Who am I, and what have I done with me?
I'm sitting here crying, like literally crying, real tears and all, which I only do when I have a breakdown or something. And I didn't have a breakdown, I watched a movie. I'm crying over a movie! The last movie I cried over was AI, I think, and that was years ago and because I was depressed and it was a bad idea to watch a sad movie.
But what really gets me is this- this wasn't a sad movie, at least not the ending, which is what I'm crying over. And these aren't sad tears. I'm a nineteen year old girl and for the first time in my life, I'm crying because I'm happy, because I saw something beautiful and sweet.
Man, I feel like... a girl.
And in case you're wondering, it was It's a Wonderful Life, and I've never seen it before. I can't believe I'm crying because of it- I mean, yes, classic movie and very sweet and everything, but I don't cry over movies. This is me. I don't get emotional over the lives of others!
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
Now tell me about your parents...
Today is the Consualia, a festival honoring Consus, the god of counsel, who protects the harvest while it's being stored. Mules, horses, and donkeys were exempt from all labor and were garlanded and led through Rome, and there were chariot races in the Circus Maximus, which I guess doesn't count as work. They even had mules race chariots.
Weird.
------------------------
Well, I'm at home. Today was a flurry of packing broken by a Mythology test. The room looked weird and stripped without it's usual junk. I also discovered large collections of dirt under the fridge, under my desk, under where Loquatia puts her shoes... Ugh. I need to wash that floor.
Five trips down the stairs later, Daddy brought me home. I've been here for less than four hours and I've already settled my fish in, eaten dinner (...fish), wrapped several Christmas presents, put in a load of laundry and cleaned my bedroom. And I watched Dr. Who with my dad. I feel empowered. But mostly tired.
And I got my work schedule from TJ Maxx today. I'm not working Sunday or Monday, which gives me time to clean the house for my sainted mother who can't tell her boss that she's sorry, she can't help them with yet another software glitch, since she won't get credit for it and she has a project due at the end of the month, and she was sort of intending to celebrate Christmas at some point, thank you very much (My mother has a history of overworking, but this is pretty bad even for her, so I promised I'd get the house clean for the holidays and subsequent neat-freak-grandmother visits if she'd pay me for it).
Tuesday and Friday I work from 11:00 to 8:00, so I don't have to wake up at a decent hour (yay!) but I still get home at one. Wednesday and Thursday it's 10:00 to 7:00, so I should be able to cook dinner for my mother as well (yes, we eat that late sometimes) if she's too busy. Then Saturday I work from 3:00 to 11:15 at night, because I told them I could work "any hours" and I'm guessing most of their employees have those "social life" things that I keep hearing about, which presumably occur on Saturday nights. Maybe you can buy those at TJ Maxx. I'm hoping for a discount.
Speaking of social lives, the Brother certainly has one- he's on a date AGAIN, like EVERY Friday night. He's pretty lucky that his girlfriend drives, or he'd never be able to afford the gas.
-----------------------
Anyway, I aced my Chem final (yeah, I was shocked too- and after all that worrying!). Like, 103 out of 105. Which means, not factoring in the 80 I got in lab, I have an A in the course. This is exciting.
And my mythology exam- I think I did tolerably on it despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that I was shaking out and massaging my hand by the time it was over. It was three essays in two hours. The first was on Theseus and why is he a hero, and that was fairly easy because I'd studied Theseus and I knew his legend fairly well anyway. Then there was a question comparing the female characters in Euripides' Medea, The Bacchae, and Alcestis, as well as the women of the Iliad and the female characters in Peter Schaffer's Equus. That was a little harder, as I could only remember one of the women in Equus and I hadn't known we had to study Alcestis or The Bacchae. Oops.
Final questions talked about the male heros in the Iliad and how they all caved in to peer pressure, or something. Then we had to scan WB Yeats' "Leda and the Swan." If you haven't read that poem, you should:
A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By his dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
How can anybody, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
A shudder in the loins, engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
Okay, first of all, amazing imagery. Second of all, it's a poem about a woman having sex... with a bird...
This story is more popular than almost any other story in Greek mythology centering around a woman and a divine or unusual lover. It's more popular than that of Tyro, and Tyro's life was a whirlwind of love, lust, revenge, and politics. Yet it's pretty simple- just a footnote to the life of Helen of Troy and the Dioscuri (the Gemini, Castor and Pollux), who were produced from this liaison. Zeus came to Leda and raped or seduced her in the shape of a swan, and that's why Helen is so beautiful... But yet, incredibly popular in poetry, literature, and art.
I think it's because humans are naturally drawn to the perverted. We don't want to experience it ourselves, of course, but that doesn't mean we don't want to read about it, or imagine it. Why does every news magazine have an article about those poor kids locked up in cages by their parents? Because it's newsworthy. Because we want to hear about it. Humans fly to disturbing images and stories like moths. Trust me, I'm guilty of it too. It's why I know so much about serial killer psychology (thank you Wikipedia).
But... why? Why are we fascinated by the strange and taboo? Pretty much everything in human nature can be traced back to some fundamental reason; if everyone does it (in some way or another) there's usually a reason why we want to. In our ancient history, was there some advantage to learning about things that disgusted and frightened us? Maybe it's some sort of reconnaissance, like learning more about your enemy. Or maybe it's a way of making ourselves feel better (I'm not a bad parent, I mean, look at them!).
I don't know. I think we're jealous. Not of the action itself, god no. Instead, we're jealous of the fact that they aren't bound by our laws. Maybe we don't want to break the same social taboos that they did, but we still wish we could break some taboo- have the courage or the insanity to defy a tenet so crucial to our society's structure. Leda was seduced by a swan- bestiality. It wasn't her fault, unless you live in one of "those" nations, but still- she defied a huge taboo (two, actually, she also cheated on her husband). It's like the combination of a perversion fixation and a rape fantasy- the sense of doing something dirty and wrong, but it's not your fault, no one will blame you, there's nothing you can do.
I think Leda's story is a mirror into the human psyche, like much of mythology. She got to experience what we all fantasize about- a chance to ignore the laws of morality but not face the consequences. We like to hear about the crime, not the punishment, because the punishment reminds us that even those who break the laws are still bound to them. Leda was raped, so those laws don't apply. And that, I believe, is what fascinates us.
And if anyone asks if I want to screw a swan, I swear I will kill them. That's not the point. I'm not excusing my own actions, I seriously think most people do this. Of course, I could be as wrong as Freud and the Oedipus crap...
Weird.
------------------------
Well, I'm at home. Today was a flurry of packing broken by a Mythology test. The room looked weird and stripped without it's usual junk. I also discovered large collections of dirt under the fridge, under my desk, under where Loquatia puts her shoes... Ugh. I need to wash that floor.
Five trips down the stairs later, Daddy brought me home. I've been here for less than four hours and I've already settled my fish in, eaten dinner (...fish), wrapped several Christmas presents, put in a load of laundry and cleaned my bedroom. And I watched Dr. Who with my dad. I feel empowered. But mostly tired.
And I got my work schedule from TJ Maxx today. I'm not working Sunday or Monday, which gives me time to clean the house for my sainted mother who can't tell her boss that she's sorry, she can't help them with yet another software glitch, since she won't get credit for it and she has a project due at the end of the month, and she was sort of intending to celebrate Christmas at some point, thank you very much (My mother has a history of overworking, but this is pretty bad even for her, so I promised I'd get the house clean for the holidays and subsequent neat-freak-grandmother visits if she'd pay me for it).
Tuesday and Friday I work from 11:00 to 8:00, so I don't have to wake up at a decent hour (yay!) but I still get home at one. Wednesday and Thursday it's 10:00 to 7:00, so I should be able to cook dinner for my mother as well (yes, we eat that late sometimes) if she's too busy. Then Saturday I work from 3:00 to 11:15 at night, because I told them I could work "any hours" and I'm guessing most of their employees have those "social life" things that I keep hearing about, which presumably occur on Saturday nights. Maybe you can buy those at TJ Maxx. I'm hoping for a discount.
Speaking of social lives, the Brother certainly has one- he's on a date AGAIN, like EVERY Friday night. He's pretty lucky that his girlfriend drives, or he'd never be able to afford the gas.
-----------------------
Anyway, I aced my Chem final (yeah, I was shocked too- and after all that worrying!). Like, 103 out of 105. Which means, not factoring in the 80 I got in lab, I have an A in the course. This is exciting.
And my mythology exam- I think I did tolerably on it despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that I was shaking out and massaging my hand by the time it was over. It was three essays in two hours. The first was on Theseus and why is he a hero, and that was fairly easy because I'd studied Theseus and I knew his legend fairly well anyway. Then there was a question comparing the female characters in Euripides' Medea, The Bacchae, and Alcestis, as well as the women of the Iliad and the female characters in Peter Schaffer's Equus. That was a little harder, as I could only remember one of the women in Equus and I hadn't known we had to study Alcestis or The Bacchae. Oops.
Final questions talked about the male heros in the Iliad and how they all caved in to peer pressure, or something. Then we had to scan WB Yeats' "Leda and the Swan." If you haven't read that poem, you should:
A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By his dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
How can anybody, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
A shudder in the loins, engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
Okay, first of all, amazing imagery. Second of all, it's a poem about a woman having sex... with a bird...
This story is more popular than almost any other story in Greek mythology centering around a woman and a divine or unusual lover. It's more popular than that of Tyro, and Tyro's life was a whirlwind of love, lust, revenge, and politics. Yet it's pretty simple- just a footnote to the life of Helen of Troy and the Dioscuri (the Gemini, Castor and Pollux), who were produced from this liaison. Zeus came to Leda and raped or seduced her in the shape of a swan, and that's why Helen is so beautiful... But yet, incredibly popular in poetry, literature, and art. I think it's because humans are naturally drawn to the perverted. We don't want to experience it ourselves, of course, but that doesn't mean we don't want to read about it, or imagine it. Why does every news magazine have an article about those poor kids locked up in cages by their parents? Because it's newsworthy. Because we want to hear about it. Humans fly to disturbing images and stories like moths. Trust me, I'm guilty of it too. It's why I know so much about serial killer psychology (thank you Wikipedia).
But... why? Why are we fascinated by the strange and taboo? Pretty much everything in human nature can be traced back to some fundamental reason; if everyone does it (in some way or another) there's usually a reason why we want to. In our ancient history, was there some advantage to learning about things that disgusted and frightened us? Maybe it's some sort of reconnaissance, like learning more about your enemy. Or maybe it's a way of making ourselves feel better (I'm not a bad parent, I mean, look at them!).
I don't know. I think we're jealous. Not of the action itself, god no. Instead, we're jealous of the fact that they aren't bound by our laws. Maybe we don't want to break the same social taboos that they did, but we still wish we could break some taboo- have the courage or the insanity to defy a tenet so crucial to our society's structure. Leda was seduced by a swan- bestiality. It wasn't her fault, unless you live in one of "those" nations, but still- she defied a huge taboo (two, actually, she also cheated on her husband). It's like the combination of a perversion fixation and a rape fantasy- the sense of doing something dirty and wrong, but it's not your fault, no one will blame you, there's nothing you can do.
I think Leda's story is a mirror into the human psyche, like much of mythology. She got to experience what we all fantasize about- a chance to ignore the laws of morality but not face the consequences. We like to hear about the crime, not the punishment, because the punishment reminds us that even those who break the laws are still bound to them. Leda was raped, so those laws don't apply. And that, I believe, is what fascinates us.
And if anyone asks if I want to screw a swan, I swear I will kill them. That's not the point. I'm not excusing my own actions, I seriously think most people do this. Of course, I could be as wrong as Freud and the Oedipus crap...
Thursday, December 14, 2006
I'm sure in 1985, plutonium is available at every corner drugstore
It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
That might be because they couldn't reserve a room in the Bowels of Hell on such short notice, but meh.
I think I at least will not have to retake the entire course. This is good.
------------------------
I was going to go to the review session last night, but one of the TAs, an older graduate student who used to teach high school, was running it. After the first half-hour, I realized he was still talking about "positive study skills," the major one being "start studying well in advance."
Uhm... this was the night before the exam. And the UN's been cracking down on the unauthorized use of plutonium in my DeLorian.
Anyway, I left that review, and studied on my own until the Chem fraternity's tutoring session. That was a bit more helpful, I'd say. Except the guy helping me was cute, and consequently distracting. But I was proud of myself, because I stayed mostly focused and there were only five babble-moments when I couldn't get my mouth to work right.
Anyway, I went to bed really early- 9:30- on account of having to wake up at the ungodly hour of 6 AM to shower/dress/eat/panic before the test at 8. It's weird getting up that early, because no one else does; the halls are empty and silent. The halls aren't even empty and silent at 1 AM around here. I was first into the shower; this wasn't actually a good thing, because it's not like it's been cleaned since November anyway and the water was COLD even though it was the shower that normally scalds me. I had to let it run for like five minutes.
I think I impressed Loquatia with my ability to get up that early. She was definitely expecting me to hit the snooze until at least 7. She doesn't believe me when I tell her I used to get up at 5:30 every morning for high school, and have not always been the lazy slug-a-bed she knows now.
-----------------------
I'm beginning to wonder if I'm in the wrong major. No, I haven't been listening to my mother, you'll know when that happens because you'll start hearing news reports of ham and feathers on plane windshields. No, I have decided this because I was studying Chemistry, specifically tetrahedral-shaped molecules, and all I could think of was the ancient weaponry that they used to throw down in front of war horses- the kind where a spike would always point up, and the horse would step on it and be unable to continue. Please compare:
And while this helps me remember tetrahedral shape, if you can't study Chemistry without thinking of ancient weaponry, it might indicate an underlying problem. Oh well. I don't intend on majoring in something useless, like history- that's what minors are for.
(This explanation always irritates my English-major mother and German-major father, which is why I say it so much. Mind you, they're both computer programmers, thus proving my point.)
-----------------------
Okay, I have issues coping with stress, of any kind. My grandmother's the same way, as is my mom. We all developed our own way of dealing with it- my grandmother tries to be strong for everyone else and confides in her sisters, my mother bottles it up inside, and I used to hurt myself or loose myself in a fantasy world. Now, I still use the fantasy world more than I should, but I talk about problems, or write about them. I share them. And since I've learned to handle stressors, mostly through communicating and complaining, and trying to find productive ways to solve my problems, I no longer need to be medicated.
But the thing is, this approach I have makes me see the world of blogging/journaling a little differently. There's this site, Trainwreck, that chronicles the worst blogs and journals on the internet- the mommy blogs, the self-involved-my-life-sucks journals, and the people whose lives are trainwrecks- so bad you can't look away. Normally I totally agree with them 100%, these people are losers. BUT. There's this mommy-blogger who's been on it a lot for bragging about her "incredibly precocious" kid, and she was up on it again- but this time they were ragging on her for complaining about her new kitchen not being all she'd hoped for, when she posted pictures and it's a pretty sweet arrangement. One commenter complained: "[B]ut [I] have to tell you, you complain a lot for having such a BITCHIN’ KITCHEN! B-I-T-C-H-I-N. and [I] can say that, because [I]’m from the 80’s. But what most disturbs me, is that you have so much (healthy, intelligent son, nice husband, nice standard of living) [and yet] you rant so much. And the things you rant about are that you’re son is so smart,(though you’re really humble) is beyond his grade level in intelligence, and that you have this new kitchen you didn’t [initially] want that you have (Sweet Jesus! You have a Wolf range, for Christ sake! AAAAAAAAhhhhhhhh!). ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! If you weren’t so spot on on most issues, [I] would just hate myself for reading this blog! [I] kind of feel that you don’t have a grasp on world issues and what’s going on around us ([A]fghanistan, [D]arfur, etc)."
Uhm, yeah. Okay. So she's a little self-involved. So she complains. But we can't all think about the horrors of Darfur and the civil unrest in Afghanistan all the time. How many times have I talked about Afghanistan? I mean, that doesn't make me less of a person, I just a)don't want to insult anyone by sharing my most likely naive views of the world, and b) have other, more immediate concerns.
Because Darfur is horrible and I'd love to do something to help, but let's face it, it doesn't affect my everyday life. I will wake up tomorrow and I will think about packing to go home, and my mythology test, and the final paper on x-ray crystallography I need two more pages on before Sunday. I'm not going to think about genocide (Probably. Never know). That's not because I "don't have a grasp on world issues." It's just because that's not my life. And I have a pretty wonderful life, I mean, I have problems, but I'm from a well-off family and I never really lack anything I need. I've been sheltered from the world's problems due to location and my community, and I have a wonderful family and a nice standard of living. So... I can't complain? I'm supposed to take all those little things that bug me and bottle them up inside? The whole point of having a journal and a blog is to be able to share the things that are weighing on my mind without needing an actual confidante, who I'd have to like, rope and tie and hide in my closet next to that cowboy I caught my sister for Christmas (oops).
So I won't read that blog because I think she's insufferably proud of her kid, who seems pretty average, maybe a little smart. But I still think that it's unfair to criticize her for complaining, no matter how well-off she is.
-----------------------
I know it's supposed to be embarrassing to wind up as a trainwreck, but if I ever wind up there, I think I'd have to be kinda proud that they thought I sucked that much. Besides, I'd probably get a lot of readers that way. Even if they are laughing at me, not with me.
-----------------------
But there was a paper thing I was supposed to be working on... and a test tomorrow... and I guess I'm supposed to go contemplate mass genocide for a while, too...
That might be because they couldn't reserve a room in the Bowels of Hell on such short notice, but meh.
I think I at least will not have to retake the entire course. This is good.
------------------------
I was going to go to the review session last night, but one of the TAs, an older graduate student who used to teach high school, was running it. After the first half-hour, I realized he was still talking about "positive study skills," the major one being "start studying well in advance."
Uhm... this was the night before the exam. And the UN's been cracking down on the unauthorized use of plutonium in my DeLorian.
Anyway, I left that review, and studied on my own until the Chem fraternity's tutoring session. That was a bit more helpful, I'd say. Except the guy helping me was cute, and consequently distracting. But I was proud of myself, because I stayed mostly focused and there were only five babble-moments when I couldn't get my mouth to work right.
Anyway, I went to bed really early- 9:30- on account of having to wake up at the ungodly hour of 6 AM to shower/dress/eat/panic before the test at 8. It's weird getting up that early, because no one else does; the halls are empty and silent. The halls aren't even empty and silent at 1 AM around here. I was first into the shower; this wasn't actually a good thing, because it's not like it's been cleaned since November anyway and the water was COLD even though it was the shower that normally scalds me. I had to let it run for like five minutes.
I think I impressed Loquatia with my ability to get up that early. She was definitely expecting me to hit the snooze until at least 7. She doesn't believe me when I tell her I used to get up at 5:30 every morning for high school, and have not always been the lazy slug-a-bed she knows now.
-----------------------
I'm beginning to wonder if I'm in the wrong major. No, I haven't been listening to my mother, you'll know when that happens because you'll start hearing news reports of ham and feathers on plane windshields. No, I have decided this because I was studying Chemistry, specifically tetrahedral-shaped molecules, and all I could think of was the ancient weaponry that they used to throw down in front of war horses- the kind where a spike would always point up, and the horse would step on it and be unable to continue. Please compare:
And while this helps me remember tetrahedral shape, if you can't study Chemistry without thinking of ancient weaponry, it might indicate an underlying problem. Oh well. I don't intend on majoring in something useless, like history- that's what minors are for.
(This explanation always irritates my English-major mother and German-major father, which is why I say it so much. Mind you, they're both computer programmers, thus proving my point.)
-----------------------
Okay, I have issues coping with stress, of any kind. My grandmother's the same way, as is my mom. We all developed our own way of dealing with it- my grandmother tries to be strong for everyone else and confides in her sisters, my mother bottles it up inside, and I used to hurt myself or loose myself in a fantasy world. Now, I still use the fantasy world more than I should, but I talk about problems, or write about them. I share them. And since I've learned to handle stressors, mostly through communicating and complaining, and trying to find productive ways to solve my problems, I no longer need to be medicated.
But the thing is, this approach I have makes me see the world of blogging/journaling a little differently. There's this site, Trainwreck, that chronicles the worst blogs and journals on the internet- the mommy blogs, the self-involved-my-life-sucks journals, and the people whose lives are trainwrecks- so bad you can't look away. Normally I totally agree with them 100%, these people are losers. BUT. There's this mommy-blogger who's been on it a lot for bragging about her "incredibly precocious" kid, and she was up on it again- but this time they were ragging on her for complaining about her new kitchen not being all she'd hoped for, when she posted pictures and it's a pretty sweet arrangement. One commenter complained: "[B]ut [I] have to tell you, you complain a lot for having such a BITCHIN’ KITCHEN! B-I-T-C-H-I-N. and [I] can say that, because [I]’m from the 80’s. But what most disturbs me, is that you have so much (healthy, intelligent son, nice husband, nice standard of living) [and yet] you rant so much. And the things you rant about are that you’re son is so smart,(though you’re really humble) is beyond his grade level in intelligence, and that you have this new kitchen you didn’t [initially] want that you have (Sweet Jesus! You have a Wolf range, for Christ sake! AAAAAAAAhhhhhhhh!). ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! If you weren’t so spot on on most issues, [I] would just hate myself for reading this blog! [I] kind of feel that you don’t have a grasp on world issues and what’s going on around us ([A]fghanistan, [D]arfur, etc)."
Uhm, yeah. Okay. So she's a little self-involved. So she complains. But we can't all think about the horrors of Darfur and the civil unrest in Afghanistan all the time. How many times have I talked about Afghanistan? I mean, that doesn't make me less of a person, I just a)don't want to insult anyone by sharing my most likely naive views of the world, and b) have other, more immediate concerns.
Because Darfur is horrible and I'd love to do something to help, but let's face it, it doesn't affect my everyday life. I will wake up tomorrow and I will think about packing to go home, and my mythology test, and the final paper on x-ray crystallography I need two more pages on before Sunday. I'm not going to think about genocide (Probably. Never know). That's not because I "don't have a grasp on world issues." It's just because that's not my life. And I have a pretty wonderful life, I mean, I have problems, but I'm from a well-off family and I never really lack anything I need. I've been sheltered from the world's problems due to location and my community, and I have a wonderful family and a nice standard of living. So... I can't complain? I'm supposed to take all those little things that bug me and bottle them up inside? The whole point of having a journal and a blog is to be able to share the things that are weighing on my mind without needing an actual confidante, who I'd have to like, rope and tie and hide in my closet next to that cowboy I caught my sister for Christmas (oops).
So I won't read that blog because I think she's insufferably proud of her kid, who seems pretty average, maybe a little smart. But I still think that it's unfair to criticize her for complaining, no matter how well-off she is.
-----------------------
I know it's supposed to be embarrassing to wind up as a trainwreck, but if I ever wind up there, I think I'd have to be kinda proud that they thought I sucked that much. Besides, I'd probably get a lot of readers that way. Even if they are laughing at me, not with me.
-----------------------
But there was a paper thing I was supposed to be working on... and a test tomorrow... and I guess I'm supposed to go contemplate mass genocide for a while, too...
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Potassium on Toast
Today is the Lectisternium of Ceres. A Lectisternium is when you have a sacrifice by inviting the god to the feast. The Romans picked up the god's temple statue and laid in on a dining couch with a pillow, and then served the "god" food by setting it down 
before them, then cleaning it up when they were "done" (They could tell the god was done because the poor schmuck sent to clean up didn't get struck by lightning or anything).
It's also the Sementivae, another festival to Ceres/Demeter (and Tellus/Gaea), this time of sowing.
-------------------------
Tacita officially moved out today, leaving behind an oddly empty corner and plastic pallet. It's not horribly tragic for me- she and I were never close, and it turns out that she's just moving upstairs, so I'll probably see her almost as much. More depressing than her leaving is what she left behind- space, which I don't think I've seen in this room since move-in day.
Plus really dirty floors. She pulled up the rugs last night and the floors were absolutely filthy. We need new rugs; otherwise, you might actually be able to see how filthy our floors are.
-------------------------
I'm currently defrosting the fridge, and Loquatia's packing. She was using the third desk, the one they're removing, and the lofted bed, which will also vanish. She'll be in Tacita's old bed and desk. Which will be moved, since Tacita complained every day about the terrible arrangement of the room that meant her chair could only pull two inches away from her desk. The whole room will probably get rearranged next semester. It will be very weird to actually be able to put a chair in here and not make Libentra sit on the floor when she comes to study.
Except... Libentra won't be in all my classes next semester. Wow. That's sad. I think the only one she's in is maybe Latin.
-------------------------
Libentra and I are going to the Chem review tonight, held by the Chemistry-themed fraternity, which is not to say a fraternity that brews their own beer (though they might), but rather one that focuses on Chemistry and the physical sciences. That should help, as I can't for the life of me remember what "MO" stands for or what potassium and sodium have in common besides exploding in water and being butter-like in consistency (potassium is the squishy, accidentally-left-on-the-counter-in-summer butter, sodium is the cold, hard sort).
I have a final tomorrow and all I can remember is potassium is squishy. I'm toast.
------------------------
I have my stress ball. I have a Latin exam that I should survive, since it's just translation. Then I have a review session, then I need to sleep tonight, like, go to bed at 10, since the Chemistry is so early tomorrow. And it's in a classroom I haven't been in before, so I will most likely get lost. I only need to answer 40 questions correctly to pass, and 50 to have a C (in the class, not on the test).
Deep breaths....
before them, then cleaning it up when they were "done" (They could tell the god was done because the poor schmuck sent to clean up didn't get struck by lightning or anything).It's also the Sementivae, another festival to Ceres/Demeter (and Tellus/Gaea), this time of sowing.
-------------------------
Tacita officially moved out today, leaving behind an oddly empty corner and plastic pallet. It's not horribly tragic for me- she and I were never close, and it turns out that she's just moving upstairs, so I'll probably see her almost as much. More depressing than her leaving is what she left behind- space, which I don't think I've seen in this room since move-in day.
Plus really dirty floors. She pulled up the rugs last night and the floors were absolutely filthy. We need new rugs; otherwise, you might actually be able to see how filthy our floors are.
-------------------------
I'm currently defrosting the fridge, and Loquatia's packing. She was using the third desk, the one they're removing, and the lofted bed, which will also vanish. She'll be in Tacita's old bed and desk. Which will be moved, since Tacita complained every day about the terrible arrangement of the room that meant her chair could only pull two inches away from her desk. The whole room will probably get rearranged next semester. It will be very weird to actually be able to put a chair in here and not make Libentra sit on the floor when she comes to study.
Except... Libentra won't be in all my classes next semester. Wow. That's sad. I think the only one she's in is maybe Latin.
-------------------------
Libentra and I are going to the Chem review tonight, held by the Chemistry-themed fraternity, which is not to say a fraternity that brews their own beer (though they might), but rather one that focuses on Chemistry and the physical sciences. That should help, as I can't for the life of me remember what "MO" stands for or what potassium and sodium have in common besides exploding in water and being butter-like in consistency (potassium is the squishy, accidentally-left-on-the-counter-in-summer butter, sodium is the cold, hard sort).
I have a final tomorrow and all I can remember is potassium is squishy. I'm toast.------------------------
I have my stress ball. I have a Latin exam that I should survive, since it's just translation. Then I have a review session, then I need to sleep tonight, like, go to bed at 10, since the Chemistry is so early tomorrow. And it's in a classroom I haven't been in before, so I will most likely get lost. I only need to answer 40 questions correctly to pass, and 50 to have a C (in the class, not on the test).
Deep breaths....
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
I had really good ravioli for lunch today
It's the Agonalia Indigeti, today, which was celebrated four times a year (January, March, May, and December). The thing about the Agonalia is all the Romans knew was they were to publicly sacrifice a ram. They didn't know why, or to whom. Just that they were supposed to do it. Which makes it one of the more ridiculous holidays.
It's also the Septimontium, a festival celebrating the wall that was built around all seven hills of Rome.
-----------------------
Two nights ago I blogged about people criticizing overweight people and telling them to just "diet and exercise" like it was the easiest thing in the world. I guess now I'm going to tell the other extreme. Have you ever read a pro-ana website? It's ridiculous. You think, god, these girls can't be for real; even if they think about it, surely they won't admit it. You tell me you're 5'9" and 100 lbs, and all you ate today was a half an apple and a bite of turkey, and you're so mad that you had to gain ten pounds because your boyfriend told you he'd break up with you if you didn't start taking better care of yourself? Honestly.
The trouble with either eating disorder- overeating or undereating- is that in this modern day and age, you can find someone who celebrates your unhealthy body. There are support groups for overweight people, telling them to celebrate themselves as Big Beautiful Women, ignoring the fact that they are at a greater risk of many illnesses. "Society is being spiteful," they say, "and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't diet away our lovely extra pounds."
My father always said the most basic, universal standard of beauty was health. That's why most guys like girls who are thin, but not thin enough that their bones show in weird places. That's why big boobs and some junk in the trunk is sexy. And that's why the number one standard of beauty is good skin. You will never find a website support group saying "Society is being spiteful, and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't wash our skin once a day to chase away our lovely acne."
Health and weight, though, poses a problem. What's healthy? Used to be weight was a sign that you ate well enough, so weight was beautiful. Now, most people in this country can get a decent amount to eat, but we've discovered the health problems associated with being fat, so thin is in. None of this changes the fact that absolutely no fat is as unhealthy as a lot of it is. Beauty is being at your ideal weight. Not too thin or too heavy. And your ideal weight is not what you think would be a good weight to be, but rather what your doctor tells you it should be. My doctor tells me to lose a few pounds. Thus, I'm overweight. If your doctor tells you you could stand to put some meat on your bones, you could.
Look, there is nothing sexy about a preteen body with bones jutting out at weird angles. These girls set ridiculous goals and then proudly boast their accomplishments before deciding that that was easy enough, they can go further, further... And when someone tries to intervene, they say, "Society is being spiteful," they say, "and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't force-feed ourselves until we swell up like a balloon." Or my favorite, "They're just jealous of my body."
It seems that whatever your body type, they're jealous of it. They want to be big and beautiful, and be able to eat whatever they want without caring that they're heavy. They want to be supermodel thin, and look like the girls in the fashion magazines. Well, kids, I hate to break it to you. I don't want to look like that. I want to have muscles; a toned stomach, nice arms, great legs. I also want to hide my ribcage and keep my breasts. I want to look- and feel- healthy. I know what that means for me. Do you?
Weight is not about self-image, honestly. If you listen to your doctor, and stick within what he recommends, you're fine. I'm sick of people criticizing society for not letting them stay at an unhealthy weight. Yes, it's your body, and your choice. But if your eating habits are incredibly, obviously unhealthy- or if you're in a chat room telling everyone that you're anorexic or that you're a compulsive eater, then people have the right to point it out, if they're nice about it. Especially your doctor- he doesn't just have the right, he has the responsibility.
-----------------------
That said: Being thin does not mean you're anorexic. Plenty of people are a little underweight because of their metabolism, but anorexia is when they're not trying to stay at a doctor-recommended weight. And while I've never been on this side, as far as I can tell, the only thing that compares to the challenge of loosing weight it gaining it if you have a fast metabolism. There are people who eat until they feel like they're going to explode and they can't stay at a healthy weight. There is a physical limit to how much people can eat, and these people have to push themselves past it every day. I feel bad for them. I swear that's not even a joke, can you imagine having to eat, eat, eat once your stomach already felt hard and dense as a rock? Besides, when you gain weight, you feel gross and sluggish even if your body needs it, because it's just not used to the change.
I admit, I make anorexia jokes about girls who are very thin. I'd never do that if I really thought they were ill, but that doesn't make it any more fair that I joke about anorexia but get mad if people joke about weight. The trouble is, we live in a world where a joke about someone being bone-skinny is not seen as being nearly as mean as making a joke about them being overweight. But I'm getting better. I don't make those jokes nearly as much. It's been nearly two months, I think, since I made one, besides the occasional benign "you're so skinny" comment or getting mad at a girl if she claims she's fat when her diameter is half of mine, which is really more of a "remember who you're talking to" comment than anything else.
I'm not perfect. I know what I should do, and I try, but I make a LOT of mistakes. Which is why I have so few friends.
-----------------------
Meanwhile, one of those few friends- actually, a guy that I barely consider my friend anymore, since I haven't seen him since graduation and wasn't really planning to make an effort to see him again,informed me today that he wants to meet so he can give me my Christmas present. Uhm... what? We barely spoke all senior year, we haven't really been what I'd classify "friends" since the beginning of junior year... why is he giving me a gift? Honestly, does he even know me well enough to get me something I'd like? Meanwhile this means (it was expressly implied) that I have to get
him a gift, too. And I haven't a CLUE what to get him (See gift idea #1 at right). I don't usually buy my friends Christmas gifts except for Mistake, because I've known her for so long she might as well be family. But I mean, if asked, I would have described Mack as my best friend last Christmas, and I didn't get him a gift, at least not one specifically tailored to him. And this year, it's a small gift for Mistake as always, and nothing for the rest of them unless it's something they can eat. I might bake cookies or something. The point is to make a gift they won't feel bad about accepting if they didn't get me anything, and I don't expect them to get me anything.
So it's actually more of a problem than a benefit for me. Because he doesn't know me well enough to get me something I need, so I'm guessing it's either something that's obviously related to something I'm interested in, or it's just a really bad gift.
And what do I get for him? I haven't a clue what he's interested in, and I'm not about to spend more money on him that I spend on a girl I've been friends with since kindergarten, so that leaves me with a pretty small budget. Grr...
I might check the stocking-stuffer bin at the Discovery Store to see if they have anything really inexpensive that's still cool. Dammit, though, this complicates life!
-----------------------
Exam #1 is over. Bio is out of the way. Loquatia and I studied together, and we explained to each other what we didn't understand, so it was really helpful. I think I did okay. My guess is 90%, maybe 85% if we were studying something wrong or if he's really picky.
And I got an 81% in Bio lab, and an 80% in Chem lab, both a lot better than I feared, so that's good.
Tomorrow: Latin. Not too much of a concern. Then Chem on Thursday, which is a concern- a HUGE concern.
And I still need to pack up for the break. Hmm.
Well, study-break's over. Back to work for this grade slave.
It's also the Septimontium, a festival celebrating the wall that was built around all seven hills of Rome.
-----------------------
Two nights ago I blogged about people criticizing overweight people and telling them to just "diet and exercise" like it was the easiest thing in the world. I guess now I'm going to tell the other extreme. Have you ever read a pro-ana website? It's ridiculous. You think, god, these girls can't be for real; even if they think about it, surely they won't admit it. You tell me you're 5'9" and 100 lbs, and all you ate today was a half an apple and a bite of turkey, and you're so mad that you had to gain ten pounds because your boyfriend told you he'd break up with you if you didn't start taking better care of yourself? Honestly.
The trouble with either eating disorder- overeating or undereating- is that in this modern day and age, you can find someone who celebrates your unhealthy body. There are support groups for overweight people, telling them to celebrate themselves as Big Beautiful Women, ignoring the fact that they are at a greater risk of many illnesses. "Society is being spiteful," they say, "and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't diet away our lovely extra pounds."
My father always said the most basic, universal standard of beauty was health. That's why most guys like girls who are thin, but not thin enough that their bones show in weird places. That's why big boobs and some junk in the trunk is sexy. And that's why the number one standard of beauty is good skin. You will never find a website support group saying "Society is being spiteful, and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't wash our skin once a day to chase away our lovely acne."Health and weight, though, poses a problem. What's healthy? Used to be weight was a sign that you ate well enough, so weight was beautiful. Now, most people in this country can get a decent amount to eat, but we've discovered the health problems associated with being fat, so thin is in. None of this changes the fact that absolutely no fat is as unhealthy as a lot of it is. Beauty is being at your ideal weight. Not too thin or too heavy. And your ideal weight is not what you think would be a good weight to be, but rather what your doctor tells you it should be. My doctor tells me to lose a few pounds. Thus, I'm overweight. If your doctor tells you you could stand to put some meat on your bones, you could.
Look, there is nothing sexy about a preteen body with bones jutting out at weird angles. These girls set ridiculous goals and then proudly boast their accomplishments before deciding that that was easy enough, they can go further, further... And when someone tries to intervene, they say, "Society is being spiteful," they say, "and refuses to accept us because we don't fit their standard of beauty, and won't force-feed ourselves until we swell up like a balloon." Or my favorite, "They're just jealous of my body."
It seems that whatever your body type, they're jealous of it. They want to be big and beautiful, and be able to eat whatever they want without caring that they're heavy. They want to be supermodel thin, and look like the girls in the fashion magazines. Well, kids, I hate to break it to you. I don't want to look like that. I want to have muscles; a toned stomach, nice arms, great legs. I also want to hide my ribcage and keep my breasts. I want to look- and feel- healthy. I know what that means for me. Do you?Weight is not about self-image, honestly. If you listen to your doctor, and stick within what he recommends, you're fine. I'm sick of people criticizing society for not letting them stay at an unhealthy weight. Yes, it's your body, and your choice. But if your eating habits are incredibly, obviously unhealthy- or if you're in a chat room telling everyone that you're anorexic or that you're a compulsive eater, then people have the right to point it out, if they're nice about it. Especially your doctor- he doesn't just have the right, he has the responsibility.
-----------------------
That said: Being thin does not mean you're anorexic. Plenty of people are a little underweight because of their metabolism, but anorexia is when they're not trying to stay at a doctor-recommended weight. And while I've never been on this side, as far as I can tell, the only thing that compares to the challenge of loosing weight it gaining it if you have a fast metabolism. There are people who eat until they feel like they're going to explode and they can't stay at a healthy weight. There is a physical limit to how much people can eat, and these people have to push themselves past it every day. I feel bad for them. I swear that's not even a joke, can you imagine having to eat, eat, eat once your stomach already felt hard and dense as a rock? Besides, when you gain weight, you feel gross and sluggish even if your body needs it, because it's just not used to the change.
I admit, I make anorexia jokes about girls who are very thin. I'd never do that if I really thought they were ill, but that doesn't make it any more fair that I joke about anorexia but get mad if people joke about weight. The trouble is, we live in a world where a joke about someone being bone-skinny is not seen as being nearly as mean as making a joke about them being overweight. But I'm getting better. I don't make those jokes nearly as much. It's been nearly two months, I think, since I made one, besides the occasional benign "you're so skinny" comment or getting mad at a girl if she claims she's fat when her diameter is half of mine, which is really more of a "remember who you're talking to" comment than anything else.
I'm not perfect. I know what I should do, and I try, but I make a LOT of mistakes. Which is why I have so few friends.
-----------------------
Meanwhile, one of those few friends- actually, a guy that I barely consider my friend anymore, since I haven't seen him since graduation and wasn't really planning to make an effort to see him again,informed me today that he wants to meet so he can give me my Christmas present. Uhm... what? We barely spoke all senior year, we haven't really been what I'd classify "friends" since the beginning of junior year... why is he giving me a gift? Honestly, does he even know me well enough to get me something I'd like? Meanwhile this means (it was expressly implied) that I have to get
him a gift, too. And I haven't a CLUE what to get him (See gift idea #1 at right). I don't usually buy my friends Christmas gifts except for Mistake, because I've known her for so long she might as well be family. But I mean, if asked, I would have described Mack as my best friend last Christmas, and I didn't get him a gift, at least not one specifically tailored to him. And this year, it's a small gift for Mistake as always, and nothing for the rest of them unless it's something they can eat. I might bake cookies or something. The point is to make a gift they won't feel bad about accepting if they didn't get me anything, and I don't expect them to get me anything.So it's actually more of a problem than a benefit for me. Because he doesn't know me well enough to get me something I need, so I'm guessing it's either something that's obviously related to something I'm interested in, or it's just a really bad gift.
And what do I get for him? I haven't a clue what he's interested in, and I'm not about to spend more money on him that I spend on a girl I've been friends with since kindergarten, so that leaves me with a pretty small budget. Grr...
I might check the stocking-stuffer bin at the Discovery Store to see if they have anything really inexpensive that's still cool. Dammit, though, this complicates life!
-----------------------
Exam #1 is over. Bio is out of the way. Loquatia and I studied together, and we explained to each other what we didn't understand, so it was really helpful. I think I did okay. My guess is 90%, maybe 85% if we were studying something wrong or if he's really picky.
And I got an 81% in Bio lab, and an 80% in Chem lab, both a lot better than I feared, so that's good.
Tomorrow: Latin. Not too much of a concern. Then Chem on Thursday, which is a concern- a HUGE concern.
And I still need to pack up for the break. Hmm.
Well, study-break's over. Back to work for this grade slave.
Monday, December 11, 2006
I'm In A Weird Mood
Nothing of any real interest happened today, I was studying. So instead of a real post, here's a picture of an embryonic snake. Isn't it awesome the way the tail curls into a perfect spiral?-------------------------------
I also have this to offer you: a retelling of a story from Phrygian mythology. However, we only have this story though the Greeks, so it's my retelling of a Greek adaptation of a story from Phrygian mythology.
See, it appears that Zeus is more normal than you'd think, because this myth starts out with him having a wet dream while sleeping on the ground. Now, the thing about gods is that when their stuff falls on the earth, it doesn't die; it invariably impregnates the earth-goddess Gaea. This, along with the commentary from the other day on paternity suits, is why it's probably for the best that there are no Greek gods wandering around today.
Especially since the child that the rather startled and disgusted (Zeus is her GRANDSON) Gaea produced was a hermaphroditic child they called Agdistis. But the gods were afraid of Agdistis with it's two genders and the power that would give it, and they cut off it's boy parts. It was thus made into a goddess, Cybele, who was primarily worshiped by the Phyrgians as their Great Goddess and was later confused with Rhea by the Romans.
But the story does not end there! See, the gods tossed Agdistis' genitalia on the ground, and, as ALWAYS happens when you toss the severed gonads of a person on the ground (see Lorena Bobbit), an almond tree grew there. That was the first almond tree from which all almond trees of today are descended, which is an argument for not eating almonds EVER EVER AGAIN.
Anyway, unknowing of all of this, one of the daughters of the River Sangarius, Nana, was sitting under the tree one day... She, for UNFATHOMABLE REASONS that probably today would involve much psychotherapy to correct, stuck an almond up her... yeah... and became pregnant. This was naturally somewhat embarrassing, considering that she was a virgin and would have to explain how the heck she'd gotten pregnant at all, and honestly, who wants to have THAT conversation with their father?
So claimed she was getting fat and then left the baby on a mountainside to die, because that's just what they did in those days. But as ALWAYS happens, the baby, named Attis, was suckled by goats and raised by shepherds. Grew up to be quite handsome, that boy did. So much so, in fact, that Cybele fell in love with him. Not knowing, of course, that she was technically his FATHER. Attis became her devout follower on the condition that he remain chaste.
Attis left the goddess, though, and had sex with a nymph, of which there always seem to be plenty available for such trysts. Cybele was less than pleased, and she drove him insane, in which state he castrated himself. Ouch. When he came to, and realized that he'd just ensured himself a place in the Phyrgian Boy's Choir, he tried to kill himself. Cybele intervened and turned him into a fir tree. After that, the priests of Cybele were always eunuchs, which puts it into the category of Really Sucky Jobs.
I'm guessing this story needs very little embellishment- it's officially the WEIRDEST one I've found in myth archives, and that's including that swan banging Leda (the logistics of which act were discussed for quite a long time in my Myth class a few weeks ago). But see, all myths are there for a reason, so we're going to look at possible morals of this story: hmm. Well, don't jack off if there's nothing between you and the ground, but honestly, I hope everyone knew that by now. Uh, don't eat almonds, ever; hermaphrodites have superpowers; don't cheat on a goddess... oh, screw it. Moral of the story: the Greeks were WEIRD, and the Phrygians? WEIRDER.
Oh, and this amused me immensely- there is a website that tries to make connections between Attis' story and the story of Jesus. The only ones that I really get on the list is that the festival honoring Attis' birth was on Dec 25th and his mother was a virgin, sorta. The rest depends on your sources. But honestly, who comes up with this stuff?
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Okay, that's all I have for today's Weird Mythology Story of the Day. I'm basically gonna write these if there's nothing more interesting to talk about, which is usually the case. If I have time tomorrow I'll talk more about Sir Squirts-A-Lot, the ever-fascinating Heracles and his many, many adventures ("Hey guys! I remembered this cool myth that some hero did but I can't remember who did it. What should I say?" "Aw, man, just give it to Heracles like the rest of us!"), or maybe Odysseus, who loved his wife so much- he just had to get home- he couldn't think of anything else! Oh, wait, look, nice ass on that nymph... maybe he'll just rest here a moment- OKAY! NOW he can't think of anything else but his dear wife- oo, that little princess is cute... and that sorceress... Nothing compares to the comforts of home, naturally, but as long as you're on the road, might as well plow a few fields, am I right?
This is why I like mythology: there are two approaches to it. On the one hand, you can be all serious and talk about the deeper meaning of the myth and divine marriages and what it all meant to the Greeks, like much of academia. Or you can approach it like I do, take the stories at face value, and LAUGH YOUR ASS OFF. The above story is very, very significant to the culture and the dichotomy of women and men and all that jazz, but it's also so absolutely ridiculous that it's funny. This is also why I highly recommend taking mythology classes with people who are NOT classics majors and just want the credit. Their commentary is worth the homework hours.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
"Dónde están los cahones?" *
There are a million and one online blogs/discussion forums/whatever all dedicated to discussing obesity. I read one, a particularly mean one, and although I don't want to reply to them since they really don't care and will shoot me down anyway, I want to complain somewhere.
First of all. There are a lot of comments that divide up people into "healthy," "fat," and "anorexic/bulimic." Like anorexia means you're really, really skinny. Well, how's this for you- NOT EVERYONE WHO IS ANOREXIC IS SKINNY. Many of them started out actually overweight. When I was younger, I tried to be anorexic (Daddy figured it out and stopped me) because I am actually on the heavy side and it bothered me. Plenty of anorexics start out really overweight, especially middle-aged women. If an overweight woman never, ever eats in front of you, don't assume she's trying to hide her binging and goes home to eat mountains of food. She might actually be anorexic. Which is a bad way to loose weight and should not be considered as good because "at least she'll stop being so damn heavy."
Second. Yes, medical reasons are not an excuse to be overweight. Diseases that put you at risk of obesity don't mean that you won't be able to lose weight with diet and exercise. BUT. It makes it a LOT harder, and it's not their fault that it is more difficult. So cut them a bit more slack than you would your average eats-too-much-exercises-too-little person.
Third. People who are naturally thin, or who have always kept their weight down, don't realize what it's like to lose weight once you're already heavy. My parents and my sister are overweight, even more so than me. Dieting is one thing, though I'd like to see you try to diet when you're on a budget and can't afford healthy food, or when you're raising kids and they don't want to EAT healthy food, or when you're eating at a cafeteria where the healthy food is so damn nasty it drives you crazy. Also hard when you're living with people who are healthy, like my brother. My mom feels terrible making him eat diet food when he's at a healthy weight, but we always run out of the good food first, so Daddy eats the bad stuff. Also, if you're used to eating a lot, and go to eating a little, you will be hungry ALL THE TIME. Then you can't focus on school or work or anything because all you can think about is your stomach's noises.
Then there's exercising. Ever tried exercising when you loose your breath within five minutes or when your stomach/breasts bounce uncomfortably? It's miserable. And even besides that, consider this: A couple hours of exercising every day. When was the last time you thought to yourself, "Man, I always have a couple extra hours at the end of the day when I have absolutely nothing to do; no homework, no kids to chase, no work to do..."
I'm not saying that people shouldn't lose weight. I'm going to be a doctor, I'm the first to admit the healthy benefits of a proper weight. I'm just saying that I'm sick of people who have never, ever been overweight in their lives, who have never fought to loose weight or dealt with the pressure of the incredible inconvenience that losing weight is, going online under pseudonyms and talking about how "disgusting" and "lazy" overweight people are. My mother works almost non-stop at her job, telecommuting or at the office. Meanwhile she's spent the past 21 years caring for her kids as a working mom. She doesn't have TIME to devote to losing weight, because she's so busy... She's NOT lazy. Not in a million years. She just never had the time or energy to devote to losing weight after I was born, or The Brother after me. There are a lot of people out there who are overweight without being the sit-on-the-couch-and-never-move stereotype; they've just got different priorities. So all those people who rant on and on about "ugly fat chicks-" never "ugly fat men," no one cares about them- need to find themselves a pretty, perfect girl who'd rather go to the gym than care for her children or contribute to the household finances, and SHUT UP.
As a side note- any girl with a BMI of less than 23 is NOT FAT, and considering my own BMI, if I ever again hear a guy describe a stick-thin girl as "fat" because her abs are not rock-hard and she happened to have some unflattering pictures in a bikini due to an unfortunate pose, I will SIT ON HIM so he can appreciate the difference between rolls of skin with almost nothing in between them and my heavyset glory.
(Okay, so technically I'm only five to ten pounds from the high end of an appropriate weight range. I'm still in a heavier weight class than the kid I had in mind, so I fully intend to crush his rib cage if he jokes about that girl's weight again. He can, however, describe her hair as "dishwater blond" or her skin as "jaundiced" all he wants. Not that I would ever describe a girl that way. I'm just trying to offer him alternatives. He has to placate his girlfriend somehow.)
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One last thing: I would like to express the irony that last night I was offering out advice on dealing with guys. Bit like the blind leading the blind, or maybe the legally blind leading the completely so. on the plus side, I think I'm beginning to understand why a funny, silly, cute girl can best even me in the "can't get a date" arena, and it has absolutely nothing to do with weight.
It might have something to do with the fact that the most intelligent girl in the world can be amazingly unaware of what guys like in girls. I mean, I'm pretty clueless, but I at least know that the intelligence a guy seeks in a significant other is not an amazing ability to solve math problems at the speed of light, but rather a light in her eyes and wit in her tongue, and the ability to hold her own in a conversation.
The worst thing is knowing what guys are looking for, and not being able to provide it.
-----------------------------
*As stated by Mistake to Closer at lunch today....
First of all. There are a lot of comments that divide up people into "healthy," "fat," and "anorexic/bulimic." Like anorexia means you're really, really skinny. Well, how's this for you- NOT EVERYONE WHO IS ANOREXIC IS SKINNY. Many of them started out actually overweight. When I was younger, I tried to be anorexic (Daddy figured it out and stopped me) because I am actually on the heavy side and it bothered me. Plenty of anorexics start out really overweight, especially middle-aged women. If an overweight woman never, ever eats in front of you, don't assume she's trying to hide her binging and goes home to eat mountains of food. She might actually be anorexic. Which is a bad way to loose weight and should not be considered as good because "at least she'll stop being so damn heavy."
Second. Yes, medical reasons are not an excuse to be overweight. Diseases that put you at risk of obesity don't mean that you won't be able to lose weight with diet and exercise. BUT. It makes it a LOT harder, and it's not their fault that it is more difficult. So cut them a bit more slack than you would your average eats-too-much-exercises-too-little person.
Third. People who are naturally thin, or who have always kept their weight down, don't realize what it's like to lose weight once you're already heavy. My parents and my sister are overweight, even more so than me. Dieting is one thing, though I'd like to see you try to diet when you're on a budget and can't afford healthy food, or when you're raising kids and they don't want to EAT healthy food, or when you're eating at a cafeteria where the healthy food is so damn nasty it drives you crazy. Also hard when you're living with people who are healthy, like my brother. My mom feels terrible making him eat diet food when he's at a healthy weight, but we always run out of the good food first, so Daddy eats the bad stuff. Also, if you're used to eating a lot, and go to eating a little, you will be hungry ALL THE TIME. Then you can't focus on school or work or anything because all you can think about is your stomach's noises.
Then there's exercising. Ever tried exercising when you loose your breath within five minutes or when your stomach/breasts bounce uncomfortably? It's miserable. And even besides that, consider this: A couple hours of exercising every day. When was the last time you thought to yourself, "Man, I always have a couple extra hours at the end of the day when I have absolutely nothing to do; no homework, no kids to chase, no work to do..."
I'm not saying that people shouldn't lose weight. I'm going to be a doctor, I'm the first to admit the healthy benefits of a proper weight. I'm just saying that I'm sick of people who have never, ever been overweight in their lives, who have never fought to loose weight or dealt with the pressure of the incredible inconvenience that losing weight is, going online under pseudonyms and talking about how "disgusting" and "lazy" overweight people are. My mother works almost non-stop at her job, telecommuting or at the office. Meanwhile she's spent the past 21 years caring for her kids as a working mom. She doesn't have TIME to devote to losing weight, because she's so busy... She's NOT lazy. Not in a million years. She just never had the time or energy to devote to losing weight after I was born, or The Brother after me. There are a lot of people out there who are overweight without being the sit-on-the-couch-and-never-move stereotype; they've just got different priorities. So all those people who rant on and on about "ugly fat chicks-" never "ugly fat men," no one cares about them- need to find themselves a pretty, perfect girl who'd rather go to the gym than care for her children or contribute to the household finances, and SHUT UP.
As a side note- any girl with a BMI of less than 23 is NOT FAT, and considering my own BMI, if I ever again hear a guy describe a stick-thin girl as "fat" because her abs are not rock-hard and she happened to have some unflattering pictures in a bikini due to an unfortunate pose, I will SIT ON HIM so he can appreciate the difference between rolls of skin with almost nothing in between them and my heavyset glory.
(Okay, so technically I'm only five to ten pounds from the high end of an appropriate weight range. I'm still in a heavier weight class than the kid I had in mind, so I fully intend to crush his rib cage if he jokes about that girl's weight again. He can, however, describe her hair as "dishwater blond" or her skin as "jaundiced" all he wants. Not that I would ever describe a girl that way. I'm just trying to offer him alternatives. He has to placate his girlfriend somehow.)
-----------------------------
One last thing: I would like to express the irony that last night I was offering out advice on dealing with guys. Bit like the blind leading the blind, or maybe the legally blind leading the completely so. on the plus side, I think I'm beginning to understand why a funny, silly, cute girl can best even me in the "can't get a date" arena, and it has absolutely nothing to do with weight.
It might have something to do with the fact that the most intelligent girl in the world can be amazingly unaware of what guys like in girls. I mean, I'm pretty clueless, but I at least know that the intelligence a guy seeks in a significant other is not an amazing ability to solve math problems at the speed of light, but rather a light in her eyes and wit in her tongue, and the ability to hold her own in a conversation.
The worst thing is knowing what guys are looking for, and not being able to provide it.
-----------------------------
*As stated by Mistake to Closer at lunch today....
"Are you just going to keep adding on to that nickname until it is as emasculating as possible?"
I didn't get any studying done today, because the Internet was down, and then Mistake and I went to the mall instead to do some Christmas shopping, then we watched High School Musical (good) and The Perfect Score (meh) with Closer, and then sat around and were bored... Generally just didn't study.
During the "bored" time, we played Truth or Dare, a game which my mother banned me from playing ever again when I was in middle school, on account of my being really, really good at it, and consequently making the other girls do/say stuff that they later regretted, or immediately regretted, and then there was crying and complaining calls to mothers. But don't worry, no one cried tonight, at least not because of me; Closer's eyes could have welled up when Mistake hit him in the groin, but that had absolutely no Basiorana involvement.
I will recommend not playing Truth or Dare with dating couples. "Truth or Dare?" "Dare." "Kiss me." *kiss* "Truth or Dare." "Dare." "Kiss me back." *kiss*... Mistake has installed Christmas lights, which at least gives me something to look at when I examine the ceiling in an attempt to ignore the lovey-dovey nonsense in front of me. Especially when there was pantsing involved, because honestly, there's a limit to how well you want to know your friends. And that's WAY past the limit.
Walking out of their dorm, I passed a cop car, then a fire truck, then an ambulance, all headed into Stoke. I've decided that it was Mistake and Closer's fault, though I'm not sure HOW yet.
----------------------------
Last night was the Stress Fair, which was cool; we got cotton candy and played True Colors with Tibicina ("flute-player"), a girl we knew in high school. We also made stress balls by putting flour into balloons; I should say, I did, as I was the only one patient enough to finish the flouring. However, I was playing with the stress ball during the movie we went to see afterwards (Employee of the Month, pretty funny), and it broke and exploded flour all over my lap. I sat like that for the rest of the movie and then afterwards raced to the bathroom to deflour myself.
That's NOT the same as deflowering myself. Primarily because "deflowering" implies a "deflowerer" who is not the same person as the "deflowered."
Anyway. We played True Colors until Cocky Guy showed up (Cocky Guy is a guy Mistake met at orientation. We hung out with him a little at the beginning of the year, but he was apparently a bit of an ass to her and really offended her, and she always describes him as "cocky" or "jerky asshole who's so damn full of himself." Cocky is the nicer of the two [and I don't really know him so I feel bad being mean], and works as a double entendre that's almost as good as his real name, so we'll go with that). Then Tibicina and I ran through the giant blow-up obstacle course (I won both times, I am the giant blow-up obstacle course champion) while Closer and Mistake went to get movie tickets so Mistake could avoid Cocky Guy. She's pretty lucky he declined to join us when Tibicina invited him.
I know what Mistake told me about what the kid did to piss her off, but honestly, sometimes I wish she'd just let him know that she dislikes him, rather than making him think it's her being a jerk. Because honestly, if she told him "I was really offended when you did _______, and that's why I've been avoiding you" he'd probably get mad at her and stop trying to contact her, thus making her life easier, or he'd realize she had a point, apologize, and maybe try to be better about it in the future, or, more likely, somewhere in between. But honestly, she doesn't need his friendship, so what could it hurt to give him a little constructive criticism?
-----------------------------
Anyway, Tibicina works for Vector and she and I talked about it; she's actually quitting soon, though she still defended it a lot. They get some devoted people there, you know. I think it's the water, though there might be some nifty air-vent chemical-release program they've got set up.
----------------------------
But it's 2 AM, so... tired.
During the "bored" time, we played Truth or Dare, a game which my mother banned me from playing ever again when I was in middle school, on account of my being really, really good at it, and consequently making the other girls do/say stuff that they later regretted, or immediately regretted, and then there was crying and complaining calls to mothers. But don't worry, no one cried tonight, at least not because of me; Closer's eyes could have welled up when Mistake hit him in the groin, but that had absolutely no Basiorana involvement.
I will recommend not playing Truth or Dare with dating couples. "Truth or Dare?" "Dare." "Kiss me." *kiss* "Truth or Dare." "Dare." "Kiss me back." *kiss*... Mistake has installed Christmas lights, which at least gives me something to look at when I examine the ceiling in an attempt to ignore the lovey-dovey nonsense in front of me. Especially when there was pantsing involved, because honestly, there's a limit to how well you want to know your friends. And that's WAY past the limit.
Walking out of their dorm, I passed a cop car, then a fire truck, then an ambulance, all headed into Stoke. I've decided that it was Mistake and Closer's fault, though I'm not sure HOW yet.
----------------------------
Last night was the Stress Fair, which was cool; we got cotton candy and played True Colors with Tibicina ("flute-player"), a girl we knew in high school. We also made stress balls by putting flour into balloons; I should say, I did, as I was the only one patient enough to finish the flouring. However, I was playing with the stress ball during the movie we went to see afterwards (Employee of the Month, pretty funny), and it broke and exploded flour all over my lap. I sat like that for the rest of the movie and then afterwards raced to the bathroom to deflour myself.
That's NOT the same as deflowering myself. Primarily because "deflowering" implies a "deflowerer" who is not the same person as the "deflowered."
Anyway. We played True Colors until Cocky Guy showed up (Cocky Guy is a guy Mistake met at orientation. We hung out with him a little at the beginning of the year, but he was apparently a bit of an ass to her and really offended her, and she always describes him as "cocky" or "jerky asshole who's so damn full of himself." Cocky is the nicer of the two [and I don't really know him so I feel bad being mean], and works as a double entendre that's almost as good as his real name, so we'll go with that). Then Tibicina and I ran through the giant blow-up obstacle course (I won both times, I am the giant blow-up obstacle course champion) while Closer and Mistake went to get movie tickets so Mistake could avoid Cocky Guy. She's pretty lucky he declined to join us when Tibicina invited him.
I know what Mistake told me about what the kid did to piss her off, but honestly, sometimes I wish she'd just let him know that she dislikes him, rather than making him think it's her being a jerk. Because honestly, if she told him "I was really offended when you did _______, and that's why I've been avoiding you" he'd probably get mad at her and stop trying to contact her, thus making her life easier, or he'd realize she had a point, apologize, and maybe try to be better about it in the future, or, more likely, somewhere in between. But honestly, she doesn't need his friendship, so what could it hurt to give him a little constructive criticism?
-----------------------------
Anyway, Tibicina works for Vector and she and I talked about it; she's actually quitting soon, though she still defended it a lot. They get some devoted people there, you know. I think it's the water, though there might be some nifty air-vent chemical-release program they've got set up.
----------------------------
But it's 2 AM, so... tired.
Friday, December 8, 2006
The Snow Dance Worked, The Ground Is White!
I was wondering if I should change my blog name. I mean, sure, it's catchy and cute and goes well with "Basiorana," meaning "I kiss the frog" or, if you want to be literal, "I, the frog, kiss" which is not nearly as cool, but to translate directly involves the insertion of an "m" at the end and "Basioranam" is not nearly as rad as "Basiorana."
BUT I digress. Despite the high quality name I have for this here blog, the name is not really accurate. I mean, sure, it speaks of my pathetic desperation, but it implies that I actually am kissing people. Which is inaccurate, as the only frogs I have kissed are the amphibious sort that don't change into anything cool when you kiss them, much to my seven-year-old chagrin. The only human I've kissed was not actually a frog, but in fact a prince, if by prince you mean "Kal-El, Prince of the Planet Krypton" since I'm still pretty sure he's Superman and hasn't told us yet.
Actually, I don't know if Superman was a prince on his home planet... Hang on while I check Wikipedia... Oh. Nope, not a prince, just the "Last Son of Krypton." Bummer. Anyway, mild-mannered Clark Kent aside, there is still the matter of the name. So I think I need a disclaimer on the top of the page: "The Amphibious Sort."
----------------------
Thanks to doing some online research, I'm starting to worry about the Vector job. People have had bad experiences, it seems; first a guy in Group mentioned that his friend had a bad experience, and then there's a blog that contains lots of negative (and some positive) information: Cutco Complaints. Like the claim that you have to sell to husband and wife at the same time (absolutely MORONIC, if there's one thing Girl Scouts have taught me it's that people buy more without their spouse to criticize), or that employers try to make employees feel ashamed about asking for base pay.
And there's talk about them not giving you any referrals- making you get all your own from family and friends. Well, I can think of maybe, uh, three couples that fit the demographic and that it wouldn't be a total waste of time to go to. Since I don't expect to get commission for those sales- I mean, I might be able to convince, say, Mistake's folks to sit down and listen to the presentation, but I'm not gonna expect them to actually buy anything. Same for my folks, even though Mummy needs knives. I might convince her to buy the $135 knife set from me afterwards, but I doubt I'd get her to pay $500 for knives. So if they don't give me referrals, there wasn't much point in hiring me.
Plus, you know, there was a lot of complaint about pushy salespeople, despite what they said in the interview about that being a good way to get fired. I was gonna e-mail my questions to the manager, but he doesn't have an address available. So I was going to call him, but I'm really uncomfortable confronting him over the phone.
You know what? I was thinking I'd go with the job anyway, since I didn't have another choice and all, but honestly, I should not feel uncomfortable about a job. If it's making me uneasy, I shouldn't do it. And I got a call from TJ Maxx today saying that I got that job, he just has to check my references. Plus I'll have full-time work at a company that I haven't heard anything bad about. So as soon as he confirms next week that my references are sound and I can have the job, I'm calling Vector and telling them that I changed my mind.
But man, was I panicking last night, when I thought I had to take the Vector job or not have anything to put on my resume for the summer. I felt kinda crappy and down before I went to bed, and my chest hurt like it does when I get anxious. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed about stripping.
----------------------
So I never did mention what I did last Sunday. Well, my family went to this Cultural Bazaar down at Harvard. They have merchants selling for lots of money things you can get for pennies overseas, but a percentage of it goes to help indigenous tribes, so I didn't mind too much. There was an Indian dancer who performed with bells on her feet, that was cool, and there was good Indian food, and all kinds of cool stuff, like a Native American man who sold gorgeous dream catchers and a Thai man with cool hair sticks. I bought some Christmas presents.
Anyway, that's only mildly interesting and has little or no continuing importance on my life. More important is that while we were taking the red line into Boston I happened to see a poster advertising this study they're doing at Harvard, on personality and family. They were looking for volunteers and promised $275 for three hours of questioning and 20 ml of blood (meh, I'm not really using that stuff anyway). You have to sign up two family members as well and they have to undergo the same thing and get paid the same. Other requirement, for anyone who's thinking this sounds like a good thing to sign up for, is that everyone must be over 18 and one must have a history of depression (me, I've got all three with a history of depression, between my sister and mom, but that's a different problem).
I called and the woman in charge gave me a quick interview to see if I qualify; suggestion: never agree to an interview regarding your psychiatric health while in a dorm room with your roommates and the door open; and then once she confirmed that I was, in fact, quite insane, she arranged for me to come in on the first Friday in January at 1:00, at which time I hope that the TJ Maxx hours will be calming down. She said that they call the family members and have them come in at different times, later on, so Shrewd and Mummy can pick whatever time works best for them.
So yes. Basio is selling her body for science. I have ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THIS. There is quite a lot you can consequently say about my personality because of this, but let's not go there.
---------------------
There was a news article on CNN during breakfast today about those Wii game controllers that came out recently. You hold the controller and move your hand, and then your movement is picked up by the thing and translated into your video game character. Problem is, people get a little over-energetic, and the things fly out of their hands and into lamps/windows/plasma screen TVs. Oops.
This is hilarious to me. Besides the image of somebody explaining to their landlord why they put a hole through their glass window with a game controller, the very idea that you'd have a Wii is kinda pointless. I mean, you want to move around? GO OUTSIDE. Or to the gym, if it's a day like today. Or SOMETHING, I mean, they've got like fantasy tennis and stuff, and you can be just as active playing fantasy tennis as real tennis, and honestly, that's like the most ridiculous idea ever.
I guess it's like DDR- designed to be played in the privacy of your own home, so you don't embarrass yourself with your terrible skills. I dunno. I like computer games well enough, but I mostly like cheat codes so I can annihilate the ancient Romans with rocket-launchers on my cars. And Sims amuses me because it's essentially social interaction without the actual social interaction.
I can't wait until we develop HoloDeck technology, and people can immerse themselves in a fantasy world. Give them a world with cool weaponry and hot girls and feed them. Next thing you know, the population will decrease drastically. OO! New plan for world domination! TO THE WAR ROOM!
---------------------
That funeral I mentioned earlier this week, in Somerville, is on Monday, so I can't go. Finals. The wake is Sunday night, though, and I can't decide if I should go or not. On the one hand, I'd like to pay my respects; on the other, no one will judge me if I don't go since it's finals week, and it would consume all of Sunday afternoon. I have to think.
---------------------
Today was the last day of class for the semester. Tonight Mistake, Closer and I are going to this Stress Fair thing, which is not, apparently, a fair where you go to get stressed, but rather a fair to address the problem of stress. Only mildly disappointing. Then tomorrow I may or may not be going to a frat party, depending on the final verdict from Mistake and Closer and their gang, which is not actually a gang, because they don't wear bandannas. Most of the time. Then it's study, study, study, test, study, test, study, test, study, test, home. Fun and exciting, no?
BUT I digress. Despite the high quality name I have for this here blog, the name is not really accurate. I mean, sure, it speaks of my pathetic desperation, but it implies that I actually am kissing people. Which is inaccurate, as the only frogs I have kissed are the amphibious sort that don't change into anything cool when you kiss them, much to my seven-year-old chagrin. The only human I've kissed was not actually a frog, but in fact a prince, if by prince you mean "Kal-El, Prince of the Planet Krypton" since I'm still pretty sure he's Superman and hasn't told us yet.
Actually, I don't know if Superman was a prince on his home planet... Hang on while I check Wikipedia... Oh. Nope, not a prince, just the "Last Son of Krypton." Bummer. Anyway, mild-mannered Clark Kent aside, there is still the matter of the name. So I think I need a disclaimer on the top of the page: "The Amphibious Sort."
----------------------
Thanks to doing some online research, I'm starting to worry about the Vector job. People have had bad experiences, it seems; first a guy in Group mentioned that his friend had a bad experience, and then there's a blog that contains lots of negative (and some positive) information: Cutco Complaints. Like the claim that you have to sell to husband and wife at the same time (absolutely MORONIC, if there's one thing Girl Scouts have taught me it's that people buy more without their spouse to criticize), or that employers try to make employees feel ashamed about asking for base pay.
And there's talk about them not giving you any referrals- making you get all your own from family and friends. Well, I can think of maybe, uh, three couples that fit the demographic and that it wouldn't be a total waste of time to go to. Since I don't expect to get commission for those sales- I mean, I might be able to convince, say, Mistake's folks to sit down and listen to the presentation, but I'm not gonna expect them to actually buy anything. Same for my folks, even though Mummy needs knives. I might convince her to buy the $135 knife set from me afterwards, but I doubt I'd get her to pay $500 for knives. So if they don't give me referrals, there wasn't much point in hiring me.
Plus, you know, there was a lot of complaint about pushy salespeople, despite what they said in the interview about that being a good way to get fired. I was gonna e-mail my questions to the manager, but he doesn't have an address available. So I was going to call him, but I'm really uncomfortable confronting him over the phone.
You know what? I was thinking I'd go with the job anyway, since I didn't have another choice and all, but honestly, I should not feel uncomfortable about a job. If it's making me uneasy, I shouldn't do it. And I got a call from TJ Maxx today saying that I got that job, he just has to check my references. Plus I'll have full-time work at a company that I haven't heard anything bad about. So as soon as he confirms next week that my references are sound and I can have the job, I'm calling Vector and telling them that I changed my mind.
But man, was I panicking last night, when I thought I had to take the Vector job or not have anything to put on my resume for the summer. I felt kinda crappy and down before I went to bed, and my chest hurt like it does when I get anxious. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed about stripping.
----------------------
So I never did mention what I did last Sunday. Well, my family went to this Cultural Bazaar down at Harvard. They have merchants selling for lots of money things you can get for pennies overseas, but a percentage of it goes to help indigenous tribes, so I didn't mind too much. There was an Indian dancer who performed with bells on her feet, that was cool, and there was good Indian food, and all kinds of cool stuff, like a Native American man who sold gorgeous dream catchers and a Thai man with cool hair sticks. I bought some Christmas presents.
Anyway, that's only mildly interesting and has little or no continuing importance on my life. More important is that while we were taking the red line into Boston I happened to see a poster advertising this study they're doing at Harvard, on personality and family. They were looking for volunteers and promised $275 for three hours of questioning and 20 ml of blood (meh, I'm not really using that stuff anyway). You have to sign up two family members as well and they have to undergo the same thing and get paid the same. Other requirement, for anyone who's thinking this sounds like a good thing to sign up for, is that everyone must be over 18 and one must have a history of depression (me, I've got all three with a history of depression, between my sister and mom, but that's a different problem).
I called and the woman in charge gave me a quick interview to see if I qualify; suggestion: never agree to an interview regarding your psychiatric health while in a dorm room with your roommates and the door open; and then once she confirmed that I was, in fact, quite insane, she arranged for me to come in on the first Friday in January at 1:00, at which time I hope that the TJ Maxx hours will be calming down. She said that they call the family members and have them come in at different times, later on, so Shrewd and Mummy can pick whatever time works best for them.
So yes. Basio is selling her body for science. I have ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THIS. There is quite a lot you can consequently say about my personality because of this, but let's not go there.
---------------------
There was a news article on CNN during breakfast today about those Wii game controllers that came out recently. You hold the controller and move your hand, and then your movement is picked up by the thing and translated into your video game character. Problem is, people get a little over-energetic, and the things fly out of their hands and into lamps/windows/plasma screen TVs. Oops.
This is hilarious to me. Besides the image of somebody explaining to their landlord why they put a hole through their glass window with a game controller, the very idea that you'd have a Wii is kinda pointless. I mean, you want to move around? GO OUTSIDE. Or to the gym, if it's a day like today. Or SOMETHING, I mean, they've got like fantasy tennis and stuff, and you can be just as active playing fantasy tennis as real tennis, and honestly, that's like the most ridiculous idea ever.
I guess it's like DDR- designed to be played in the privacy of your own home, so you don't embarrass yourself with your terrible skills. I dunno. I like computer games well enough, but I mostly like cheat codes so I can annihilate the ancient Romans with rocket-launchers on my cars. And Sims amuses me because it's essentially social interaction without the actual social interaction.
I can't wait until we develop HoloDeck technology, and people can immerse themselves in a fantasy world. Give them a world with cool weaponry and hot girls and feed them. Next thing you know, the population will decrease drastically. OO! New plan for world domination! TO THE WAR ROOM!
---------------------
That funeral I mentioned earlier this week, in Somerville, is on Monday, so I can't go. Finals. The wake is Sunday night, though, and I can't decide if I should go or not. On the one hand, I'd like to pay my respects; on the other, no one will judge me if I don't go since it's finals week, and it would consume all of Sunday afternoon. I have to think.
---------------------
Today was the last day of class for the semester. Tonight Mistake, Closer and I are going to this Stress Fair thing, which is not, apparently, a fair where you go to get stressed, but rather a fair to address the problem of stress. Only mildly disappointing. Then tomorrow I may or may not be going to a frat party, depending on the final verdict from Mistake and Closer and their gang, which is not actually a gang, because they don't wear bandannas. Most of the time. Then it's study, study, study, test, study, test, study, test, study, test, home. Fun and exciting, no?
Thursday, December 7, 2006
Life is much less interesting without fortune-cookie titles
I have this final paper to do for Bio, on... anything Biology related. Gotta love vague topics. So anyway, the trouble is that it's 7-10 pages. So I was going to do it on a disease like everyone else, figuring that would be easy to research, but fatal flaw- there's only so much you can SAY about a disease. Like, sure, the important ones can have whole books written about them, but your average non-epidemic disease is kinda limited. Besides, I kinda wanted to do something that someone who doesn't actually have a certain illness would care about.
So I figured I'd do it on x-ray crystallography. Here's my approach: If my mom can read it and say, "Oh, that's fascinating! But I don't really understand the science of it," then it's a good paper. For those of you who haven't a clue what I'm talking about, crystallography is how they know what molecules look like. Molecules are too small for even microscopes, but yet scientists know how they are put together. They do this though crystallizing the substance and shooting x-rays through it, and measuring how the rays are diffracted. It's pretty cool and I only marginally understand it. So I'm going to try to understand it and then I'm going to write a paper on it.
And my doing a paper on x-ray crystallography has NOTHING WHATSOEVER to do with the fact that my professor loves the subject and wants to try it before he dies. Not a bit. Nope.
---------------------------
I discovered a new life form today! It was very exciting. I named him Moe and then Moe and I had a tearful goodbye before I washed him and his three-month-old jello-y home down the sink. Moral of this story: Basiorana ought to clean that fridge out more often.
---------------------------
I actually look presentable right now, but believe me, it was not an easy ride. My skirt, for example, is safety-pinned so it doesn't slip down too low, not for modesty's sake, but because it's supposed to rest at my WAIST, as in, that part that dips in, not the belly-button or the hips. I'd complain a lot more if this didn't mean I was loosing weight.
Meanwhile, the only marginally clean blouse I could find stretches so tight across my chest that I'm kinda concerned that it will rip open any moment now and I will be forced to live out some kind of weird version of a trashy supermarket novel. Actually, that's a pretty bad description, since it doesn't sound NEARLY as problematic as my shirt bursting open would be. Suffice it to say, though, that just because a fabric stretches, does not mean it fits. I really need new shirts, and then, I need to THROW THESE ONES OUT.
And then, there's the hair. My hair is SO GROSS right now. It's also ridiculously long. Actually, some of it is. It's really all different lengths, so the last inch is composed of about 1/3 of the hair that is actually on my head. I started the day in a braid, but it quickly frizzed and worked it's way free to escape in messy glory. So I poured a gallon of hair gel into it and pulled it up into a bun on the top of my head. So there.
I have won this battle, Oh Wretched Hair. But don't think I rest easy, for I know that tomorrow will be a struggle of equally Biblical proportions.
---------------------------
Okay, so last night was my last Chem lab ever, and after the INCREDIBLY SCARY moment when she was assigning groups and I swear I thought that the group doing methane with me consisted of Incredibly Hot Guy, shorter-but-still-hot Flirts With TAs, and this guy that hangs out with them who's also surprisingly attractive. Thank GOD I heard wrong, that would have ended oh-so-badly. I only wound up with Surprisingly Attractive Guy. You won't understand why I call him that unless you see him, and you won't see him unless I tell you his real name, and I won't tell you his real name unless I get a head injury...
Anyway, we were looking at methane because it's a greenhouse gas, and then we had to find ways to reduce methane in the atmosphere, and honestly, the best we could come up with is stop raising cows for meat, because that's where 14% of the atmosphere's methane comes from- domestic livestock. Don't think about it. So next time someone asks me why I don't eat beef, I'm totally gonna say, "COWS CAUSE GLOBAL WARMING!" and whip out the statistics chart I happen to have in my back pocket.
We made posters and then graded each other's posters, based on content and "wow factor," how impressed we were by it. The most "wow" one had to be the one with the farting cow on it, and in the cloud was methane facts. Only it wasn't a "Wow, great poster" so much as a "Wow. You put a FARTING COW on your poster." But I said wow, so they got the points.
---------------------------
The last Group session was today, with 3/8ths of us present- man. I'm the only one who hasn't missed a meeting since I started, which was after the first meeting. Anyway, not much accomplished, but I learned that the guy in Group that I refuse to admit is attractive because he's in Group and at least as messed up as me (that was going to be his name, or GIGTIRTAIABHIGAALAMUAM [pronounced Gig-teer-tay-ab-hee-gah-al-ah-moo-am] for short, but I thought that that was just unfair, especially considering the acronym is longer than most names I use) is going to do the Art Therapy group next semester, so if that works out for me, we might be in Group together again. Not entirely sure if that's an incentive, you know, familiar face, or not. Meh. Not that I'd make my choices based on one kid anyway. Hmm...
---------------------------
I've been reading blogs, as in, blogs other than those of people I know, and there's this neat feature on the modestly named Bestest Blog Of All Time which picks out a random blog for you and notes the good ones. Some of them I found kinda boring, but there are these ones: Nate is a Blog, which is funny random, and Dating Profile of the Day, which amuses me in the "oh god there are people like that out there" sense.
One blog I found only mildly interesting, save this quote: "Nonetheless, it matters to me that Canada is fair and just, even if it doesn't jive with my jehovah." (Shanthology). Jive with my jehovah? I want excuses to use that phrase in everyday life.
Some other note-worthy blogs I've found include Kissing Frogs, a collection of bad dates, and Go Fug Yourself, which is like a Worst Dressed column in a news magazine only funnier. I'll put these all in my blog list later.
But if you're really bored, check out Bestest Blog of All Time and cycle through the random blogs. Seriously. There are a lot of bad writers in the blogsphere, but there's lots of good ones, too.
---------------------------
Hmm. There seems to be something I should do right now... something... related to the fact I'm in college... and have my last day of class tomorrow... hang on, it's coming to me... OH YEAH homework. Damn.
So I figured I'd do it on x-ray crystallography. Here's my approach: If my mom can read it and say, "Oh, that's fascinating! But I don't really understand the science of it," then it's a good paper. For those of you who haven't a clue what I'm talking about, crystallography is how they know what molecules look like. Molecules are too small for even microscopes, but yet scientists know how they are put together. They do this though crystallizing the substance and shooting x-rays through it, and measuring how the rays are diffracted. It's pretty cool and I only marginally understand it. So I'm going to try to understand it and then I'm going to write a paper on it.
And my doing a paper on x-ray crystallography has NOTHING WHATSOEVER to do with the fact that my professor loves the subject and wants to try it before he dies. Not a bit. Nope.
---------------------------
I discovered a new life form today! It was very exciting. I named him Moe and then Moe and I had a tearful goodbye before I washed him and his three-month-old jello-y home down the sink. Moral of this story: Basiorana ought to clean that fridge out more often.
---------------------------
I actually look presentable right now, but believe me, it was not an easy ride. My skirt, for example, is safety-pinned so it doesn't slip down too low, not for modesty's sake, but because it's supposed to rest at my WAIST, as in, that part that dips in, not the belly-button or the hips. I'd complain a lot more if this didn't mean I was loosing weight.
Meanwhile, the only marginally clean blouse I could find stretches so tight across my chest that I'm kinda concerned that it will rip open any moment now and I will be forced to live out some kind of weird version of a trashy supermarket novel. Actually, that's a pretty bad description, since it doesn't sound NEARLY as problematic as my shirt bursting open would be. Suffice it to say, though, that just because a fabric stretches, does not mean it fits. I really need new shirts, and then, I need to THROW THESE ONES OUT.
And then, there's the hair. My hair is SO GROSS right now. It's also ridiculously long. Actually, some of it is. It's really all different lengths, so the last inch is composed of about 1/3 of the hair that is actually on my head. I started the day in a braid, but it quickly frizzed and worked it's way free to escape in messy glory. So I poured a gallon of hair gel into it and pulled it up into a bun on the top of my head. So there.
I have won this battle, Oh Wretched Hair. But don't think I rest easy, for I know that tomorrow will be a struggle of equally Biblical proportions.
---------------------------
Okay, so last night was my last Chem lab ever, and after the INCREDIBLY SCARY moment when she was assigning groups and I swear I thought that the group doing methane with me consisted of Incredibly Hot Guy, shorter-but-still-hot Flirts With TAs, and this guy that hangs out with them who's also surprisingly attractive. Thank GOD I heard wrong, that would have ended oh-so-badly. I only wound up with Surprisingly Attractive Guy. You won't understand why I call him that unless you see him, and you won't see him unless I tell you his real name, and I won't tell you his real name unless I get a head injury...
Anyway, we were looking at methane because it's a greenhouse gas, and then we had to find ways to reduce methane in the atmosphere, and honestly, the best we could come up with is stop raising cows for meat, because that's where 14% of the atmosphere's methane comes from- domestic livestock. Don't think about it. So next time someone asks me why I don't eat beef, I'm totally gonna say, "COWS CAUSE GLOBAL WARMING!" and whip out the statistics chart I happen to have in my back pocket.
We made posters and then graded each other's posters, based on content and "wow factor," how impressed we were by it. The most "wow" one had to be the one with the farting cow on it, and in the cloud was methane facts. Only it wasn't a "Wow, great poster" so much as a "Wow. You put a FARTING COW on your poster." But I said wow, so they got the points.
---------------------------
The last Group session was today, with 3/8ths of us present- man. I'm the only one who hasn't missed a meeting since I started, which was after the first meeting. Anyway, not much accomplished, but I learned that the guy in Group that I refuse to admit is attractive because he's in Group and at least as messed up as me (that was going to be his name, or GIGTIRTAIABHIGAALAMUAM [pronounced Gig-teer-tay-ab-hee-gah-al-ah-moo-am] for short, but I thought that that was just unfair, especially considering the acronym is longer than most names I use) is going to do the Art Therapy group next semester, so if that works out for me, we might be in Group together again. Not entirely sure if that's an incentive, you know, familiar face, or not. Meh. Not that I'd make my choices based on one kid anyway. Hmm...
---------------------------
I've been reading blogs, as in, blogs other than those of people I know, and there's this neat feature on the modestly named Bestest Blog Of All Time which picks out a random blog for you and notes the good ones. Some of them I found kinda boring, but there are these ones: Nate is a Blog, which is funny random, and Dating Profile of the Day, which amuses me in the "oh god there are people like that out there" sense.
One blog I found only mildly interesting, save this quote: "Nonetheless, it matters to me that Canada is fair and just, even if it doesn't jive with my jehovah." (Shanthology). Jive with my jehovah? I want excuses to use that phrase in everyday life.
Some other note-worthy blogs I've found include Kissing Frogs, a collection of bad dates, and Go Fug Yourself, which is like a Worst Dressed column in a news magazine only funnier. I'll put these all in my blog list later.
But if you're really bored, check out Bestest Blog of All Time and cycle through the random blogs. Seriously. There are a lot of bad writers in the blogsphere, but there's lots of good ones, too.
---------------------------
Hmm. There seems to be something I should do right now... something... related to the fact I'm in college... and have my last day of class tomorrow... hang on, it's coming to me... OH YEAH homework. Damn.
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
Quick Update and a Funny Bit Of Rambling
There was a death in my family yesterday. A very nice man, my father's brother-in-law's father, died at the age of- well, I can't remember the exact number, but over 90. He'd been sick for a while; I confess I'm not horribly shocked. Still, it's sad. I don't know if I'll be able to go to the funeral or not, considering that it's in Somerville, Mass, this weekend. I feel kinda bad- I want to pay my respects- but I don't think it will work out. It's a pretty long drive, especially when you tack on an extra hour for my parents to come get me.
-----------------------
Not much else to report; my life has been consumed by schoolwork. Tacita's definitely moving out next semester, it's finalized and everything. I've been eating lots of Ramen noodles. As in, an extreme amount. Like, that's all I eat for lunch and dinner. I feel collegiate. Or maybe just poor.
There's a holiday dinner tonight, though. Best go early.
-----------------------
Oh, but today in Myth class, the professor was talking about Achilles, the Greek hero of the Trojan War. See, Achilles' prophetic mother Thetis knew that if Achilles went to war, he'd die there. So Thetis dressed Achilles like a woman and sent him to live on the island of Scyros, hiding among the king's daughters. The Greeks discovered him when they came to Scyros, looking for him, and tested Lycomedes' wives and children by placing out two boxes as if they were merchants. The first box had combs, and jewels, and pretty clothes; the second had cool weaponry. Of course, Achilles went for the swords, while the women looked at the jewels, and the ruse was discovered, so he went to war after all.
Now, I'm sitting there smiling to myself as Clairmont says this, because I'm thinking about what it says about society at that time and the misogynism of Homer that a girl can't play with weaponry (I mean, really- clothes and jewels or a sharp blade? Which would you choose?). Then he says, "Now, one of the girls DID discover that Achilles was a young man, and she became pregnant..."
Oh yeah. THAT'S why girls don't play with swords.
Seriously, can you imagine how that went? Deidameia walks in on Achilles changing or something, and says, "Oh, I'm sorr- OH MY GOD YOU'RE NOT A GIRL! ...you're not a girl... and... WOW you wanna put that away? I mean, uhm... yeah... well... I guess I can overlook the fact that you've been cros-sdressing and hiding amongst my sisters and I for a while, and we'll just have sex right now, shall we?"
And naturally, Achilles is a hero, so he must have superior sperm. Like Heracles, who I like to think of as "Slow-Withdraw McGraw" or "Why They Invented Condoms." Honestly, not even Zeus had that many children in a 40-year-lifespan. For some reason, being a war hero with divine parentage means that you're free from impotence. Luckily for them, patrimony was a later invention.
It's probably for the best that anyone today boasting a divine parent lives in a box and wears tinfoil on their head. Besides the adversity Achilles would have to Trojans, your average hero would spend a FORTUNE in child support.
-----------------------
Not much else to report; my life has been consumed by schoolwork. Tacita's definitely moving out next semester, it's finalized and everything. I've been eating lots of Ramen noodles. As in, an extreme amount. Like, that's all I eat for lunch and dinner. I feel collegiate. Or maybe just poor.
There's a holiday dinner tonight, though. Best go early.
-----------------------
Oh, but today in Myth class, the professor was talking about Achilles, the Greek hero of the Trojan War. See, Achilles' prophetic mother Thetis knew that if Achilles went to war, he'd die there. So Thetis dressed Achilles like a woman and sent him to live on the island of Scyros, hiding among the king's daughters. The Greeks discovered him when they came to Scyros, looking for him, and tested Lycomedes' wives and children by placing out two boxes as if they were merchants. The first box had combs, and jewels, and pretty clothes; the second had cool weaponry. Of course, Achilles went for the swords, while the women looked at the jewels, and the ruse was discovered, so he went to war after all.
Now, I'm sitting there smiling to myself as Clairmont says this, because I'm thinking about what it says about society at that time and the misogynism of Homer that a girl can't play with weaponry (I mean, really- clothes and jewels or a sharp blade? Which would you choose?). Then he says, "Now, one of the girls DID discover that Achilles was a young man, and she became pregnant..."
Oh yeah. THAT'S why girls don't play with swords.
Seriously, can you imagine how that went? Deidameia walks in on Achilles changing or something, and says, "Oh, I'm sorr- OH MY GOD YOU'RE NOT A GIRL! ...you're not a girl... and... WOW you wanna put that away? I mean, uhm... yeah... well... I guess I can overlook the fact that you've been cros-sdressing and hiding amongst my sisters and I for a while, and we'll just have sex right now, shall we?"
And naturally, Achilles is a hero, so he must have superior sperm. Like Heracles, who I like to think of as "Slow-Withdraw McGraw" or "Why They Invented Condoms." Honestly, not even Zeus had that many children in a 40-year-lifespan. For some reason, being a war hero with divine parentage means that you're free from impotence. Luckily for them, patrimony was a later invention.
It's probably for the best that anyone today boasting a divine parent lives in a box and wears tinfoil on their head. Besides the adversity Achilles would have to Trojans, your average hero would spend a FORTUNE in child support.
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
Good news!
I met with the school psychiatrist today. And I told him that I very rarely remember to take my meds, which is a lie. I haven't taken them AT ALL in almost two months. But the point is, I'm fine, and stable, thanks to a combination of a) therapy, b) group therapy that focuses on the most distressing problem I have, c) my dad constantly telling me, every time I go home, how much thinner I look, d) realizing I actually look kinda pretty when I wear makeup and big hoop earrings and do something semi-decent with my hair, and e) not thinking about every guy I meet as a potential date opportunity, thus not getting disappointed when he invariably winds up having a girlfriend.
All these factors have improved my overall mood, and none of them are so hard to maintain (unless Daddy decides I'm not loosing weight after all or something) that I can't continue to pass as a normal, stable human being. And as long as that's the case, according to the doctor, I don't have to take mind-altering medication.
BASIORANA's DRUG FREE! WOOT!
Well, not quite, I mean, I still have pills to take, but everything I am currently putting into my body is a dietary supplement, all-natural food, or whatever that stuff in the cafeteria is. The all-natural stuff is rare... But still. I swore I was going to be off my meds by senior year of college- how awesome would it be if that goal was accomplished freshman year?
-----------------------------
Mistake has invited me to go with her and some of her friends to a frat party. Don't worry, none of the group intends to drink- I mean, it's got Mistake and Closer, and they're good people. They'll probably try to find a party that's a little less alcohol oriented. Also, the very fact that Closer will be there means it's gonna be fairly safe, since the really bad parties don't let guys in if they aren't in the frat.
I will mostly likely go and spend much of the time in the corner being nervously non-social and still feel a sense of accomplishment for getting out of the room at all. Then I will be able to say I went to a frat party during my college career, and thus one-up both my mother and my sister. Mind you, my sister's lack of frat parties in her social resume is probably more because Brandeis doesn't HAVE frats. Besides the Jewish one, which is intercollegiate. But a lack of frat houses tends to indicate a lack of frat parties.
Mummy just doesn't like parties. She's like, more shy than I am, only she doesn't particularly care enough to make an effort to change, especially not NOW.
Oh, speaking of parties, if anyone reading this knows my sister Shrewd, TELL HER TO GO TO HER SENIOR SEMI FORMAL. Because Shrewd didn't go to Prom, and this is her last chance to go to a big dance with all her friends until the weddings start. The issue is she doesn't want to go alone, and she has a friend she could go with, but she's too shy/awkward/embarrassed to ask him, despite the fact that it's not a DATE date, and it would be awkward for about FIVE SECONDS after the asking. Unless she has a friend like Mistake around who would make the entire circumstance much more awkward than it has to be, and thus provide her with emotional blackmail for the next five or six years of their friendship. (If you don't know this story, it's probably for your own good. That time period was the closest my life ever got to a soap opera, contrary to what Closer believes.)
But I digress. Tell Shrewd to get over herself and ask her buddy to escort her, because she needs a dance-like experience on her social resume and I want to have a picture more recent than senior year where she actually looks pretty, and not like a deranged chipmunk in junky old clothes like she does in EVERY FAMILY PHOTO, because she's usually laughing her head off.
Which says a lot about her personality, in that she's a cheerful sort, but also something about her chuckling, in that it needs work because laughter should not make one look like a deranged chipmunk. Not that I should talk, my laughter sounds like either a donkey, a woodpecker, or a pothead monkey. But I LOOK fine.
---------------------------
Last weekend, I managed to come back from my visit home without leaving anything important. This is good. Not so good is that instead of forgetting stuff, I brought stuff with me. Specifically the key to the Contour, the car I was using to get to interviews. I discovered the key in my coat pocket. So I called and informed Mummy, and then she asked me where the spare key was. I said, "This is the spare key." "Then where's MY key, that I gave you on Saturday?"
Oops. That would be the bottom of my purse.
Thank God, there was ONE key I left behind, which ironically was the one that was actually mine, and on my key chain. So if it snows before I can get home, they can at least move the car...
Is it just me, or do I seem to be the sort who, if she ever got plastered (like that would happen), would wake up with a traffic sign she'd never seen before, and no pants?
--------------------------
In other news... Basiorana needs to stop procrastinating. Like, NOW. Time for homework.
All these factors have improved my overall mood, and none of them are so hard to maintain (unless Daddy decides I'm not loosing weight after all or something) that I can't continue to pass as a normal, stable human being. And as long as that's the case, according to the doctor, I don't have to take mind-altering medication.
BASIORANA's DRUG FREE! WOOT!
Well, not quite, I mean, I still have pills to take, but everything I am currently putting into my body is a dietary supplement, all-natural food, or whatever that stuff in the cafeteria is. The all-natural stuff is rare... But still. I swore I was going to be off my meds by senior year of college- how awesome would it be if that goal was accomplished freshman year?
-----------------------------
Mistake has invited me to go with her and some of her friends to a frat party. Don't worry, none of the group intends to drink- I mean, it's got Mistake and Closer, and they're good people. They'll probably try to find a party that's a little less alcohol oriented. Also, the very fact that Closer will be there means it's gonna be fairly safe, since the really bad parties don't let guys in if they aren't in the frat.
I will mostly likely go and spend much of the time in the corner being nervously non-social and still feel a sense of accomplishment for getting out of the room at all. Then I will be able to say I went to a frat party during my college career, and thus one-up both my mother and my sister. Mind you, my sister's lack of frat parties in her social resume is probably more because Brandeis doesn't HAVE frats. Besides the Jewish one, which is intercollegiate. But a lack of frat houses tends to indicate a lack of frat parties.
Mummy just doesn't like parties. She's like, more shy than I am, only she doesn't particularly care enough to make an effort to change, especially not NOW.
Oh, speaking of parties, if anyone reading this knows my sister Shrewd, TELL HER TO GO TO HER SENIOR SEMI FORMAL. Because Shrewd didn't go to Prom, and this is her last chance to go to a big dance with all her friends until the weddings start. The issue is she doesn't want to go alone, and she has a friend she could go with, but she's too shy/awkward/embarrassed to ask him, despite the fact that it's not a DATE date, and it would be awkward for about FIVE SECONDS after the asking. Unless she has a friend like Mistake around who would make the entire circumstance much more awkward than it has to be, and thus provide her with emotional blackmail for the next five or six years of their friendship. (If you don't know this story, it's probably for your own good. That time period was the closest my life ever got to a soap opera, contrary to what Closer believes.)
But I digress. Tell Shrewd to get over herself and ask her buddy to escort her, because she needs a dance-like experience on her social resume and I want to have a picture more recent than senior year where she actually looks pretty, and not like a deranged chipmunk in junky old clothes like she does in EVERY FAMILY PHOTO, because she's usually laughing her head off.
Which says a lot about her personality, in that she's a cheerful sort, but also something about her chuckling, in that it needs work because laughter should not make one look like a deranged chipmunk. Not that I should talk, my laughter sounds like either a donkey, a woodpecker, or a pothead monkey. But I LOOK fine.
---------------------------
Last weekend, I managed to come back from my visit home without leaving anything important. This is good. Not so good is that instead of forgetting stuff, I brought stuff with me. Specifically the key to the Contour, the car I was using to get to interviews. I discovered the key in my coat pocket. So I called and informed Mummy, and then she asked me where the spare key was. I said, "This is the spare key." "Then where's MY key, that I gave you on Saturday?"
Oops. That would be the bottom of my purse.
Thank God, there was ONE key I left behind, which ironically was the one that was actually mine, and on my key chain. So if it snows before I can get home, they can at least move the car...
Is it just me, or do I seem to be the sort who, if she ever got plastered (like that would happen), would wake up with a traffic sign she'd never seen before, and no pants?
--------------------------
In other news... Basiorana needs to stop procrastinating. Like, NOW. Time for homework.
Monday, December 4, 2006
Snow Dance Time
So I've been informed that the airport is NOT a place to go canoodle, since the cops drive by a lot. I was then informed that it IS, by two sources, which outnumbers the one that said it wasn't. This, while interesting, is actually somewhat irrelevant, since The Brother is not nearly as dumb as I was implying in last night's post. Sorry to anyone who took me seriously. I forget that some things don't translate as well into print as they should.
I don't know The Brother's girlfriend really well, though I do know her and we hung out and talked before school when I took the bus in. I know that she seemed quiet and reserved, at least around me, but nice. She used to complain about The Brother sitting behind her on the band bus and drumming/kicking her seat/sticking stuff in her hair/tapping her on the shoulder and pretending to have done nothing, then giggling when she turned back around. This is why I was somewhat surprised to learn they were dating.
I didn't mean to paint a negative image of this girl; like I said, she's a nice kid. Good people. If I did, I'm sorry. I was making fun of my brother, not her. Even if I don't know for sure what she would do in a parked car, I do know that my brother is reserved enough to not do anything, and from what I know of her, she would be the same way. They strike me as weird enough to sit out in a car and look at planes for fun.
Even though neither she nor my brother will likely ever read this, I figured when I saw a comment posted by "anonymous," the world's most prolific writer, which seemed to indicate that I was taken a bit more seriously than I had intended, that I should clear that up, lest I spread false ideas.
-----------------------------
Okay, retraction over... I think I will recover from the crushing disappointment of Theoi.com closing down. I have a startling amount recorded on my computer, and though I don't list sources, it should be enough to know the characters at least. The rest will take a little extra research, but the Perseus Project at Tufts has information on the myths themselves, and I might actually open a book at some point. Or maybe not. That's a big step for me.
-----------------------------
My Chemistry teacher is proof that some teachers actually do hate certain students. Question Girl, the girl who asks the world's stupidest questions, rather than pay attention today, was reading a text for another class- AGAIN. When the professor noticed this, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed- silently- stamping his foot and swearing profusely. She didn't notice. Then she fell asleep. This did not improve his negative mood. We were all giggling...
-----------------------------
It snowed today, but nothing stuck. That was mildly disappointing. And it won't snow again until Wednesday of next week, when the snow shall be mixed with rain, freezing rain, and sleet. Oh, joy. But luckily MY dining hall, the one that's a five second walk away, is open...
They think it'll snow and sleet again on the 15th, sleet on the 17th, rain on the 18th to get rid of the remaining snow, then that rain will freeze on surfaces. Wow. Incredible.
I WANT SNOW! I'd snow dance, but poor Chione (goddess of snow) would put out her eyes at the sight....
-----------------------------
Study time.
Added later: Just got the following email:
Hi Zenny,
I've put the site back online. Some people have suggested it might have been hacked, and malicious content added or diverts to dubious websites which prompted the google ban. If you browse through it and come across anything unusual please let me know.
Thanks for the really nice email. Nice to know the site's appreciated!
Cheers,
Aaron
Theoi.com
This makes me SO HAPPY YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE IT. I am happy-dancing in my mind.
I don't know The Brother's girlfriend really well, though I do know her and we hung out and talked before school when I took the bus in. I know that she seemed quiet and reserved, at least around me, but nice. She used to complain about The Brother sitting behind her on the band bus and drumming/kicking her seat/sticking stuff in her hair/tapping her on the shoulder and pretending to have done nothing, then giggling when she turned back around. This is why I was somewhat surprised to learn they were dating.
I didn't mean to paint a negative image of this girl; like I said, she's a nice kid. Good people. If I did, I'm sorry. I was making fun of my brother, not her. Even if I don't know for sure what she would do in a parked car, I do know that my brother is reserved enough to not do anything, and from what I know of her, she would be the same way. They strike me as weird enough to sit out in a car and look at planes for fun.
Even though neither she nor my brother will likely ever read this, I figured when I saw a comment posted by "anonymous," the world's most prolific writer, which seemed to indicate that I was taken a bit more seriously than I had intended, that I should clear that up, lest I spread false ideas.
-----------------------------
Okay, retraction over... I think I will recover from the crushing disappointment of Theoi.com closing down. I have a startling amount recorded on my computer, and though I don't list sources, it should be enough to know the characters at least. The rest will take a little extra research, but the Perseus Project at Tufts has information on the myths themselves, and I might actually open a book at some point. Or maybe not. That's a big step for me.
-----------------------------
My Chemistry teacher is proof that some teachers actually do hate certain students. Question Girl, the girl who asks the world's stupidest questions, rather than pay attention today, was reading a text for another class- AGAIN. When the professor noticed this, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed- silently- stamping his foot and swearing profusely. She didn't notice. Then she fell asleep. This did not improve his negative mood. We were all giggling...
-----------------------------
It snowed today, but nothing stuck. That was mildly disappointing. And it won't snow again until Wednesday of next week, when the snow shall be mixed with rain, freezing rain, and sleet. Oh, joy. But luckily MY dining hall, the one that's a five second walk away, is open...
They think it'll snow and sleet again on the 15th, sleet on the 17th, rain on the 18th to get rid of the remaining snow, then that rain will freeze on surfaces. Wow. Incredible.
I WANT SNOW! I'd snow dance, but poor Chione (goddess of snow) would put out her eyes at the sight....
-----------------------------
Study time.
Added later: Just got the following email:
Hi Zenny,
I've put the site back online. Some people have suggested it might have been hacked, and malicious content added or diverts to dubious websites which prompted the google ban. If you browse through it and come across anything unusual please let me know.
Thanks for the really nice email. Nice to know the site's appreciated!
Cheers,
Aaron
Theoi.com
This makes me SO HAPPY YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE IT. I am happy-dancing in my mind.
Grr...
Well, this is what the guy who ran Theoi.com had to say:
Hello,
Yes I have closed down the site because of the problem with Google. It was banned from the search engine two days after I received this email from a Prof. George Maroulis in Greece:
> Dear Sir
> Your Greek Mythology webpage
> is heavily contaminated with material
> of an extremely unpleasant nature.
> You should try to cleanse it
> Sincerely
> George Maroulis
It appears that Maroulis is the chair of a Greek government committee on cultural affairs, and I am assuming this email and the subsequent Google ban is somehow connected with the recent Greek government's campaign against cultural sites which saw the forced closure of a number of websites within Greece itself in November. Although it surprises me that they would also try to target websites outside of Greece.
Anyway, Theoi.com is just a hobby site. Since its no longer enjoyable to run, I'm calling it quits.
Thanks for your interest.
Best Regards,
Aaron Atsma
Theoi.com
I wonder what the unpleasant material was. Something that reminds people that the ancient Greeks practiced pederasty and considered certain kinds of rape acceptable? Something that reminds people that the Greeks weren't always either Orthodox Christians or virtuous pagans who founded democracy?
This is why I hate government. Honestly, revisionist history sucks. Who cares if your ancestors believed their chief god had a male lover? You don't even believe in that god anymore! No one thinks you do! Get over yourselves!
This reminds me of how the Greek government tried to control that movie, Alexander, because it contained homosexual overtures. ALEXANDER THE GREAT WAS PROBABLY A PEDERAST, JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. Honestly. Our first president and war hero was impotent and kept slaves. But that's okay, because impotence wasn't his fault and the slaves were customary in that day. So if George Washington kept slaves, which is MUCH worse, Alexander could have had a boyfriend.
I love the Ancient Greeks, but I'm beginning to wish more of them had favored self-castration.
Hello,
Yes I have closed down the site because of the problem with Google. It was banned from the search engine two days after I received this email from a Prof. George Maroulis in Greece:
> Dear Sir
> Your Greek Mythology webpage
> is heavily contaminated with material
> of an extremely unpleasant nature.
> You should try to cleanse it
> Sincerely
> George Maroulis
It appears that Maroulis is the chair of a Greek government committee on cultural affairs, and I am assuming this email and the subsequent Google ban is somehow connected with the recent Greek government's campaign against cultural sites which saw the forced closure of a number of websites within Greece itself in November. Although it surprises me that they would also try to target websites outside of Greece.
Anyway, Theoi.com is just a hobby site. Since its no longer enjoyable to run, I'm calling it quits.
Thanks for your interest.
Best Regards,
Aaron Atsma
Theoi.com
I wonder what the unpleasant material was. Something that reminds people that the ancient Greeks practiced pederasty and considered certain kinds of rape acceptable? Something that reminds people that the Greeks weren't always either Orthodox Christians or virtuous pagans who founded democracy?
This is why I hate government. Honestly, revisionist history sucks. Who cares if your ancestors believed their chief god had a male lover? You don't even believe in that god anymore! No one thinks you do! Get over yourselves!
This reminds me of how the Greek government tried to control that movie, Alexander, because it contained homosexual overtures. ALEXANDER THE GREAT WAS PROBABLY A PEDERAST, JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. Honestly. Our first president and war hero was impotent and kept slaves. But that's okay, because impotence wasn't his fault and the slaves were customary in that day. So if George Washington kept slaves, which is MUCH worse, Alexander could have had a boyfriend.
I love the Ancient Greeks, but I'm beginning to wish more of them had favored self-castration.
Sunday, December 3, 2006
Update
Okay.
Here’s what I wrote on a Google discussion board about the Theoi website:
The most comprehensive online guide I have ever found to Greco-Roman mythology was the Theoi Project at theoi.com. Recently (within the past couple days) the website has disappeared and the following notice is up
instead: "Theoi.com has been banned by Google and forced to close down as a result."
This site was incredible; it had an ENORMOUS amount of information and I used it as a resource all the time. I can't imagine why it was a problem, and I really want to know why the site was banned in the first
place. I know there are criteria Google uses to ban sites that are offensive or misleading, but I was wondering why this site in particular would have been banned; it was not offensive in any way and merely provided information in an encyclopedic manner.
Please resolve this question for me... That website provided valuable information that I can't find anywhere else online, at least not in such a concise and straightforward manner. At least let me know why the site has been removed.
Thank you.
The first answer was as follows:
Most of the material still available at Wayback Machine.
At some point the author of the site introduced AdSense advertisements (as many people do). Google is quite brutal in its administration of these programs. The possibility Google banned the site for infringing Google’s AdSense rules does not apply to MSN and Yahoo. You might write to the author and ask. aatsma@yahoo.com.au
The archive works- but intermittently, and it doesn’t have all the more recent stuff. Plus, I’m scared that the archive will dump the info after a certain period. Still, really helpful.
Next answer:
> Please resolve this question for me...
Its up to the site owner to resolve.
It very dumb to take a site down like the owner has. If Google banned them, then they had a good reason to ban it.
Well, first of all, I wasn’t intending on having someone THERE fix it…just wanted them to answer the question… second, considering that 70% of internet traffic goes though Google, I can kinda understand the guy removing the site… he primarily relied on donations.
But anyway. I wrote a note to the guy who ran the site. It went as follows:
I found your email address off the archives of your website and I wanted to ask you: what happened to Theoi.com? You had such a wonderful site, I used it as a resource all the time. I understand that Google banned it, but I'm wondering why you decided to remove the website completely. Were you just not getting enough visitors after the ban?
I'm also wondering if you're planning on recreating the site, or something similar to it. It was a terrific resource, the most understandable and easily navigated site I've ever seen on mythology. I'd hate to see it disappear forever, especially after all the work that must have gone into creating and maintaining it.
I figured that was sufficiently suck-upish (yet true, I really loved that site) to warrant an answer.
Now to wait.
--------------------------
One last thing: The Brother and his girlfriend went to watch airplanes land at the airport… while sitting in a parked car… in the dark…
The Brother informed Mummy of this by phone before he left- the watching planes part, not the rest, which can be inferred. This sparked an utterly disturbing conversation, because Mummy turned to Daddy and said, “I think you need to give him The Talk again.”
Daddy: “Again? I gave it to him when he was six and I think I scarred him for life. Then I gave it to him again when he was older because I think he blocked it out- still grossed out. I think that was because I explained it in terms of tab A and slot B.”
Mummy: “Well, don’t explain it that way. I think he knows that much. Just point out the ‘ruin your life if you ruin some girl’ aspects.”
Daddy: “He knows that.”
Mummy: “I think he needs a reminder.”
Daddy: “Okay, fine. But I’m broaching the subject when you’re in the house. I’ll say, ‘Your mother wanted me to give you The Talk again,’ and all you’ll hear is ‘MUUUUUMMMMMMMMYY!!!!!!!!!’”
Poor kid. Takes a girl to watch the planes, and gets The Talk from his dad. Again. Or alternatively he’s actually necking out there, which would make the entire conversation more embarrassing for him… if that’s possible…
By the way, inquiring mothers (and too-naive-for-their-liking sisters) wish to know: Is the airport a customary go-to-make-out spot in our town? Like a Lover’s Leap?
Here’s what I wrote on a Google discussion board about the Theoi website:
The most comprehensive online guide I have ever found to Greco-Roman mythology was the Theoi Project at theoi.com. Recently (within the past couple days) the website has disappeared and the following notice is up
instead: "Theoi.com has been banned by Google and forced to close down as a result."
This site was incredible; it had an ENORMOUS amount of information and I used it as a resource all the time. I can't imagine why it was a problem, and I really want to know why the site was banned in the first
place. I know there are criteria Google uses to ban sites that are offensive or misleading, but I was wondering why this site in particular would have been banned; it was not offensive in any way and merely provided information in an encyclopedic manner.
Please resolve this question for me... That website provided valuable information that I can't find anywhere else online, at least not in such a concise and straightforward manner. At least let me know why the site has been removed.
Thank you.
The first answer was as follows:
Most of the material still available at Wayback Machine.
At some point the author of the site introduced AdSense advertisements (as many people do). Google is quite brutal in its administration of these programs. The possibility Google banned the site for infringing Google’s AdSense rules does not apply to MSN and Yahoo. You might write to the author and ask. aatsma@yahoo.com.au
The archive works- but intermittently, and it doesn’t have all the more recent stuff. Plus, I’m scared that the archive will dump the info after a certain period. Still, really helpful.
Next answer:
> Please resolve this question for me...
Its up to the site owner to resolve.
It very dumb to take a site down like the owner has. If Google banned them, then they had a good reason to ban it.
Well, first of all, I wasn’t intending on having someone THERE fix it…just wanted them to answer the question… second, considering that 70% of internet traffic goes though Google, I can kinda understand the guy removing the site… he primarily relied on donations.
But anyway. I wrote a note to the guy who ran the site. It went as follows:
I found your email address off the archives of your website and I wanted to ask you: what happened to Theoi.com? You had such a wonderful site, I used it as a resource all the time. I understand that Google banned it, but I'm wondering why you decided to remove the website completely. Were you just not getting enough visitors after the ban?
I'm also wondering if you're planning on recreating the site, or something similar to it. It was a terrific resource, the most understandable and easily navigated site I've ever seen on mythology. I'd hate to see it disappear forever, especially after all the work that must have gone into creating and maintaining it.
I figured that was sufficiently suck-upish (yet true, I really loved that site) to warrant an answer.
Now to wait.
--------------------------
One last thing: The Brother and his girlfriend went to watch airplanes land at the airport… while sitting in a parked car… in the dark…
The Brother informed Mummy of this by phone before he left- the watching planes part, not the rest, which can be inferred. This sparked an utterly disturbing conversation, because Mummy turned to Daddy and said, “I think you need to give him The Talk again.”
Daddy: “Again? I gave it to him when he was six and I think I scarred him for life. Then I gave it to him again when he was older because I think he blocked it out- still grossed out. I think that was because I explained it in terms of tab A and slot B.”
Mummy: “Well, don’t explain it that way. I think he knows that much. Just point out the ‘ruin your life if you ruin some girl’ aspects.”
Daddy: “He knows that.”
Mummy: “I think he needs a reminder.”
Daddy: “Okay, fine. But I’m broaching the subject when you’re in the house. I’ll say, ‘Your mother wanted me to give you The Talk again,’ and all you’ll hear is ‘MUUUUUMMMMMMMMYY!!!!!!!!!’”
Poor kid. Takes a girl to watch the planes, and gets The Talk from his dad. Again. Or alternatively he’s actually necking out there, which would make the entire conversation more embarrassing for him… if that’s possible…
By the way, inquiring mothers (and too-naive-for-their-liking sisters) wish to know: Is the airport a customary go-to-make-out spot in our town? Like a Lover’s Leap?
Wasted Existence
ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!!!!!!!!
The world's greatest website for a guide to Greek and Roman mythology, the Theoi Project, was banned by Google. I don't know why. All I know is now the site is gone and I have no way to do research and the past SIX MONTHS of writing that book are gone to waste thanks to stupid Google. I can't continue the book unless I can do research!
And to make matters worse, there goes all my references for my myth paper!
I'm really trying not to cry over a lost web page. But... six months. Six months. Over 50 pages, single-spaced, in Word. All useless, since I can't finish my research. There was no other site that had that information presented the way I needed it to be. So I really think I'm going to cry now.
I was having a good day today, even. A GOOD day. And now I can't concentrate on anything because all I can think about is the fact that I wasted so much time, and if I ever want to get anything done now I need to go out and find translations of over 100 Greek and Latin texts, read them, and hopefully pick out the occasional important fact from each. And I have a test tomorrow that I can NOT study for.
I hate my life.
The world's greatest website for a guide to Greek and Roman mythology, the Theoi Project, was banned by Google. I don't know why. All I know is now the site is gone and I have no way to do research and the past SIX MONTHS of writing that book are gone to waste thanks to stupid Google. I can't continue the book unless I can do research!
And to make matters worse, there goes all my references for my myth paper!
I'm really trying not to cry over a lost web page. But... six months. Six months. Over 50 pages, single-spaced, in Word. All useless, since I can't finish my research. There was no other site that had that information presented the way I needed it to be. So I really think I'm going to cry now.
I was having a good day today, even. A GOOD day. And now I can't concentrate on anything because all I can think about is the fact that I wasted so much time, and if I ever want to get anything done now I need to go out and find translations of over 100 Greek and Latin texts, read them, and hopefully pick out the occasional important fact from each. And I have a test tomorrow that I can NOT study for.
I hate my life.
Saturday, December 2, 2006
Chinese moratorium begins! No Chinese food until Dec. 24th!
I'm currently at home... again. I feel so weird coming back two weekends in a row, especially right after Thanksgiving... But I have a job! And it's at Vector... which is totally unexpected...
OKay, here's the thing. Vector isn't really door-to-door sales. What they do is they have these knives, by a company called Cutco, that are really, really cool and very high quality, but cost less than the top quality knives. But they don't advertise the knives on TV or in magazines, and they don't put them in stores. Instead, they operate completely by word of mouth. See, a customer hears about the knives from someone who's already bought them. If he expresses an interest, Vector sends out a representative- that's me- to their house at a pre-arranged appointment time. The representative has a display set, they show off the product and demonstrate how cool they are- kitchen shears that can cut through a penny, pretty sweet- and then, if the customer is interested, they buy something. If not, the representative still gets paid $16.50 just for making an effort. Either way, the representative asks the customer if he or she knows of anyone else who might be interested in the knives, and if they can think of a few, the representative asks if they wouldn't mind letting those people know about the product, and that they can expect a call from Vector. Then the representative waits a few days, to let the customer make some calls or something, and calls up the referrals, and asks if they'd like to have a representative come out for an appointment. Usually you get a few people interested enough at least for you to come out.
But unlike regular door-to-door sales, the people are expecting you- it's by appointment only. So you're not going to be interrupting them in the middle of something, and they won't sic their dogs on you. Hopefully. And some other pluses include the fact that I'l get paid even if I sell absolutely nothing. I'll also get paid if I make appointments with family members- they expect you to do that for the first couple appointments. The only rules are that you can't make an appointment to someone under 25- so like, friends and stuff don't count, which is a bummer because I think Shrewd might want to buy something- you can't make and appointment with someone who you know isn't employed, because why would they be buying knives, and you have to go one-on-one with the customer.
Plus, they offer pay incentives if I sell over certain amounts, so if I wind up being any good at this salesman gig, I can make quite a bit of extra money. However, that doesn't mean I'm supposed to pressure people into buying stuff. Actually, that's the fastest way to get fired- a customer reporting that you were pushy. We're just supposed to be friendly, personable, and knowledgable, and let the products sell themselves.
The base rate is really good, considering that the average appointment is a half hour to forty-five minutes. I figure I'll try to schedule 5 or 6 appointments a day, which would be the same as working at a minimum wage job for 13 hours a day; or a 48-hour workweek for $12 an hour.
And don't worry. They train you. For three days. Some of which is actually teaching you about the product, but most of which is teaching you how to make a good impression on people.
And honestly, I think that the training will be a much greater advantage to me than the money...
THe only major flaw is that the job starts the day AFTER Christmas. Apparently people buy knives after they cooked over the holidays and realized that theirs sucked. I kinda wish I could start earlier, but the training begins Dec. 26. I dunno. Maybe I could get a job at another store, one that doesn't need post-holiday help, until Christmas.
-----------------------------
The other interveiws went okay. Macy's was looking for help more immediately, but asked me to call on the 13th to see if they still needed assistance. I don't think they want help after the holidays, though. It might work. TJ Maxx is calling me back later this week- but they're doing lots of post-Christmas work, so that's probably a no-go.
-----------------------------
So I came home, all excited because I had the job at Vector and all. And what do Daddy and Mummy do but start telling me all these horror stories about sales experience and pyramid companies and frauding poor college students out of training fees and buying the product, and Daddy starts talking about how I need to go with someone or I'll be attacked, and that confidence wave I was riding kinda flopped. But I spent the next couple hours getting valuable experience as a salesperson by trying to sell the idea of this job to my folks. Meanwhile they're making me all nervous about having finally taken the initiative to go outside my comfort zone and do a job that will teach me a great deal and give me something very, very good to pad my resume with.
So I promised Daddy I'll carry mace in my purse and I explained to Mummy that all I pay is a security deposit of $135 on the knives that I can get back at any time if I return the knives. Or I can keep the whole $517 set for the cost of the security deposit, if I want. There's no training fees or anything. Absolute worst comes to worst, I don't make any money over break and I leave with some sales skills and something else to stick on my future job applications.
Unfortunately, Mummy and Daddy basically destroyed any self-confidence I gained from beating out like seven other applicants who were at the interview with me as the best candidate for the job. Now, I'm petrified. Gee. Thanks, guys. Way to be supportive and encouraging...
OKay, here's the thing. Vector isn't really door-to-door sales. What they do is they have these knives, by a company called Cutco, that are really, really cool and very high quality, but cost less than the top quality knives. But they don't advertise the knives on TV or in magazines, and they don't put them in stores. Instead, they operate completely by word of mouth. See, a customer hears about the knives from someone who's already bought them. If he expresses an interest, Vector sends out a representative- that's me- to their house at a pre-arranged appointment time. The representative has a display set, they show off the product and demonstrate how cool they are- kitchen shears that can cut through a penny, pretty sweet- and then, if the customer is interested, they buy something. If not, the representative still gets paid $16.50 just for making an effort. Either way, the representative asks the customer if he or she knows of anyone else who might be interested in the knives, and if they can think of a few, the representative asks if they wouldn't mind letting those people know about the product, and that they can expect a call from Vector. Then the representative waits a few days, to let the customer make some calls or something, and calls up the referrals, and asks if they'd like to have a representative come out for an appointment. Usually you get a few people interested enough at least for you to come out.
But unlike regular door-to-door sales, the people are expecting you- it's by appointment only. So you're not going to be interrupting them in the middle of something, and they won't sic their dogs on you. Hopefully. And some other pluses include the fact that I'l get paid even if I sell absolutely nothing. I'll also get paid if I make appointments with family members- they expect you to do that for the first couple appointments. The only rules are that you can't make an appointment to someone under 25- so like, friends and stuff don't count, which is a bummer because I think Shrewd might want to buy something- you can't make and appointment with someone who you know isn't employed, because why would they be buying knives, and you have to go one-on-one with the customer.
Plus, they offer pay incentives if I sell over certain amounts, so if I wind up being any good at this salesman gig, I can make quite a bit of extra money. However, that doesn't mean I'm supposed to pressure people into buying stuff. Actually, that's the fastest way to get fired- a customer reporting that you were pushy. We're just supposed to be friendly, personable, and knowledgable, and let the products sell themselves.
The base rate is really good, considering that the average appointment is a half hour to forty-five minutes. I figure I'll try to schedule 5 or 6 appointments a day, which would be the same as working at a minimum wage job for 13 hours a day; or a 48-hour workweek for $12 an hour.
And don't worry. They train you. For three days. Some of which is actually teaching you about the product, but most of which is teaching you how to make a good impression on people.
And honestly, I think that the training will be a much greater advantage to me than the money...
THe only major flaw is that the job starts the day AFTER Christmas. Apparently people buy knives after they cooked over the holidays and realized that theirs sucked. I kinda wish I could start earlier, but the training begins Dec. 26. I dunno. Maybe I could get a job at another store, one that doesn't need post-holiday help, until Christmas.
-----------------------------
The other interveiws went okay. Macy's was looking for help more immediately, but asked me to call on the 13th to see if they still needed assistance. I don't think they want help after the holidays, though. It might work. TJ Maxx is calling me back later this week- but they're doing lots of post-Christmas work, so that's probably a no-go.
-----------------------------
So I came home, all excited because I had the job at Vector and all. And what do Daddy and Mummy do but start telling me all these horror stories about sales experience and pyramid companies and frauding poor college students out of training fees and buying the product, and Daddy starts talking about how I need to go with someone or I'll be attacked, and that confidence wave I was riding kinda flopped. But I spent the next couple hours getting valuable experience as a salesperson by trying to sell the idea of this job to my folks. Meanwhile they're making me all nervous about having finally taken the initiative to go outside my comfort zone and do a job that will teach me a great deal and give me something very, very good to pad my resume with.
So I promised Daddy I'll carry mace in my purse and I explained to Mummy that all I pay is a security deposit of $135 on the knives that I can get back at any time if I return the knives. Or I can keep the whole $517 set for the cost of the security deposit, if I want. There's no training fees or anything. Absolute worst comes to worst, I don't make any money over break and I leave with some sales skills and something else to stick on my future job applications.
Unfortunately, Mummy and Daddy basically destroyed any self-confidence I gained from beating out like seven other applicants who were at the interview with me as the best candidate for the job. Now, I'm petrified. Gee. Thanks, guys. Way to be supportive and encouraging...
Friday, December 1, 2006
"You will develop a strange fascination with steamed vegetables."*
Today's the feast day of Neptune/Poseidon and Salacia/Amphitrite or of Venus/Aphrodite and Cupid/Eros. I assume you know the latter pair, but Amphitrite was the wife of Poseidon and a Nereid- a sea-nymph that looked like our idea of a mermaid. She didn't want to marry Poseidon so when she heard that he wanted to marry her, she swam off to the edge of the world and hid from him. Poseidon sent out all the sea creatures to hunt her down, and the one that found her was Delphin, a dolphin. Delphin convinced Amphitrite to come back and marry Poseidon, and she became queen of the sea. Delphin was immortalized and his image was hung in the sky as a constellation.
Amphitrite is interesting because unlike Hera, and despite the fact that this was the reason she didn't want to marry him in the first place, she really could care less if her husband slept around. And he did. A lot.
---------------------------------
Loquatia is NOT moving out. Tacita is, most likely. See, the current roommate of the girl Loquatia was going to room with decided she didn't want to leave Hubbard after all, and the girl decided it wasn't fair to kick out her roommate, so she apologized profusely to Loquatia, but told her that they weren't going to be able to room together after all.
Meanwhile, Tacita is meeting with Housing to try to get out of this dorm all together, and rejoin her friends over in Englehardt. I'm not sure why- it's not like it's that far away. I walk to Stoke on the weekends all the time, but as much as I love Mistake and Closer, I'm not gonna LIVE there. And only partially because Mistake and I get along best when we don't see each other every day. Also because I like this dorm. And it's easier to meet new friends if the old ones aren't hanging around. But, anyway. Tacita will most likely find a room in the dorm of her choice, and then Loquatia and I will room together next semester.
And yeah, I know that I said she irritates me sometimes, but honestly, I'd rather have a mildly irritating roommate that doesn't drink or smoke or stay up past midnight on school nights or watch TV all the time than try to deal with the Housing Lottery.
---------------------------------
Meanwhile, the Brother apparently does, in fact, know how to communicate. At least with his girlfriend. Because on Wednesday night, according to Mummy, he had a three-hour-long phone conversation with the girl. This amuses me greatly and mildly annoys our mother, as she can't get him to stick two words together in a crude facsimile of a sentence.
Mummy wants him to invite his girlfriend to her Prom, but he countered by mentioning that some of his senior buddies who can't get dates are having a LAN party that night (hey, could be worse, a friend of mine in high school had a "let's burn various chemicals in a massive bonfire" party on Prom night last year). Our mother spent a decent amount of time explaining a cardinal rule of dating, you don't go to a LAN party instead of Prom with your girlfriend, before she caught on that he was kidding.
Heh.
---------------------------------
My poem, my miserable poem... she is finally finished. All seventy lines in iambic-pentameter goodness. I posted it on my livejournal here, if you'd like to see the fruit of my labors. I also included the little pre-poem explanation I had to submit to the professor, since neither "Orpheus" nor "Eurydice" fits the meter and thus neither was included in the actual poem, so you'd probably not have the slightest clue what I was writing about.
But... done. And turned in. And no longer my problem. Niiiiiiiiice.
---------------------------------
Thanks to our floor winning the Floor Wars back in October, I was recently awarded a UNH Geeks T-shirt. The front says "UNH Geeks" with the Es as sigma signs (to promote geekiness), so it's pronounced "UNH Gssks." Yeah, we're so smart we don't NEED to understand what Greek letters we put on our clothing! The back says "Hubbard Hall- you're just jealous," which I'm sure you are.
I wore the T-shirt for the first time today. So, apparently, did a bunch of other kids. Hmm. This reminds me of high school when we all wore our French T-shirts on the same day (or the Physics t-shirts, but those had cheat codes on them and we wore them for exams). I feel like I was accidentally initiated into a secret gang or something, and soon Williamson ninjas will jump me on my way to class for wearing gang paraphernalia in public.
Among the other people who wore the T-shirt: Deandron, whom I haven't mentioned yet on this blog and I wanted an excuse to mention because I picked a name for him at last. He's the kid I know from high school, who lives down the hall and has all the hot roommates. And yes, "de andron" means "down the hall." I said I picked one, I didn't say it was amazingly creative. At least I didn't name him "Amicinlesebrosus," which, besides being a mouthful, means "attractive friends." He gets a real name because we're friends, I don't just talk about him behind his back like I do for most guys.
---------------------------------
I recently took the most inaccurate personality test EVER. Sooooo bad. Let's see... According to it, I value pride and money over career or love, and love is the least important thing to me. I want to date someone who is proud, I think sex "smells good, but tastes nasty" and my life is "salty," I'm in love with my mom and Candida is my "twin soul." Then it told me my life would improve if I sent the link to 42 people. Riiiiight. I think I need to talk to my grandmother about what constitutes a "good forward."
---------------------------------
It was ridiculously warm this morning, so I wandered around in a T-shirt. This was annoying enough- it's December, for Pete's sake. But then, naturally, during Latin class, it started to rain- no, pour. Like buckets. So I sprinted across campus in the pouring, FREEZING rain, in just a T-shirt. That was the day's excitement, I decided. Nothing else after that.
Consequently, I haven't left my hall since. Mummy's picking me up in two hours, and I felt like I should clean before I left, so my roommates didn't have to deal with my mess if I wasn't there causing it...
---------------------------------
One last thing before I finish. Today is World AIDS Day. So if you're religious, say a little prayer or something for all the people afflicted with that horrible disease that kills so many people worldwide every year. I know in my head that we can't be completely free of incurable disease, or we'd have worse overpopulation than we do now, but I wish, sometimes, that the diseases didn't have to be so miserable... or that fewer of the victims had to be children.
---------------------------------
*Don't worry, that wasn't in a cookie, that's my humorscope of the day. Il m'amuse.
Amphitrite is interesting because unlike Hera, and despite the fact that this was the reason she didn't want to marry him in the first place, she really could care less if her husband slept around. And he did. A lot.
---------------------------------
Loquatia is NOT moving out. Tacita is, most likely. See, the current roommate of the girl Loquatia was going to room with decided she didn't want to leave Hubbard after all, and the girl decided it wasn't fair to kick out her roommate, so she apologized profusely to Loquatia, but told her that they weren't going to be able to room together after all.
Meanwhile, Tacita is meeting with Housing to try to get out of this dorm all together, and rejoin her friends over in Englehardt. I'm not sure why- it's not like it's that far away. I walk to Stoke on the weekends all the time, but as much as I love Mistake and Closer, I'm not gonna LIVE there. And only partially because Mistake and I get along best when we don't see each other every day. Also because I like this dorm. And it's easier to meet new friends if the old ones aren't hanging around. But, anyway. Tacita will most likely find a room in the dorm of her choice, and then Loquatia and I will room together next semester.
And yeah, I know that I said she irritates me sometimes, but honestly, I'd rather have a mildly irritating roommate that doesn't drink or smoke or stay up past midnight on school nights or watch TV all the time than try to deal with the Housing Lottery.
---------------------------------
Meanwhile, the Brother apparently does, in fact, know how to communicate. At least with his girlfriend. Because on Wednesday night, according to Mummy, he had a three-hour-long phone conversation with the girl. This amuses me greatly and mildly annoys our mother, as she can't get him to stick two words together in a crude facsimile of a sentence.
Mummy wants him to invite his girlfriend to her Prom, but he countered by mentioning that some of his senior buddies who can't get dates are having a LAN party that night (hey, could be worse, a friend of mine in high school had a "let's burn various chemicals in a massive bonfire" party on Prom night last year). Our mother spent a decent amount of time explaining a cardinal rule of dating, you don't go to a LAN party instead of Prom with your girlfriend, before she caught on that he was kidding.
Heh.
---------------------------------
My poem, my miserable poem... she is finally finished. All seventy lines in iambic-pentameter goodness. I posted it on my livejournal here, if you'd like to see the fruit of my labors. I also included the little pre-poem explanation I had to submit to the professor, since neither "Orpheus" nor "Eurydice" fits the meter and thus neither was included in the actual poem, so you'd probably not have the slightest clue what I was writing about.
But... done. And turned in. And no longer my problem. Niiiiiiiiice.
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Thanks to our floor winning the Floor Wars back in October, I was recently awarded a UNH Geeks T-shirt. The front says "UNH Geeks" with the Es as sigma signs (to promote geekiness), so it's pronounced "UNH Gssks." Yeah, we're so smart we don't NEED to understand what Greek letters we put on our clothing! The back says "Hubbard Hall- you're just jealous," which I'm sure you are.
I wore the T-shirt for the first time today. So, apparently, did a bunch of other kids. Hmm. This reminds me of high school when we all wore our French T-shirts on the same day (or the Physics t-shirts, but those had cheat codes on them and we wore them for exams). I feel like I was accidentally initiated into a secret gang or something, and soon Williamson ninjas will jump me on my way to class for wearing gang paraphernalia in public.
Among the other people who wore the T-shirt: Deandron, whom I haven't mentioned yet on this blog and I wanted an excuse to mention because I picked a name for him at last. He's the kid I know from high school, who lives down the hall and has all the hot roommates. And yes, "de andron" means "down the hall." I said I picked one, I didn't say it was amazingly creative. At least I didn't name him "Amicinlesebrosus," which, besides being a mouthful, means "attractive friends." He gets a real name because we're friends, I don't just talk about him behind his back like I do for most guys.
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I recently took the most inaccurate personality test EVER. Sooooo bad. Let's see... According to it, I value pride and money over career or love, and love is the least important thing to me. I want to date someone who is proud, I think sex "smells good, but tastes nasty" and my life is "salty," I'm in love with my mom and Candida is my "twin soul." Then it told me my life would improve if I sent the link to 42 people. Riiiiight. I think I need to talk to my grandmother about what constitutes a "good forward."
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It was ridiculously warm this morning, so I wandered around in a T-shirt. This was annoying enough- it's December, for Pete's sake. But then, naturally, during Latin class, it started to rain- no, pour. Like buckets. So I sprinted across campus in the pouring, FREEZING rain, in just a T-shirt. That was the day's excitement, I decided. Nothing else after that.
Consequently, I haven't left my hall since. Mummy's picking me up in two hours, and I felt like I should clean before I left, so my roommates didn't have to deal with my mess if I wasn't there causing it...
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One last thing before I finish. Today is World AIDS Day. So if you're religious, say a little prayer or something for all the people afflicted with that horrible disease that kills so many people worldwide every year. I know in my head that we can't be completely free of incurable disease, or we'd have worse overpopulation than we do now, but I wish, sometimes, that the diseases didn't have to be so miserable... or that fewer of the victims had to be children.
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*Don't worry, that wasn't in a cookie, that's my humorscope of the day. Il m'amuse.
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