Torrents suck.

I am a TV show addict. I am only even updating this because I have about 6 minutes left until my next episode of Heroes finishes downloading. I seriously cannot watch an even mildly good show without getting totally hooked on it. First Queer as Folk, then Lost, then Desperate Housewives, and now House and Heroes. I watched all three seasons of House in two weeks. I will have watched the entire first season of heroes in less than two days. I have to stop, but I have more lined up! I still need to see Weeds, The Riches, Scrubs... not to mention all the anime I need to catch up on. No, it's not want, it's a need. I cannot handle the idea of not knowing what happens next. It's like a great book- once I get started there is nothing stopping me until I'm done. I think I need help.

In lighter news, I have finally decided what I'm going to do with college. I am going to defer from Western for one year. I am going to do the programming... program at Central, then transfer somewhere. Maybe Western, Maybe the U, maybe even Seattle U. I know I still want to do psychology (lately I've been considering legal psychology), but I need at least one more year in Seattle and I want to do this programming stuff too.

Shit. My episode torrent slowed down to a crawl. I dunno how much longer I can wait...

This quarter has been... off to a rocky start. I'm behind already, but catching up. Taking an intro to programming class, environmental science online, and statistics. I think my statistics class has me do more stuff on the computer than my programming class, it's kind of ridiculous.

Hooray, the speed is back up!

I see Rylan and Paul tomorrow. It's certainly been awhile- far too long. They are a big part of why I want to stay, I really need to reconnect. I've only got one more year I can be sure we'll all be in the same place, and I'll be damned if I'm going to waste it like I've wasted the past few.

and now it's down. Maybe I should just go to bed...

Reading more and playing videogames less would probably be good for me. God of War and Golden Sun are just so... fun, it's hard. This post has probably meandered enough now.

Bad night for it

So, as I was on my walk (albiet slightly later than normal, I left at 3:20ish instead of 1:20ish), I decide that I'll walk through the Village. I've never been there at night and figure it'll be a fun change of pace. I'm on... 32nd, I think, on the other side of Magnolia field, and I see this weird light. I try to stay behind things as I get closer to it, because it's stupidly bright and hurts my eyes and because I'm already a little nervous at never having walked this part of Magnolia at night. I get in range to see that it is, in fact, a car, take a few steps towards it (now revealed to it, as I'm no longer behind things), and notice it starting to slowly move towards me. I may have imagined it, as it didn't follow me when I immediately turned around and took a right up the hill, but I am certain it did. I was technically walking up the hill away from my house, but I figure I can take a left at the end of the block, walk back the direction I was walking towards the light from a couple of blocks, and then make a B-line for the way up to my house. I calm down, turn up my music, and get the living SHIT scared out of me when, as I am walking back the way I came, a car at the end of the block from me surges into life with a roar and high-beams blazing. I don't scream or jump, but I literally spin around midstep and start walking back down the hill toward the street at the end of which was the first car that had freaked me out. My cell phone is immediately in my hand and I'm calling home for a ride (at 3:45am, whee). I mill about for a bit, ready to dive into some bushes as soon as I hear a car coming (keeping my dad on the line so that at least he'll know where I died and what the person drove), get picked up, and thank and apologize my way home.

I of course realized (yes, even at the time) that it was almost certainly some stupid teenagers getting baked in a car (I know way too many Magnolians who do that not to think of that immediately), but I just had this creepy gut feeling that something was not right and that I needed to get far, far away. The moral of this story is: don't walk where you're less familiar at night. Also, I'm a wuss.

Jesus

that was freaky. So, I was on my walk, listening to music and feeling pretty cocky. I was right at the intersection next to thriftway, when I saw a car coming, so I hurried to cross the street so I wouldn't have to wait for it. After a few steps, I realized the car had stopped moving at the intersection, then, as I kept walking and watching it out of the corner of my eye, I saw it turn and start to slowly drive towards me. It was kind of crappy looking with cardboard over the windows in the back. There was plenty of room for a body. I was basically scared shitless, and started dialing 911 on my phone in my pocket, but kept walking hoping they weren't actually driving towards me. The car pulled up next to me and stopped, and I started to walk a little faster. I felt like an idiot- what was I doing out walking at three in the goddamn morning? I couldn't run home, it was up a giant hill. I hit send on my phone as I watched a giant man get out of a truck and start to walk towards me. My phone was raised almost to my ear when he, 5 or so steps away from me, said "Freeway? You tell me how to get to freeway?"

Good grief.

As we go on...

I just watched this video of a mediocre pop song from the turn of the century. I've always been a sucker for a catchy chorus, and this song is no exception- it was one of those songs that I secretly loved to listen to back in fifth grade (the ones that were too gay to tell anyone I liked). But there has always been something in this song that really... resonated with me (or at least, more than say "hit me baby one more time" or "Happy boys and happy girls we'll be"). Something about that bittersweet "almost-happy tears" feeling felt so overpoweringly right, I never really questioned it.

Listening to it now, though, has made me realize a few things that are kind of embarrassing to admit were uncovered by a Vitamin C song. It's been well established that I am a terribly nostalgic person. I think it was because I spent so long at Pacific Crest and loved it so much that my first major change in life was overwhelmingly sudden and painful. I never learned how to deal with change, so I've never been able to cope well with it. I don't accept it and move on, I wrap myself in it like freshly laundered sheet. The extent of my nostalgia is sort of frightening. I think about plays I've done and want more than anything to go back and do them again. I remember fun things that happened in classes and regret everything I didn't do to preserve those moments. I curse myself again and again for habitually blocking out bad memories, because I know I have lost parts of my life forever. Which touches on the point of this- the inspiration for all this consideration- I have realized what makes me so nostalgic: I don't think about the past in terms of the experiences I have had, I think of the experiences that I will never get to experience again. I think of the past as something that's been lost, not something that I've lived.

I have told myself many times over the past year and 3 months how much I hate highschool. I have told a lot of people, in fact. I hated my grade, I hated a lot of my curriculum, I hated the social climate of highschool, I hated the standardization and teacher-turned-babysitters. In many ways, all of that is true. But there is something about the school experience, something about the drama, something about being with your friends (and people who are not so much your friends) so often for so long that is kind of magical. The shared hatred of bad teachers, the blessed reprieve of field trips, the bonding, the unbonding, the fights and the making-up, the ridiculous relationships, the embarrassing presentations, the easy As, the near-failures, those rare moments where you talk yourself up (or down) a grade- so much of it can be sort of amazing. Not Christmas-morning amazing, or 16th birthday amazing, but that kind of special amazing that isn't necessarily good. The sweet at the end of the bitter (bittersweet. Get it? Isn't that a clever play on words?). My first two years of highschool were full of that. I have more memories of that than I will ever have of running start, or anything besides probably The Bathhouse. I think in many ways I stole two years of that from myself. I got nervous about a few things and ducked out early. Oh, I've certainly learned far more at Central than I would have at Center. I've taken some amazing courses, and really gone a long ways towards figuring out what I want to do with my life. But seeing people at school today- giving Ellie and Chloe and Kayla big hugs, talking to Travis for the first time in far too long, even pounding Keynan (who I still regret never really bonding with), I realize the things I've missed out on. The things that, I am realizing, I sort of stole from myself. I didn't see people, I hardly kept in contact where I did at all, I left behind interests, I reverted to my old bad study habits... I went into a sort of stasis in regard to everything before seattle central. I didn't break anything off, I just pretended it didn't exist. And all of the Nostalgia of this is just starting to hit me. I am getting senioritus, and I have yet to turn in a college application. If I could go back, I would still make the choice to do running start. I think it was the right thing for my to do for my education and for my betterment as a human being. But I have just realized how fair of a trade it really is. I think it's time to reconnect.

Stupid song.

Christ.

I probably shouldn't post while distraught at 4:00am. I think I'll leave this here as a reminder.

Things and stuff

So, my abnormal psych teacher graded our test a different way than I thought he was going to. So instead of something in the 50%s as I was expecting (technially I would have gotten about a 59%), I got an 83%. Woo!

Ansalm (that maybe be spelled wrong, but I don't really care), my part in The Miser, is starting to become interesting. I'm really glad I got a smaller part, I missed backstage time greatly during MacBeth.

I may not even be able to apply for thriftway now, because when BXPE starts I may not be able to work at all. But we'll see.

I'm on track for my AA! Yay! But I can't transfer to the Homeschool Resource Center! Boo! I'm hoping Nova will accept me. If not... I guess there's always Ballard...

You should all check out this video (just click whichever side you want on the page). It's very... enlightening.

I still play too much World of Warcraft.

Goodnight.

Rantings and Recap

Shopping is surprisingly tolerable, when the company is good. Abbey has very sexy new boots. Kaya a very pretty dress, and Gabe a replacement Lip Smackers (for the one I destroyed).

Desperate Housewives continues to be amazing. I have now watched 16 episodes, and I cannot wait to see more.

Plans falling through sucks.

Katt and I went on an adventure on friday. We walked over to discovery park, and had a fairly mundane but pleasant stroll until at the lookout we decided to go down to the beach. But we didn't use just any route- no, we were feeling rebellious and wild and needed to go over the side of the sand dunes. There's a nice steep, sandy, winding little path/slide down it. It's where all the drunk teenagers go. At the bottom, there is a tiny little trail that winds through the dense woodland, and eventually down to the beach. When the tide is out. When the tide is in, the main trail ends abruptly with nowhere to go. The tide was, of course, in. So, we wandered back along a side path, and found this amazing little open space in the brush filled with tiny rivulets and logs bridging them. It was one of those amazing places that reverts you back to your 7 year old self, making you want to build forts and climb trees and dig lakes in the miniscule streams or create intricate damming systems just to watch the water flow in different ways. After getting in touch with our inner children, Katt and I decided to follow along (in) the stream, just to see where it could take us. As luck would have it, before long we found a short drop off (with some roots to aid climbing) right down to fair-sized hill of sand and then the beach. I had the fortune to try the route down with sand too lightly packed to support a human being at the bottom, and ended up sliding down the entire hill to the beach in a dusty mess. The tide was in too far to get all the way back to the path up from the beach along the beach, so we also got the pleasure of wading through a cesspool of thick, nasty, sludgy seaweed. It felt like walking through a lake of feces. We made friends with some folks who had taken more or less the same route as us, and headed home. We saw a couple carrying a massive machete, covered in what could have been blood, but was probably blackberry juice (given the number of blackberries they were carrying).

I got a ton of sand in my cell phone and camera while going down the dune, messing up the sound on first and more or less ruining the second. The lens is jammed and can't close, and it won't start up right. Luckily, my parents got the complete super no questions asked year and a half warranty, so I can take it in and get it fixed for free. Just, no pictures for a little while.

Katie came over after Katt left, and Jayke joined us for awhile. Much Desperate Housewives was watched, and it was still a lot of fun despite having already seen all but the last episode of it with Kaya and Gabe. We also went stargazing, which was as awesome as always. I stayed up until like 9:30, when I crawled up to bed and slept until 2:00, when my slightly annoyed brother brought me my cell phone, which had been called a total of thirteen times by Gabe and Kaya (and my home phone had been called another 3. In retrospect, I don't know why my brother didn't answer it). I think they were mad at me for sleeping that late, which is silly because I sleep in until 2:00 all the time, when I can. Granted, I would have slept in until 4:00 or 5:00 had I not been woken, but even so. My sleeping patterns are my own. I guess I can understand why they wanted to get ahold of me so badly, since the sleepover that we had planned could no longer be done and our only choice was to hang out during the day, but we couldn't hang out during the day anyway since I had no ride until later and Kaya didn't want to drive anywhere and Gabe couldn't even get a ride to her house anyway. I was in position to follow along with the original plan (Gabe had suggested going over to his house at like 7:00ish), and be perfectly rested for it and ready for an overnight, and that's all that matters. I felt bad that I couldn't accommodate the changes, but neither could they.

Huh, I hadn't realized that was bothering me that much.

I've resubscribed to World of Warcrack. I'm sick of all my other games, and want something to do when I'm not otherwise busy.

I just paused from writing this to read several theories on how the world could end any day now. I think it's time for bed.

Why am I not in bed?

Hoo boy. I don't even know where to begin. I have way too many things to talk about.

First, MacBeth. Holy jesus MacBeth. This is the most wonderfully terrifying play I've ever done. It's almost as difficult and scary as The Crucible, but fun and amazing to boot. It's probably not the closest-knit cast I've ever been in, but I love everyone at the Bathhouse so much that it doesn't matter. The play completely destroys me, and it's wonderful. Come see it next weekend. Friday at 7:00, Saturday at 2:00 and 7:00. At the Bathhouse, of course.

I hate being attracted to people. I really, really hate it. almost as much as I love it.

My photo taking slowed a bit, but only because I forgot to take my camera with me friday and yesterday. I am torn between wanting to share all of my photos with everyone and wanting to respect the privacy of the people they are mostly of. But oh well.

I've gone from a power metal binge to an awful pop music binge. Hooray for Britney Spears.


Now for the quazi-cryptic poorly phrased emo ranty crap part.

I feel like I'm drifting away from my non-theater friends. Maybe (hopefully!) that will change when I start seeing them every day at school again... but only a few are coming to running start with me. I dunno. I'm trying to keep in touch and find time to do non-theater things, but theater has been so all-consuming this summer... I just don't know. I feel awkward and awful. I'm in such a completely different place in my life than I was a year ago in every sense of the word... I don't know how to handle things anymore. My little comfort zone has blown away like a scarf in a tornado, and as wonderful as it is to be free to do whatever, it's frightening trying to deal with things sometimes.

Sometimes I feel like it's my job to give emotional support to people, and that if I try to take it I'm violating some unspoken contract. Or scared vow. Or being annoying.

Blah. Blah!

(Bi)Sexuality.

While browsing the internets, I stumbled upon an interesting post about bisexuality and the attitudes of non-bisexuals about it. It inspired me to comtenplate my own feelings on it. If that doesn't sound very interesting to you, you probably shouldn't read on, because this will be long.

I am going to ignore the side that believes that heterosexual is the only way you can be (and that homosexuality is a choice and a sin blah blah blah), because no one who believes that should have the address to this blog.

I first encountered anti-bisexual material while watching Queer As Folk. There was a storyline where one of the characters had an experience with the opposite sex, and everyone was shocked. I believe one of the lines in response to it was (pardon the vulgarity): “You can like cock, or you can like pussy, you just can't like both at the same time.” There was not one person who accepted it as a simple sign of bisexuality. I found this a little shocking. How can a show that has been billed as getting at queer issues and pushing for equality be so dismissing towards a huge part of the gay community? But as I poked around, I found more and more anti-bisexual sentiments among both gay and straight people, even those who call themselves open-minded. How can anyone be open-minded and look at sexuality as black and white?

There are a lot of arguments for bisexuality not existing. One of my favorites is, “gay men like men, so if a guy likes men he's gay.” This is a classic example of bad logic. If A then B. B, therefore A. That is not correct. That is wrong. Wrong! It is like saying “Fishermen live in Seattle, so if a person lives in Seattle he or she is a fisherman.” Just because a man is sexually attracted to a man does not exclude him from being sexually attracted to a woman. Just because someone who has been sexually attracted to women has never liked a man does NOT mean that: b.) that they can never be sexually attracted to men (maybe it just hasn't happened yet) OR b) that no one else who has been sexually attracted to women can be sexually attracted to men. No one can say what another person likes, we can only speak for ourselves. I don't tell people they can't like tuna fish just because I don't, because I don't have their taste buds, and cannot prove they don't like it. If we isolate genes for sexual attractions to the different genders, then we can tell someone what they should and shouldn't like. Until then, we're just being narrow-minded and ridiculous.

But that's just purely sexual attraction. There are lots of other things that attract people to people: personality, power, even things like possessions (cars, yachts, private islands, etc.). I call myself gay because up until this point I have only been sexually attracted to males. I won't deny the possibility in my future that maybe I'll meet some amazing woman who I decide I want to spend my life with based purely on her amazing personality (or even sexual attraction, although the chances of that seem slim at this point). I think the same could probably happen to anyone (but if they would be able to accept it based off of their own ideas on sexuality is another story).

And that's my two cents.

Today's Pie Divided By the Editors

The Part You Should Care About

For the six of you who still haven't seen this

My second play of the summer, The Front Page, has started. You will see it, unless you don't live in Washington. I play the corrupt mayor.

I want to hang out with you. I do. But I'm apparently constantly busy. So, call me on my cell and make plans with me. Because I love you.

My To-Do List:

• Shave
• Plan D&D
• Learn to drive.
  
• Get a job
• Memorize lines
• get a boyfriend

ANYONE WHO WANTS TO PLAY D&D WITH ME, SEND ME A BLANK EMAIL AT THE FOLLOWING ADDRESS:


(I don't like spam bots)

The way I talk on AIM and MSN is how I would speak to you in real life. I stretch out words I'd stretch out, I make pauses I would make, and a use periods when I would use a period. Don't question it. Love it.

The Part You Probably Shouldn't Care About

I've been thinking way too much lately. At the risk of sounding extremely emo, this is all probably going to sound extremely emo.

I'm not sure if I have a personality. I've spent so much time changing my personality to mesh better with different people that I don't know if I remember where I started from. Even when I disagree with someone I'm with, is that because of my opinion or the opinion of someone whose opinion I'd rather reflect? Do I get along with people because of who I am or because of all the people I pretend to be?

I am too busy seeing people to see the people I need to see. I do not like how this seems to be working. I'm turning into that guy who you have to stay in contact with in order to ever do things with, because he's so busy he forgets about everything that isn't right in front of him.

What makes a friend a friend? What makes a friend more or less than a friend? Why must we use such ambiguities? As much as I love them, people suck.

I want to see the world, and I know I never will. But that might be okay, because I might just want to see the world because I think I'm supposed to.

The above applies to all of my less realistic hopes and dreams.

I am starting to think I think too much to ever be happy.

I need a button that stops time.

Roosevelt: 2 Me: 1

So, I get to Roosevelt all jittery, Charlotte calls me saying she's getting out, we agree to meet at the doors. I get to the doors... no Charlotte. I meander around for 7 minutes trying still look like a purposeful techie instead of a nervous teenager and ignoring all the looks people are shooting at me (and answering their questions like I actually knew what I was talking about), get nervous, can't walk through the doors, and leave. Because with anxiety disorder, that's just how things go. Good look Rooseveltites. Charlotte, I hope you enjoyed the show.

At least the Arcadia rehearsal was fun.

Update: Since some people (okay, one person) were (was) confused about anxiety disorder, I will explain it. It's like anxiety, only always, for almost everything. Generally only low to moderate levels of anxeity (easy to pretend on the surface like they aren't there), but still anxiety. Like, sometimes I get overly anxious while waiting for the bus. I fidget, pace, twiddle my thumbs, people-watch, constantly check to see if my bus is coming, make sure my transfer or bus pass is there every 2 minutes, and wait for it to go away. However, with certain things, generally things that I've had a bad experence with before, the anxiety goes from what would be mild or moderate anxiety to an average person to intense, crippling levels of anxiety. For example, I get really nervous whenever I have to call someone. Anyone. Even my best friends. I also get nervous when I have to talk to new people. Combine these... well, it took me two and a half hours to work up the courage to call Shana my first time I wanted an audition. and don't even get me started on leaving messages...

My point is, I worry about everything. Telling me not to worry is like telling a schizophrenic to stop hallucinating. That's why it has that handy "disorder" part tacked on. So, when I tried to 'sneak' into the show tonight (the last time I tried that I got yelled at and kicked out), I simply could not walk through the door. So I left.

Jenny Chow, the Play a Part Auction, and other things you don't really care about.

First off, I have a special message to all of you who use AOL instant messenger. This was actually spoken to Anneka (obviously), but really I think many of you could take it to heart:
Cliched AIM Name: Why don't you have a buddy info? What is the point of compulsively checking everyone's buddy info if they don't even bother to have one? YOU ARE DESTROYING MY SYSTEM, ANNEKA.

Jenny Chow is AMAZING. Flying robots. OCD adopted Chinese girl. Dr. Yakunin. The greatest soundtrack to any play ever. You should all comes see it. Thursday, Friday, Saturday at 7:30, Sunday at 2:00. If you wanna see it for free, I can get you work as an usher.

WORKING on Jenny Chow, however, is not amazing. Here is the list jobs I was called in at the last minute to perform:

• Light Techie
  

Here is the list of jobs I actually perform

• Light Techie
• Usher
• Janitor
• Everyone's bitch

The Bathhouse theater is truly a magical place. Where else can one person be so many?
It doesn't help that the booth is roughly 110ºC on a good day. It's like a little private preview of hell.

The world may suck even worse than we think in the nearish future.

The auction was shockingly fun. Shana sang, I directed people with a flashlight to avoid the winch, I heard the same jokes from the adult workers a thousand times, I got to talk with Austin/Charlotte/Kaya/Kayla/Zoe (and to a lesser extent Miranda, Miranda's mom, Fiona and Blake), and we made $1,100 for Arcadia. But the coolest part, for me, was getting my palm read. Here is what I was told to the best of my memory:

1. I am a very dynamic person. I rarely leave anything I interact with unchanged
2. Not only am I very open minded, but I have no problem changing myself to fit new ideas/concepts/morals whatever that are impressed upon me. The downside of this is that I have difficulty figuring out what I really believe and who I really am.
3. I am a leader and have a very strong desire to lead and make decisions.
4. I am very passionate about what I do and very emotional, and tend to make important decisions based off of my emotions and passions. This is bad if you have a temper (oh dear).
5. I want to take a more active leadership role in my world (be that planet, country, school, city, whatever), but am feeling stunted so instead I am taking a more active role in my social life.
6. I will have 4 major relationships in my life. Two of them will be fairly serious, and the one that lasts me the rest of my life won't come until about 40. However, this will be alright because
7. I'm going to get lots of action. Hell yes.

1 is fairly true, 2 through 5 are VERY true, and 7 had better be. I was kind of amazed (okay, REALLY amazed) at how accurate it was while still being pretty darn specific.

Now, before I go on, I just want to say this. As much as organized (and even less-than-organized) religions and I don't get along, I have always had a weird... "fondness" for superstition. I blame fantasy books. So, while I'm certainly not going to freak out over stepping under a ladder, convert to Wicca (not again, at least [don't ask]), or start reading people's auras, I have a healthy respect for things like palm reading, tarot cards, and psychics. Do I believe in them? A part of me does, I think. Or wishes I do. But, belief or no, I at least think this. Even if you think things like palm readers and psychics are all utter bullcrap designed for the sake of taking advantage of the gullible, you cannot argue that they make people stop, even if for just a minute, and think about themselves through all the facades and pretenses. They force people to examine who they really are and why they really do things. And that, I think is something humanity can never get enough of. So, skoff at me if you want for getting so excited over a palm reading, but if I hear any of you making fun of introspection-inducing superstitions I'll bash your skull in with a golf club.

This is the envelope from the "happy-opening" card given to me by Kimber, the amazingly awesome start of Jenny Chow:


This is my nametag from the auction:


Why do we care? Look closely.

Got it?

That's right. My name is spelled correctly on both of them. These are persons four and five to get it right on their first try. Within 4 days of each other.

Spooky.

This has gone on long enough. I will leave you with two futurama quotes.

Leela: "In my dream, Fry said he hid a gift from me in his locker. If it's true, then he must still exist in some form."
Farnsworth: "Of course he still exists. As a frozen corpse in outer space! Oh...I made myself sad."


Leela: "Is this some sort of brain scanner?"
Farnsworth: "Some sort, yes. In France it's called a guillotine."
Leela: "Professor! Can't you examine my brain without removing it?"
Farnsworth: "Yes, easily."

This and/or That.

Events
There was a nice woman on my bus today. She had a big thick gray coat with pink interior, dirty blonde hair tied back into a ponytale, a big scarf, glasses and a hat. We shared a spontaneous smile when our eyes met during our respective peoplewatching. I was just thinking about how rarely people smile on the bus when she started screaming at the driver about not wanting to get her fucking organs taken when the government kills her. She said other things too, but I couldn't hear them from my seat at the back of the bus. She put too much emphasis on her Ss and Ts, it sounded sort of like a snake being strangled to death.

My aunt's birthday last friday was sort of a lesson in awkwardness. My parents were busy, and my cousin I would normally have talked to wasn't there. I miss the years when I could get away with playing my gameboy on the sofa the whole time. I compensated by pretending to have to call people on my cell phone. Does that make me a bad person?

Rylan's party was a breath of fresh air. Seeing people you haven't been able to see in months free of drama is pretty hard to beat. The same goes for letting your libido run free with two good friends in an endless cycle of flirtation. and groping. Honk honk. ...I'm not a pervert. It's an inside joke. Really.

Rambles
I have too many things I want to do. I keep overbooking myself. I should work on a better calendar system. Maybe I'll just start posting my schedule here. That'd help my e-stalkers too (hi Tom). I'm starting to worry about school. I really haven't tried very hard this quarter at all. I've been putting off homework until past 2:00am, and my organizational system is a folder, scribbled notes, and hope. If I keep this up, I'm going to slip somewhere and my grades will tank. The problem is (as Anneka made me realize), I can't work unless I'm scared of the consequences. Each quarter that I've made it through this year has made me a little cockier, and now I'm really feeling the backlash of that. That isn't even going into my online class, which I really want to drop. REALLY want to drop. I just... can't take it. The lack of interaction... it's too much. Or, really, too little. I could make up the credit, but I don't know what it would do to my hopes of taking Japanese again. I might just have to study super hard to relearn what I've forgotten from 101 and start up with 102. Or, take it over the summer as a non-credit course, or something. Hmm, I like the sound of that one. Now to convince my parents to let me drop it...

It is time to start doing things more and talking about doing things less. If you are reading this, I probably want to hang out with you. Call me.

I have found two amazing bands. DragonForce and Asian Kung-Fu Generation. The former is insanely over the top speed metal that sounds like a videogame soundtrack, the latter is just awesome Japanese music. I've uploaded a DragonForce CD for 10 of you, because I'm awesome. It'll go away in 6 days. If you play your cards right, I'll upload some Asian Kung-Fu Generation for you later.

All the cool people are going to see Arcadia June 23rd, 24th, or 25th. Don't you want to be like them? Good. I'll give you show times when I'm sure of them.

Your lips are taste of wine.

English and stuff.

So, I've been meaning to update this again for awhile, but things have been coming up. The moral of this bastard child of an anecdote and an excuse is, don't expect regular updates.

I feel the need to devote an extra special post to English 102 (RANT WARNING). I have never taken a class before that has been quite so utterly lacking in challenge. Every day I ask myself why I bothered to show up.

In English 102, we have three assignments, all of which are the same thing. Not to say we have to repeat the same thing three times, oh god no. That would be a LOT more work. No, all three of our assignments are actually the same. We have a 3 page informal research paper, a 2 page formal research paper, and an 11 page formal research paper. Not only is it okday for them to be on the same topic, it's encouraged.

We do have tests, but don't worry, they don't force you to work any more than the few hours your paper takes. There are six of them, two for each concept. However, we only take our highest score for each concept, and we go over exactly how to do the quizzes before we take them and then retake them. These are essay quizzes, multiple choice quizzes, or even true or false quizzes. No, these are things like "summarize this paragraph." Not "summarize these paragraphs", no, that would be too easy. Just one.

I guess I'm not being fair. We do have other small assignments, that sometimes even require us to write a full, complete sentence on a piece of paper that we turn in. Shockingly difficult, I know.


In wildly different news, Charlotte apparently dreamed of me as a "sociopathic murderer." I am both honored and disturbed.

I think it is time for quasi-spontaneous excitement. Let's take the train down to Portland and visit some of the neat gardens. And go to Powell's. And the Art museum.
Or maybe just go to Uwajimaya and then watch a movie.

Finally, pants.