 pm (during my local government class). It seemed fortuitous that I woke up 30 minutes prior to my alarm. I felt fine so I got up to start my day. In retrospect, I really should have stopped to consider that I didn�t go to bed until 1:15ish, and scooted the alarm to the 7:30 region.

In class Wednesday, we talked for a little while about some of the quirky rhetoric of policymaking (among other things, of course). One of the tangents I enjoyed was the discussion of giving bills value-loaded names. Seriously, I mean, it makes you sound like a douchebag if you�re against something called, "No Child Left Behind" or "The Clear Skies Act," or if you aren�t "pro-life" or in favor of "living wage." On a related note, Gwinnett, Dear old Gwinnett, recently passed an ordinance to outlaw panhandling and homemade shelters that included a really adorable euphemism: �urban camping.� �Urban Camping� is making a shelter on public property, or sleeping in one place for more than one hour; however, it sounds like some edgy new outdoorsy trend to me. I imagine turning on the television, and seeing a Mountain Dew commercial featuring two rad extreme sports dudes �urban camping.�

I�ve been thinking a lot about my long, lost lucky red duckie hair clips. While I don�t really put any stock in objects being lucky, nothing bad ever happened when I was wearing them, and after awhile I started wearing them for special events. More importantly, they were insanely cute. I wish I still had them. I looked all over the internet, but they do not seem to exist any longer. Anyway, this is the official APB: they were Goody brand children�s hair clips. They came on a card with two pink bunny clips. If anyone ever sees them in some ancient big lots bin, please purchase them for me. I will pay you back. Honestly, I have no idea why I�m so hung up on these fucking juvenile hair accessories. I guess I�m writing about it because it�s one of the few times the internets have failed me. I can�t even find a picture. Woe.

When did I get lazy? Seriously. I�ve spent two days now, looking at the same mediocre outline without making any progress. This paper should be easy, and I�m just drawing it out toooo long.

Okay, I was going to write more, but I�ve been cat bombed.* Check down below, there�s another new entry there for your reading enjoyment. I separated it out because it is quite likely very boring.

Edit: 10:04 am: If I hear one more person say something along the lines of, "Well, if this is global warming, then I like it!" (regarding the weather, I'm going to punch said person in the face.


*"cat bombing" is when Lucy starts off being splayed across the back of my desk chair, then slides over my shoulder and flops into my lap at some ridiculous angle.

marginal improvement comes easily to some

2006-12-01 / 12:42 a.m.

This was originally part of the entry I posted more recently, but I realize most of you aren�t tae kwon do stuff, so I split it up. I promise not to babble too much with the jargon and the boring and stuff. It isn�t all specifics; some of it is my trademark brilliant wit and loving self-deprecation.

Tonight was my belt test. The workout was highly satisfying, but I could have done better on the actual test. Per usual, we started with, um, vigorous calisthenics and then hardcore drill stuff. Usually the basics exercise is pretty rigorous, but it�s a little more intense during tests, and probably twice as long. My heartbeat was probably over 160 for at least 45 minutes straight, and that isn�t counting the 10 minutes of forms later. (my resting heart rate is about 58). I did okay during the whole-class exercise trauma. My spinning back kick, while still bad, has improved marginally and the instructors seemed to notice that. I was surprised that we had to do double knife hand strikes, which I don�t seem to have the coordination to execute. Anyway, what�s important to this part of the story is that I pretty much wore myself out. Because I�m like the plucky, loveable retard of my rank, I get a lot of attention from the assistant instructors (AIs). I�m really bad, therefore an easy target, so I get a lot of help and a lot of corrections. Because I wasn�t in the mood to have my stance corrected 19 times, I didn�t shirk on doing it right�even when we had to hold a stance for an ETERNITY while AIs went around and make corrections. By the time we were rounding out the last of the kicking drills, my right quads and calves were shaking with fatigue. So, when it was time for me to do my stupid forms, my legs felt like jello. So my forms were, how do they say? on the internets? �Teh suck.� I thought I did good enough to get promoted, but at the end of class GrandMasterCouch mentioned that a couple of the ascending yellows and ascending greens would have to test again. : ( booo. If that includes me, I�m going to be a sad girl.

While I know that is isn�t rational or fair to myself, the test left me with all kinds of feelings of guilt and inadequacy. I don�t know why I care so much, but I don�t want anyone to think I wasn�t trying hard. Especially all the AIs who are always so nice to me. I also hate not being good at things and I wish I kicked ass. The end. I�ll spare the part about how awesome I was at the one steps (and how no one was watching!!). Is it bad that ninja class is my favorite part of graduate school? It�s the only place I have encountered anything resembling friends, and I get more gratification out of it than school. : ( WAKE UP! TIME TO GRADUATE!

That�s a lot of ninja talk, yo. I�m sorry, I just had to get it out of the way before Roger took his Black Belt Test on Saturday, because any tae kwon do news I have after this weekend will be eclipsed by my boyfriend�s annoying impressive achievement. Dammit.

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giant scorpions: the stuff of nightmares

2006-11-26 / 11:11 p.m.

Television, alcohol. My masters. Roger and I watched several hours of television today�since last night at 1:00am, we watched Nova, the first disc of HBO�s Rome, the pilot of Veronica Mars and another Veronica Mars or so. Reason number 12 why I don�t watch television: it consumes my time like the parasitic demon it is. TV isn�t usually a problem for me, because it�s never high enough on my list of priorities for me to schedule my other activities around the teevee. However, with Papa Netflix and Mamma Bittorrent, television is available whenever I want it. Rome has potential, though I�m not prepared to give it a thumbs up yet. I can say, conclusively, that it has more sexual intercourse than any other show I've watched ever, ever, ever. Noisy, graphic sex too. Veronica Mars�fabulous! I finished the first season Friday out of fear that drawing it out any longer would keep me from working on my final papers. Now I�ve bullied Roger into watching it with me. Nova was fine as always, though I can only speak for the parts I didn�t sleep through. Global warming killed the dinosaurs, and it�s going to kill us too.

My car? My uncle couldn�t find anything wrong with it, actually. In the short term, this is totally sweet and awesome. Though long-term perspective, I�m pretty sure I�m driving a ticking time bomb. I�m hoping it�ll hold out for approximately another 10 months. Then I can buy a new hybrid car or whatever once I�m getting a regular paycheck. I was thinking that, as a strategy to save some money and put a dent in my credit card/student loan debt, I would think about moving into the basement apartment in my Aunt and Uncle�s house for a few months. On the one hand, it�s a full apartment�kitchen, bath, living and bedroom. It�s nicely finished and sufficiently separated from the rest of the house. The rent would likely be around $200 and I don�t think I�d even have to pay for utilities. Lucy would be able to frolic to her heart�s content. On the other hand, it would be a hellish commute (to the tune of 35 miles on 75/85N). Furthermore, I would have to find a way to deal with the weirdness of letting boys sleep over in my Aunt and Uncle�s house. I really can�t tell if that�s the kind of thing that they would just ignore, or the kind of thing that would be totally non-kosher to them. A worry for another time, I suppose. Honestly though, it�s weird. I�m going to be employed. I�m not going to be a student. That is so weird. I guess it�s not so zany to start thinking about where I�ll live. I�m currently trying to prognosticate how much of my paycheck will be deducted in taxes each month, but I can�t decode the income tax. Any helpful websites you people know of?

Mergh. I don�t have much to say. Thanksgiving was as boring as usual. Nothing fun to report there. I�m having trouble remembering all the things I initially set out to write. Hope to remember them in the next few days. Right now though, it�s time to go to bed. I�m worried it�ll take awhile to get back on a normal sleep schedule after a week of being off. Silly holidays.

Quick news and notes:
• I'm going to be 24 in about 12.58 days. That feels really old.
• Thursday is my belt test. Hopefully, I will ascend from peachy orange belt to a yellowish belt
• The best things about Thanksgiving are cranberry relish and pumpkin bread. Don't flaunt your ignorance by arguing with that
• I'm not sure how Roger came to be associated with gin, but I think it would be more appropriate to think of cheap whiskey (possibly mixed with Big K) as his signature spirit.
• I had a dream about god-like, intelligent robots bringing about the end of humanity on the earth. One step in their plan was to eliminate divisiveness and the human desire to disagree or rebel. At first, there was world peace...then it slid into widespread complacency as the robots enslaved able bodied people. They also blotted out the sun with a big cloud of black smoke that smelled like flowers.

walking me crazy

2006-11-19 / 11:28 p.m.

Saturday I spent over $12, over $25 even, on a haircut. Twenty minutes later, some karmic force decided that I should be punished for spending money on myself that I didn�t have, and destroyed my car. Thunk thunk thunk said the engine. Splutter squirt said the coolant. And O! The drama! After a debacle that does not need chronicle, the chariot of lady cupcake was towed to the evil lair of the Pep Boys! The PepBoys called me Sunday and said that my car was unfixable, but what they actually meant was that it would be complicated and expensive to fix, and they didn�t do major repairs (and those silly bastards asked me if I wanted the leaking tire replaced, despite the fact that the engine was unfixable. Assholes.). I�m not going to lie: there was some crying, and some cursing. While I�m still freaking out, I�m a little smoother on the surface now. Several heroes came to my aid today. My Uncle Corky and Roger�s Dad both shared their car wisdom and advice with me, Mom called with some financial advice for the fiscally retarded and automotively inexperienced, and Roger skipped work and stayed in Athens to help me prepare for a week sin coche. This involved trips to Target, the Grocery, and the Expensive Organic Grocery.
Here�s my plan as it sits now, stewing in my little brain: I got the car back home, and I�m going to try to get it to my Uncle the airline mechanic on The Thanksgiving. I don�t think I can limp it there, but my sweet aunt works with some dudes who race stockcars, and who might be able to tow it to my Uncle in Stockbridge as a favor. My uncle is going to look it over and see if we can fit it with junkyard replacement parts. If the repairs are too costly for a �98 Sunfire, I think I might just say fuckit and buy a new car�or maybe not, I don�t know. My original idea was just to get a temporary-I-can-drive-it-for-a-year car, but my mother suggested that I think about trying to get a low down-payment on an inexpensive new (or pre-leased) car. She said that my credit was probably good enough to get a small down payment, and that she would help me with the payments until I started getting my benjamins from the federal government. I guess I could take on a second part-time next semester to help ease the burden of another bill, and just suck it up for awhile. If I were to buy a new car, I would be hard pressed choosing between the Prius and the Hybrid Civic. I think the Prius might be a better car, but I like the look (inside and out) of the Civic more. In actuality, I should probably buy a car just good enough to function until June. Urgh, I don�t know. Anyone with any advices? This is too hard. I�m going to go make a drink�..Much better

That took up a lot of space! Sorry. Here are some non-vehicle tales from the weekend:

Roger, Mike and I went bowling. Mike taught me the incredible sike-out power of chanting, �buttholes, buttholes� while someone is getting ready to roll a ball.

The stylist at the salon fixed up my hair after I got it cut, and it looked great�.for about eight minutes. Why is my hair so completely unmanageable?

addiction.

WTF? WTF?! No more lost until FEBRUARY?! That�s totally mean. I finally watched the episode from the 8th, and I was like, finally! It�s getting really exciting again!!�and now I learn that there will be no resolution to the episode until FEBRUARY?! I doubt Sawyer will go down this way. I also think that Jack will try really hard to save Ben, but he�ll die during the surgery anyway. I�m wondering why we haven�t learned anything else about why the others were performing �tests� on Walt�and what ever happened to Bea anyway? You know, the only black Other on the island? And, the question that really sticks in my mind is if The Others really have contact with the outside world, and if they�re really so pissed about the Oceanic survivors, then why don�t they just send them home, with exception of those who would be useful, e.g.: spinal surgeon, torturer, dentist, recovering binge eating schizophrenic.

Just the three of us took flight that night, Uncle Richard, me and James Earl Jones.

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I met her on the LiveJournal, which i kept in prison. I have been blogging!

2006-11-12 / 11:02 p.m.

Last night, the Roger and I went bowling. Bowling? Yes, bowling. I mentioned that I wanted to go awhile ago, and he made a big stink about it, bitching about how much he hated bowling and blah blah blah, whatever. But last night I was stressed about all the paper stuff (I still am) and sad for no known reason, so my whims pretty much carried the day and we went bowling.

It�s a lot more expensive than I remember, bowling. We decided to just bowl a couple of games, then go home and watch venture bros. while drinking. After all the grousing he had done about how much bowling sucked, I expected him to suck at bowling. Except that he didn�t. Roger is some sort of sick bowling prodigy. He swears to me he hasn�t been in a long time, but I was suspect after he bowled two games scoring near 200 each game. asshole. Then I decided that this was Roger�s super power: he�s a good bowler with very little practice. This shot a nice hole in his whole mythologizing-the-world-around-himself-so-that-sometimes-he�s-a-superhero. Am I a bitch? I think I might be a bitch.

While we were bowling, someone called him. When we got in the car, I asked who it was. He told me it was a girl he knew from school last year. �
Me: Oh, what was she calling about?
Roger: I don�t know, she asked me to call her back because she needed something.
Me: Are you going to call her?
Roger: I can�t call her now. What if she was calling for sex, I�ll have to turn her down because you�re here.
Me: rolls eyes
Roger: And you might get jealous.
�.So I reassure him that he can call the girl back, and that I won�t get jealous. So he dials her while we�re still in the car. They say their hellos, and the next thing that comes out of his mouth is, �What? No! What makes you think I play World of Warcraft?!� It was pretty much the most hilarious thing that I had heard in a full week of days.

We did watch some Venture Bros. we downloaded from the interweb. Still confident that it's the best television show on earth. How surprised I am that the second seems as good, or better, than the first. Sweet crap. Fantastic.

I�m tired of my livejournal default userpic. I can�t even find my glasses, and I don�t even wear them when I�m supposed to, so I don�t think my LJ avatar needs to display them. I made a temporary one. I was attempting to mock the MySpace self portrait style that is cropped wrong and blurry and looks all deep, but I didn�t spend enough time fucking up the cropping to pull that off. Instead, I have a sepia-toned picture of me that makes me look 20 years older than I am. Delightful!

Ok, it�s goodnight time. I�ve got less than three days to finish both of these papers, so I�ve got to get up early in the morning to start navigating shit creek (without my paddle).

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