Friday, February 25, 2005
Sweetness, Thy Name is Procrastination
So my teacher had the flu and that was fortunate for me cause I hadn't started that paper that was due today, but then I totally squandered last night. That was kind of to be expected though, I maintain that most normal people would have done the same in that situation. Of course, I have another paper due tomorrow. So what did I do when I got home an hour and a half early today? Hmm, well there was some dicking around online, and then I promptly went to sleep for two hours. Granted I did have to wake up at 9:15 this morning (meetings can lick my ass), so even in that case I still don't really blame myself--what was I really gonna get done in my sleep-deprived state? After I woke up I did the thing where I started the new word document (biiig step for me) and saved it even though I hadn't written anything except my name and the date. I figured that was enough progress to entitle me to go check out Yahoo Personals with Gus and Garrett (cause Garrett needs a lady we've decided). That was a good hour and half of amusement. I only saw two people I know though, although one was greAt. (Click on the title of this post if you haven't already. And then note what he's looking for in a woman) It was definitely worth it. We then realized it was 8:30 and ran the hell downstairs to catch the BET reality show, cause it rocks, but they were running some stupid Gospel special instead. boo. I could of procrastinated so much harder. As it was we went out to get food and watched some South Park. All in all, it was worth being up til like 5:00 tonight. Decidedly.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Ordering Up Some Tit at Sushi Thai, Seein Some In Corsets At The Pirate Party
Pictures from Friday night--took me a while, I know...
If You Vote For Me, It'll Be Summer All Year Long
I'm literally craving summer. How can that be, you ask? I'm not entirely sure, but it's been happening a lot. First I started craving corn on the cob. I realize this is not exactly the same as craving summer, but as I never eat corn on the cob except in summer, the two are inexorably tied in my mind. Then I started to have flashbacks to past summers--not anything important I did, just like riding my bike around my neighborhood and shit. And finally--this is weirdest of all--I've begun, for brief moments, to forget that it's winter. As in I'll look out the window and see the beautiful blue sky with puffy white clouds we had today and think to myself how much summer rocks...and then be like, wait... It sucks. I want it to be 95 degrees, constantly sunny, and oppressively humid. Right now. And no school. Cause school blowwwws. A lot of people I know seem to be under the impression that i somehow like school--this could not be further from the truth. Yes I am considering going to graduate school, and yes, that seems dumb. I agree. Today, however, I got an e-mail from one of my professors informing me that she has the flu and will be unable to attend class tomorrow, HENCE our papers are extended until Tuesday. I sang a song of joy. No exaggeration. I was driven to such a point of ecstasy that it could only be released via song at the misfortune of my poor professor. Of course, a lot of that had to do with the fact that moments before reading this e-mail I had been on the point of freak out cause I hadn't even picked a topic for said paper. Yet I chose to check my e-mail instead..... and right now I'm writing a blog entry.
Monday, February 21, 2005
At Least I Wasn't in My Underwear
You know those nightmares that people are always supposedly having, where they're at school taking a really hard test and then suddenly realize they're in their underwear? Well, I was wearing clothes, but otherwise, my day was pretty much like that. I was up til 5 last night trying to finish this paper, and as a result ended up sleeping until 12:30. I was supposed to be at work at 12. I called her and I guess that's ok, I just got her voicemail cause apparently she was out sick today. But then I had two hours to finish my paper before my class at 2:30, plus shower and all that other stuff i have to do in the morning that inevitably takes me like an hour. So I was writing, and I was like, ok, I think I'm done. And I looked down at the clock. 2:21. Awesome. So I rush to send it to myself via e-mail and then run to Gus' computer cause my printer's hooked up to it. password: i type the one it used to be. No luck. He must have changed it. I'm so screwed. So I grab my shit, run downstairs and out to my car. It's of course covered in snow. So I clean it off as fast as I can, drive like I'm on PCP, and promptly park illegally. I run upstairs to the history department office (where I was supposed to be working since noon) and grab the key to the history lab where there's a computer and printer I can theoretically use. I open the door. There's a CITS guy lounging in the chair. He looks up at me languidly, as I cry in anguish, "is it broken??!!" "Yup. Since Friday." I run like hell back to the office, and commandeer the secretary's computer--she's out sick, remember--so it's not turned on. I then sit there for about 4 minutes while it boots up, the whole time jumping up and down saying "comeoncomeoncomeon" as if that will somehow help. Finally it's scanned all her pictures of babies wearing angel wings and is ready, so i open my email as frantically as it is possible to open email, open my document and slam the print button. Error message. Printer not installed. WHAT??? I KNOW she freakin prints stuff from that computer. No time to question, just have to think of a plan D. Professor Sohrabi conviently walks in right at that moment and I explain my situation to her in a string of about 12 words smashed into one (its like 2:37 by this point) She lets me use her computer, and I print out my paper. I then run to my class with it and open the door as apologetically as I can--only to see everyone sitting around on different parts of the floor with all these little scraps of paper.... oookay, i think. Then I remember. Our quiz. Where she gives us passages from the Aeneid and we put them in order. I hadn't been too worried about it, I had Evolving Canon experience and they wanted a lot more than order, and I was thinking it would just be 4 or 5 passages that were obvious--Dido falls in love with Aeneas BEFORE she kills herself because he leaves her, seems easy enough. But why did they have so many scraps of paper? She gives me my envelope. My bursting envelope. Cause there were 25 little paper squares crammed in there. I take an empty place on the floor, dump them out, and start trying to place them. Luckily, I remembered what they all referred to, that was a plus for my sanity. However, I was not really in a position to remember whether Venus plots against Dido before she has a bard sing for them, whether Aeneas mentions Dido's sculpture before she welcomes them, you get the point. There were WAY too many passages and they were way too random and obscure. I found out later that while I was having my battle of wills with different printers, people were even like, weren't there just gonna be a few main points just to make sure we got the gist of the story? And she did her little giggle thing that means she's actually being insanely evil, and was like, yahhh, but I just couldn't help myself. (the yah isn't a mispelling, that's the best way i can recreate her accent) I could also complain about how evil she was in all the format requirements she made us observe for our papers (7 different sections, all separately paginated, our name and number of the section in a footer on each page, specific order of the heading, had to be on the right side of the page, one inch margins, word count listed, each section stapled separately but all held with one clip) but I'll refrain (ha!).
I basically thought I was in a nightmare. Or some kind of experiment to see how far they can push me before I crack (you'll never take me alive!!)
I basically thought I was in a nightmare. Or some kind of experiment to see how far they can push me before I crack (you'll never take me alive!!)
Go Media Services!
This was in the Student Announcements today. I find it quite amusing:
"The individual who removed the transmitting mouse and its receiver from Gannett Auditorium this week might like to stop by Media Services to pick up the charger for its battery. The unit won't be much good without it.
Thanks so much, Hunt"
Go Media Services. And "Hunt" is a pretty cool name.
"The individual who removed the transmitting mouse and its receiver from Gannett Auditorium this week might like to stop by Media Services to pick up the charger for its battery. The unit won't be much good without it.
Thanks so much, Hunt"
Go Media Services. And "Hunt" is a pretty cool name.
Friday, February 18, 2005
Guess Someone Likes Me
A weird thing happened to me today. I was coming out to my car to drive to school, it was like 10:05, i was supposed to be there at 10:00. So one would imagine I'd be in a hurry. Nope. I just got in my car and sat there for a few moments. I wasn't doing anything, changing a cd, fixing makeup, i was just sitting. I mean, I was insanely tired and I sometimes just zone out in that case, but I came to and was like, that was weird, I need to go. And in my rearview I saw this car BLAST down the alley behind my house. Because of the way my driveway and house is set up, you really can't see if people are coming at all when you pull out, and there's never any cars driving on that alley--cause why would they--so i usually just back out without even trying to see since I accept it's a lost cause. So I can't be positive, but it seems like if I had just pulled out rather than zoning out for a little while I might've been slammed by that asshole. Isn't it weird how life works?
Thursday, February 17, 2005
partying like its 1999 sucks for me
So today was Kenny's 21st birthday, so I decided I'd spend the money to call him to congratulate him on the fabulous accomplishment. This was not as simple as it sounds. First, I bought a calling card, figured that was the cheapest way and wouldn't get me bitched at by my parents when they saw my cell phone bill. But since I don't pay for another line besides my cell phone, I tried to use the calling card on this. Well they allowed me to punch in about three hundred buttons before telling me the call could not be completed as dialed. Yeah. FINE. So I was like, screw the calling card. My cell phone then informed me that I wasn't allowed to call out of my range. Whatever the fuck that means. So on campus I went to the Honors Lounge; some douchebags were in there (didnt look like honors material, that's for sure). I went to the writing center. I actually could use their phone--i got to punch in my three hundred buttons again, only to be told I should check the number. At this point i had to go to class. So another few hours later, and now dangerously close to it not being his birthday anymore given the time difference, I finally just called the damn customer service people, who were of course Indians they've outsourced the service to, who speak "English." I finally understood that the 0 Kenny had told me to put in front of the number was only if i was calling from England. So damn it. I finally actually talked to him. I was surprised by this, cause it was like 11:00pm there, and I figured he'd be celebrating. Nope. He was in his room. By himself.
Now, it was nice to be able to talk to him for the thirty minutes or so the phone card deemed I was allowed, but still. This is seriously depressing to me. You only get one 21st birthday. I know the drinking age is 18 in London and he probably went to a bar the night before--but its the principle. Now for the rest of his life if anyone asks him what he did for his 21st birthday, he has to respond "nothing."
I know from experience how much this sucks. My ultimate regret? I spent New Years of 2000 (not Dec. 31st 2000, Dec. 31st 1999, the giant landmark night for centuries to come) sitting in my boyfriend's apartment that didn't have a CLOCK. forget tv. No clock. we had to assume when the new millenium had hit from the din that erupted around albany. SO lame. I'll never get that back, and its the kind of thing people will forever be asking me what I did. Like if you were taking a crap when Kennedy was shot. No one wants that.
All I can say is I'm spending my 21st with Kenny in London. And we'd best be doin something fuckin fun. Retarded drunk on the London Eye perhaps? How late's that shit open?
Now, it was nice to be able to talk to him for the thirty minutes or so the phone card deemed I was allowed, but still. This is seriously depressing to me. You only get one 21st birthday. I know the drinking age is 18 in London and he probably went to a bar the night before--but its the principle. Now for the rest of his life if anyone asks him what he did for his 21st birthday, he has to respond "nothing."
I know from experience how much this sucks. My ultimate regret? I spent New Years of 2000 (not Dec. 31st 2000, Dec. 31st 1999, the giant landmark night for centuries to come) sitting in my boyfriend's apartment that didn't have a CLOCK. forget tv. No clock. we had to assume when the new millenium had hit from the din that erupted around albany. SO lame. I'll never get that back, and its the kind of thing people will forever be asking me what I did. Like if you were taking a crap when Kennedy was shot. No one wants that.
All I can say is I'm spending my 21st with Kenny in London. And we'd best be doin something fuckin fun. Retarded drunk on the London Eye perhaps? How late's that shit open?
For Those Who Hate Aspartame
So coke finally figured out that people who hate aspartame might still like lime, and made regular coke with lime. I don't really understand why its taken them over a year to figure this out. What is with the whole soft drink trend of only introducing new flavors in diet form? The new dr. pepper that's diet cherry vanilla? Like whoa. Try unleashing those one at a time. What the heck would cherry vanilla dr. pepper taste like anyway?? Would it still be dr. pepper flavored? Cause you can make a dr. pepper flavored jelly bean, its enough of its own flavor. I'm not positive this doesn't exist, but I'm imagining you couldn't really make a coke flavored jelly bean, it's not really its own flavor. Add cherry syrup to it, add vanilla syrup to it, they've been doing that since the fifties. Adding both? Maaaybe. But cherry vanilla dr. pepper? And diet at that. I'd try it, but I'm in the category of those who hate aspartame, so I'm already guaranteed to hate it.
Sidenote: who else tried that Holiday Spice Pepsi? It sounded so nasty, but I had to try it. It was surprisingly ungross, but i don't know that i would've thought that if i hadn't been expecting it to be super gross.
(Happy Birthday Kenny!)
Sidenote: who else tried that Holiday Spice Pepsi? It sounded so nasty, but I had to try it. It was surprisingly ungross, but i don't know that i would've thought that if i hadn't been expecting it to be super gross.
(Happy Birthday Kenny!)
Monday, February 14, 2005
Party Like it's 1999
So yeah. The middle school dance party was sooooo middle school. We all agreed that we'd forgotten how much we hated middle school. Still, it was fun as hell. We arrived as "Come on Ride the Train (Ride it)" was playing. And were promptly informed that, had we arrived a minute earlier, we would have seen an actual train going around the dance floor. A train that would've consisted of the 10 or so people there. Oh yeah. There were crepe paper decorations (which I later licked when Charlie dared me to cause it supposedly tastes like ass. Verdict: definite ASS), there were chips, cookies, and root beer and grape soda. But that wasn't even what made it so middle school. It wasn't even the Coolio and Ace of Base. No. In fact, it was the couple who spent the entire night morosely holding on to each other, the boy slouching to an extent that I would not have believed possible as he clung to his girlfriend's waist and scanned around like a frightened doe doing her darnedest to protect her fawn from marauding wolves--I can only assume he was worried someone would try to snatch his female prize, rare indeed at a tech school, it is true. So Charlie, Amos, and I, feeling pretty secure in our places in at least the top five coolest people there (my sister and Zane can maybe be included) decided to go all out and get down. Once we were dancing the lameness factor was significantly diminished, and we had a pretty kickass time. Particularly when "I Saw the Sign" came on, and Amos and I grabbed the mic and karaoked the shit out of it. Gus and Kevin stayed in perfect middle school character by showing up super late (even later than the three of us), sitting on the couch completely refusing to dance or have any form of fun, probably making fun of all of us the whole time (which would not have been hard), and then proceeding to leave way early. Sweet guys. Oh yeah, I went with a rainbow brite t-shirt (actually a patty o'green shirt if we wanna be precise here) tight jeans which i later traded in for one of my sister's pleated plaid miniskirts (one, it was hot, two, it was hot) and some kick ass boots. All the Rpi kids (except my sister, who is tireless in her love of the fact that middle school dance music is really funny) got tired or bored or something like an hour and a half after we arrived and started draping themselves over the couches.* We represented Skidmore and its superior ability to have a good time for a while,* but then even we were lamed out. The last slow dance came around, my sister and Zane ran up there and made a hilarious picture as the only ones dancing, until our infamous couple joined them. Then I decided it was time to take things to the next level, so I grabbed the damn mic and sang along with Mariah Carey for a while. Well, to her choruses anyway; I can't be expected to know the lyrics to the verses of that shit. For that, it was determined that I won the spirit award. It did take some spirit to stand up there in front of utter apathy juxtaposed with my friends laughing and taking pictures.... But I am fearless in the face of having fun. As I would later demonstrate at Julia and Jill's party. So the "fuck everyone" party. I must say not only did I not fuck everyone, but I didn't fuck anyone. False advertising? You be the judge. As you may recall, my invitation read: "Fuck Everyone" Party Message: hey you could go to that sad emo party---or come to our party, wear some fancy underpants, and play silly games like spin the bottle and suck and blow. your choice. As I've said, there was no fucking. But not only was there no fucking, but there was not even any spin the bottle or suck and blow. There were "underpants" I guess.....but only by loose definition. As in girls were wearing slips over jeans and bras. And didn't want to take these slips off even after losing a round of strip spoons. Tsk Tsk. My fearlessness combined with my sucking at spoons ended in me being seriously cold whenever someone would go out to have a cigarette and leave the damn door open for like three minutes...* When I accepted I'd lost all I could afford to lose, Charlie and I accepted that we were hungry as hell and ordered pizza. And we ate it. And it was good.
*All this occurred in my sister's dorm basement that has a stage, a bar, and several couches. The presence of the couches is probably the best explanation why this was once the home of a homeless guy. I found this out because I told Ellen how Amos' friend Kerry's biggest fear is being killed by a homeless person squatting in her basement, and how we thought that was kinda a weird irrational fear until Meg pointed out that there were homeless people living in the basement of Moore last year, thus traumatizing Kerry forever, and Ellen responded: "There was a homeless guy living in our basement last year! My roommate dated him. And he used to play drums for my friend's band" And yes. I was as taken aback by this as you surely are. There's not really too much back story, however. The guy was 23, had actually gone to college, and just hit some dire straits apparently. He apparently now lives in Colonie... good for him gettin back on his feet. Wanna know his major? Music. Guess no one was exactly surprised...
* Charlie also represented Skidmore via a well-hung piece of stealth artwork ; )
*Sorry, no pictures of this. That I'm aware of....
*All this occurred in my sister's dorm basement that has a stage, a bar, and several couches. The presence of the couches is probably the best explanation why this was once the home of a homeless guy. I found this out because I told Ellen how Amos' friend Kerry's biggest fear is being killed by a homeless person squatting in her basement, and how we thought that was kinda a weird irrational fear until Meg pointed out that there were homeless people living in the basement of Moore last year, thus traumatizing Kerry forever, and Ellen responded: "There was a homeless guy living in our basement last year! My roommate dated him. And he used to play drums for my friend's band" And yes. I was as taken aback by this as you surely are. There's not really too much back story, however. The guy was 23, had actually gone to college, and just hit some dire straits apparently. He apparently now lives in Colonie... good for him gettin back on his feet. Wanna know his major? Music. Guess no one was exactly surprised...
* Charlie also represented Skidmore via a well-hung piece of stealth artwork ; )
*Sorry, no pictures of this. That I'm aware of....
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Friday, February 11, 2005
Laugh til you Puke
Anyway. Today was interesting enough. It began with me waking up half an hour before my 12:45 class, which would be kinda sad if i hadnt gone to bed at like 6. Then when that was over, it was time to start my paper that was due at five. It ended up being a page shorter than she asked for, but she's gonna have to deal. After that Charlie came over and we all drove to Troy to go the the goodwill to buy middle school dance party costumes. Charlie found a t-shirt that had planets and shit on it and said like space camp 1995 on it or something awesome, Kevin got this weird shirt with a cartoonish drawing on it and something about camping (sorry, i wasnt paying allll that much attention) Gus found a flannel jacket with a sweatshirthood, but decided he really didnt need to spend money on that, cheap as it was. i have to say i was inclined to agree, awesome as it was. After all, he still has a garbage bag full of manson and nine inch nails shirts, so might as well bust em out for some purpose. I founda shirt that said "swing dance club" on it, which would have been AMAZING, but it was huge on me. Then i found this corduroy mini dress thing, but it was 9.99 and i was like, this is funny, but it is soooo hideous, so its not worth 10 bucks. Instead i just bought my valentines--i thought they were 2.99, which sounded cheap, but upon closer inspection, definitely 2/99. Friggin awesome. The only downside is not having 30 friends to give them to and thus feeling unloved when i have a ton left over.
So afterwards we went to this diner in latham that--supposedly--we went to at one point in the past and Dan got hit on by the waiter. The place seemed vaguely familiar, but all diners are so similar, and i deFinitely would remember Dan getting hit on by a waiter. Anyway, we ordered a riDICulous amount of food. Mozzerella sticks, burgers, and then cream pies--except charlie was smart enough to abstain from pie. So the rest of us are sitting there, i pull a like whOle banana out of mine and just stare at it not knowing what to do, they tell me that that makes it healthy cause its fruit*.... No joke, these cream pies had crust, flavored filling, a layer of CAKE, and then a like three-foot tower of coagulated whipped cream. Who decided that cream pies werent filling or fattening enough and required cake? Basically, we sat there eating, getting more and more disgustingly full until we just wanted to die, but kept eating anyway. Kevin actually ate his entire piece, and he seemed like the most full before we even started. i left my cake and whipped topping and just ate my banana part with three giant pieces of banana in it. Arent you supposed to slice bananas before you put them in banana cream pie? I mean, slice them into little pieces, not take a banana and slice it in half, and then take another half to put in one slice of pie. So basically the point is that i said i wanted to take a picture of charlie with my cameraphone so i can have it come up when he calls, just cause my phone can do that so i might as well. And we kinda laughed cause it wasnt the ideal situation to be photographed, but as i said charlie was doin a LOt better cause he passed up pie. So i take his picture, and Gus is like, sure you dont wanna picture of me? And he took the cream from his plate (he'd actually asked for extra whipped cream by the way, which was way hilarious when it came and his plate had like the mass of saturn and the calories of a deep fried mars bar party) and smeared it all over his face. I'm still not sure how i managed to take the picture, but i somehow did. And then we all laughed til we came within millimeters of puking. And then charlie told us the story of a video he's seen of some kid who was being interviewed by a local newschannel, seemed fine, and then was suddenly like, i'm sorry, and puked all over the news desk. Awesome. And then later we turned on the TV and some news program was discussing whether Corey Feldman's testimony against Micheal Jackson will be admitted, and we were like WHAT!!!! but apparently hes not saying he was molested, which is really too bad. Speaking of molested, i'm looking forward to some tomorrow. i opened facebook for the first time in a while, and i had a message from jill saying:
"Fuck Everyone" Party
Message: hey you could go to that sad emo party---or come to our party, wear some fancy underpants, and play silly games like spin the bottle and suck and blow. your choice.
I'm not sure what she means by sad emo party...maybe she read my blog and is referring to the middle school dance party? But that is in no way sad. And not really emo, so i'm just confused by that part. But the part about spin the bottle and suck and blow? I am so excited. Charlie didnt know what suck and blow was, and seemed kinda horrified when i told him, so that should be absolutely fantastic. Hope no one gross goes if we're required to "fuck everyone"
*At my class today, we were talking about how the English dept. professors are gluttons, and how any baked good that appears in their dept office will only survive for twenty minutes max, and the professor was like, "the other day someone brought in macaroons, and I guess because they're somewhat nutritious they didnt go as fast" and we're all like ?? macaroons? nutritious? are you on crack? I mean, is coconut even a fruit? Or is it a nut? What the hell is a coconut? I know what its not though, and thats healthy. Especially when coagulated with a ton of sugar into macaroon form.
To check out Charlie's version of the night: http://charlie365.diaryland.com/050212_25.html
So afterwards we went to this diner in latham that--supposedly--we went to at one point in the past and Dan got hit on by the waiter. The place seemed vaguely familiar, but all diners are so similar, and i deFinitely would remember Dan getting hit on by a waiter. Anyway, we ordered a riDICulous amount of food. Mozzerella sticks, burgers, and then cream pies--except charlie was smart enough to abstain from pie. So the rest of us are sitting there, i pull a like whOle banana out of mine and just stare at it not knowing what to do, they tell me that that makes it healthy cause its fruit*.... No joke, these cream pies had crust, flavored filling, a layer of CAKE, and then a like three-foot tower of coagulated whipped cream. Who decided that cream pies werent filling or fattening enough and required cake? Basically, we sat there eating, getting more and more disgustingly full until we just wanted to die, but kept eating anyway. Kevin actually ate his entire piece, and he seemed like the most full before we even started. i left my cake and whipped topping and just ate my banana part with three giant pieces of banana in it. Arent you supposed to slice bananas before you put them in banana cream pie? I mean, slice them into little pieces, not take a banana and slice it in half, and then take another half to put in one slice of pie. So basically the point is that i said i wanted to take a picture of charlie with my cameraphone so i can have it come up when he calls, just cause my phone can do that so i might as well. And we kinda laughed cause it wasnt the ideal situation to be photographed, but as i said charlie was doin a LOt better cause he passed up pie. So i take his picture, and Gus is like, sure you dont wanna picture of me? And he took the cream from his plate (he'd actually asked for extra whipped cream by the way, which was way hilarious when it came and his plate had like the mass of saturn and the calories of a deep fried mars bar party) and smeared it all over his face. I'm still not sure how i managed to take the picture, but i somehow did. And then we all laughed til we came within millimeters of puking. And then charlie told us the story of a video he's seen of some kid who was being interviewed by a local newschannel, seemed fine, and then was suddenly like, i'm sorry, and puked all over the news desk. Awesome. And then later we turned on the TV and some news program was discussing whether Corey Feldman's testimony against Micheal Jackson will be admitted, and we were like WHAT!!!! but apparently hes not saying he was molested, which is really too bad. Speaking of molested, i'm looking forward to some tomorrow. i opened facebook for the first time in a while, and i had a message from jill saying:
"Fuck Everyone" Party
Message: hey you could go to that sad emo party---or come to our party, wear some fancy underpants, and play silly games like spin the bottle and suck and blow. your choice.
I'm not sure what she means by sad emo party...maybe she read my blog and is referring to the middle school dance party? But that is in no way sad. And not really emo, so i'm just confused by that part. But the part about spin the bottle and suck and blow? I am so excited. Charlie didnt know what suck and blow was, and seemed kinda horrified when i told him, so that should be absolutely fantastic. Hope no one gross goes if we're required to "fuck everyone"
*At my class today, we were talking about how the English dept. professors are gluttons, and how any baked good that appears in their dept office will only survive for twenty minutes max, and the professor was like, "the other day someone brought in macaroons, and I guess because they're somewhat nutritious they didnt go as fast" and we're all like ?? macaroons? nutritious? are you on crack? I mean, is coconut even a fruit? Or is it a nut? What the hell is a coconut? I know what its not though, and thats healthy. Especially when coagulated with a ton of sugar into macaroon form.
To check out Charlie's version of the night: http://charlie365.diaryland.com/050212_25.html
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
I am the dancing queen
I may be behind on finding hilarious things online, but people send them to me eventually. I just got this http://db.playego.com.br/orafiles/01122005120941567g.swf Now, this is gut-wrenchingly funny on its own, but now I'm gonna give you another mental picture that should increase your mirth. My desk is facing a window, so at night I can see my reflection pretty perfectly in this window when I'm at my computer. Now imagine me with this video playing on continuous loop, and me dancing along to it, able to simultaneously watch him gettin down on my screen and my reflection gettin down in the window. Now add to that the fact that this amused me for a good 20 minutes. I've got almost the whole routine down at this point, the only part that gives me any trouble is the eyebrow.
I'm so lame, but at least my lameness manifests itself in wonderfully hilarious ways.
On a note unrelated to my lameness, Kenny e-mailed me saying that he questioned whether Amos and I will both fit on the floor of his dorm room in London, and I was like, pssh, how small can his room be... Then I got the pictures. Words can't really adequately express this, so I will post one for your amusement. Yeah. Neither Amos nor I is a midget, so I kinda see where Kenny was coming from on this one.
I'm so lame, but at least my lameness manifests itself in wonderfully hilarious ways.
On a note unrelated to my lameness, Kenny e-mailed me saying that he questioned whether Amos and I will both fit on the floor of his dorm room in London, and I was like, pssh, how small can his room be... Then I got the pictures. Words can't really adequately express this, so I will post one for your amusement. Yeah. Neither Amos nor I is a midget, so I kinda see where Kenny was coming from on this one.
Monday, February 07, 2005
Dog Show Superbowl Party!
My day began when my cell phone made its weird "you have a voicemail" noise, as someone simultaneously honked outside. So the first few seconds of consciousness were definitely full of confusion; then, when I realized what the two noises were, I also realized it was 12:30, and since Charlie had said he would call me around 11:30, 12:00, I started to worry that it was him honking outside.... Luckily I was wrong. Still not sure why I never heard the phone initially ring, but maybe 6 hours of sleep was not enough for my brain to register sound yet--it needed a solid 6 and a half to wake up, and even then it was not prepared for the whole cognitive process thing. Either way, I now have a new cell phone, so my brain will have to get used to a whole new ring. Oh yeah....
So anyway, Charlie came and got me after I'd had sufficient showering and dressing time, we got Julia, and we headed to the dog show. Don't ask me why there was a dog show in Saratoga. The point is we went, and it was cool. For about an hour, then our college student attention spans kicked in and we realized that it was just dogs running around in circles a whole crapload of times. Watching the handlers was possibly the best part, as one had a cowboy hat, a mustache, and long curly hair (no word on whether it was a mullet, the hat didn't allow for sufficient judgment in this category, but I'm unwilling to rule out that possibility). The dogs were, of course, damn cute. There were too many cute ones to list them all, but there was a lot of "awwww"ing--at least on the part of Julia and me.
Then I went and got a new phone (yay!) and played with it for a few hours before going to a Superbowl party with the Putnam crowd. A group in which not a single person cares at all about football. Add Gus, Kevin, and me to the mix? You have got a partay. A partay at which people will constantly be asking: "Wait, who's playing again? Philadelphia? Are they the green guys?" Yeaaaah. When I know more about football than 60% of the people there, 75% of which are guys, that's a Superbowl pARty. When the refreshments consist of cheese and crackers, veggies, and spinach dip, all washed down with red wine, that's a Superbowl pARty. And when afterwards we decide to play poker, and I have to be a guy's coach cause he's only ever played once before...well I think you know what that is. Friggin Awesome.
So anyway, Charlie came and got me after I'd had sufficient showering and dressing time, we got Julia, and we headed to the dog show. Don't ask me why there was a dog show in Saratoga. The point is we went, and it was cool. For about an hour, then our college student attention spans kicked in and we realized that it was just dogs running around in circles a whole crapload of times. Watching the handlers was possibly the best part, as one had a cowboy hat, a mustache, and long curly hair (no word on whether it was a mullet, the hat didn't allow for sufficient judgment in this category, but I'm unwilling to rule out that possibility). The dogs were, of course, damn cute. There were too many cute ones to list them all, but there was a lot of "awwww"ing--at least on the part of Julia and me.
Then I went and got a new phone (yay!) and played with it for a few hours before going to a Superbowl party with the Putnam crowd. A group in which not a single person cares at all about football. Add Gus, Kevin, and me to the mix? You have got a partay. A partay at which people will constantly be asking: "Wait, who's playing again? Philadelphia? Are they the green guys?" Yeaaaah. When I know more about football than 60% of the people there, 75% of which are guys, that's a Superbowl pARty. When the refreshments consist of cheese and crackers, veggies, and spinach dip, all washed down with red wine, that's a Superbowl pARty. And when afterwards we decide to play poker, and I have to be a guy's coach cause he's only ever played once before...well I think you know what that is. Friggin Awesome.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Cowboys and Oreos
My dad came today and visited, that was good. He showed me his sweet new cowboy boots that he's been pining for since 1985 and finally convinced my stepmom to buy for him cause it was his 60th birthday. I guess he figures he doesn't have that much time left to be awesome, so he'd better get on that. Kevin also happened to be watching a western, so Dad and I watched about half an hour of "The Magnificent Seven" with him. I'm not really sure what was magnificent about them, but they looked pretty hot in their cowboy boots and tight jeans, so maybe that's what my dad's going for. But despite how cool his footwear may be, he's still hopelessly an English professor. He told me about how he's making students who come in late stay after for punishment. And yes, the pun is intentionally emphasized. Because the punishment is a horrible joke. Here's the one he gave as an example (don't ask why I deserve to be punished, he didn't make this clear):
The Boston Philharmonic is performing Beethoven's 9th symphony, and have been for the past few weeks. Now, in case you're not familiar with the ins and outs of this piece, there is a twenty-minute portion in which the bass violins don't play. This had been alright at first, but now that they've been playing it for so many nights, the musicians are starting to get bored and annoyed with this break. So the first bass violinist says to the others, "This is ridiculous, we should really just sneak out the back during this part tomorrow night and go get a few beers." So the next night, they quietly slip out backstage and head to the bar across the street. They pound down quite a few shots, and are getting pretty hammered, when the second bass violinist realizes that it’s already been 15 minutes, so he says to the others they've really got to get back. The first violinist shakes his head and reassures them, "it's fine, we don't have to rush. I tied together the pages of the conductor’s music for this part, so that should buy us some time." They sneak back in, quietly as they can, though they're pretty drunk at this point, and pick up their instruments. Around this moment, a woman in the audience turns to her husband and comments: "The conductor looks pretty flustered, what do you think is wrong?" And he turns to her and whispers, "Well how would you feel, it's the bottom of the 9th, the basses are loaded, and the score's tied"
Ha, aren't you glad you just read all that? Be consoled by the fact that it probably took you way less time to read it than it took my dad to tell it.
In other news, I was sitting in my room today before my dad came, and I heard Kev come in. He seemed to be making more noise than usual, but I didn't think too much of it. So as he's walking past my room, he tells me he had to drive down to Clifton Park to do something, I'm not sure what cause I wasn't reaally listening, but apparently he stopped by Parkway music. And I didn't like the way he said that. I soon found out why. When he lugged the two boxes containing his new drum set upstairs. So yeah. There's now a drum set 6 feet from my bedroom door. And that's all I have to say about that.
Later we went to Wal-Mart and bought some milk, cereal, mustard, double stuf oreos, and Bisquick. Three pounds of Bisquick, cause that seemed more "cost-effective." Why do I mention this? Only because I came downstairs around midnight and found Kevin pouring vegetable oil into the "Frydaddy" that Chris gave us (thanks for that by the way, I'll be sending you the bill for my triple bypass) and attempting to lift the giant box of Bisquick to poof out some clumps into the bowl of milk he'd prepared. Not getting it yet? He then grabbed a handful of oreos, and threw them into the powdery milky mess. We instructed him to add more Bisquick so it'd stick better to the cookies, which he did with a flourish, alluding to its abundance. He then dropped one of the gooey masses into the oil. Getting it now? When it was all over, we had six deep fried oreos--well six actual pieces, if you wanna go by recommended serving size, we had about 24. One was definitely about 4 times the size of a typical oreo, so I guess that was all just fried matter? Kev hadn't sweetened the Bisquick at all, so it was just like eating a biscuit with a gooey oreo in the middle--not bad exactly, but just kinda confusing. And when I say not bad, I’m speaking on a purely taste-based scale. In terms of artery-clogging, stomachache-causing, and just plain evil, they were off the charts.
Side Note: February 12th is my sister's "Middle School Dance Party." This is a party that is modeled after a dance we may have attended when we were in Middle School. Complete with Ace of Base and Coolio. And today she told me her new plan for advertising it: random mailbox valentines with the info. Sounds like a pretty normal idea right? However, here are just a few of the valentine sayings she and her R.P.I friends came up with:
"If we collided on the hash table, I'd use linear probing"
"U(x) * Me(y) is not a seperable equation"
"flash me"
"i want your cooties"
"R U a differential equation b/c I want to be tangent to your curves"
"my friend really likes you!!"
"you must be the x+ direction b/c when i'm around you my natural log increases"
"i saw your mom & she's really hot!! I guess you're the next best thing...be mine?"
"you give me a hard disk"
Half of these are lame because we might have used them in 6th grade, and the other half are lame because they make reference to something from Comp Sci or Calculus. So they're all AWESOME.
The Boston Philharmonic is performing Beethoven's 9th symphony, and have been for the past few weeks. Now, in case you're not familiar with the ins and outs of this piece, there is a twenty-minute portion in which the bass violins don't play. This had been alright at first, but now that they've been playing it for so many nights, the musicians are starting to get bored and annoyed with this break. So the first bass violinist says to the others, "This is ridiculous, we should really just sneak out the back during this part tomorrow night and go get a few beers." So the next night, they quietly slip out backstage and head to the bar across the street. They pound down quite a few shots, and are getting pretty hammered, when the second bass violinist realizes that it’s already been 15 minutes, so he says to the others they've really got to get back. The first violinist shakes his head and reassures them, "it's fine, we don't have to rush. I tied together the pages of the conductor’s music for this part, so that should buy us some time." They sneak back in, quietly as they can, though they're pretty drunk at this point, and pick up their instruments. Around this moment, a woman in the audience turns to her husband and comments: "The conductor looks pretty flustered, what do you think is wrong?" And he turns to her and whispers, "Well how would you feel, it's the bottom of the 9th, the basses are loaded, and the score's tied"
Ha, aren't you glad you just read all that? Be consoled by the fact that it probably took you way less time to read it than it took my dad to tell it.
In other news, I was sitting in my room today before my dad came, and I heard Kev come in. He seemed to be making more noise than usual, but I didn't think too much of it. So as he's walking past my room, he tells me he had to drive down to Clifton Park to do something, I'm not sure what cause I wasn't reaally listening, but apparently he stopped by Parkway music. And I didn't like the way he said that. I soon found out why. When he lugged the two boxes containing his new drum set upstairs. So yeah. There's now a drum set 6 feet from my bedroom door. And that's all I have to say about that.
Later we went to Wal-Mart and bought some milk, cereal, mustard, double stuf oreos, and Bisquick. Three pounds of Bisquick, cause that seemed more "cost-effective." Why do I mention this? Only because I came downstairs around midnight and found Kevin pouring vegetable oil into the "Frydaddy" that Chris gave us (thanks for that by the way, I'll be sending you the bill for my triple bypass) and attempting to lift the giant box of Bisquick to poof out some clumps into the bowl of milk he'd prepared. Not getting it yet? He then grabbed a handful of oreos, and threw them into the powdery milky mess. We instructed him to add more Bisquick so it'd stick better to the cookies, which he did with a flourish, alluding to its abundance. He then dropped one of the gooey masses into the oil. Getting it now? When it was all over, we had six deep fried oreos--well six actual pieces, if you wanna go by recommended serving size, we had about 24. One was definitely about 4 times the size of a typical oreo, so I guess that was all just fried matter? Kev hadn't sweetened the Bisquick at all, so it was just like eating a biscuit with a gooey oreo in the middle--not bad exactly, but just kinda confusing. And when I say not bad, I’m speaking on a purely taste-based scale. In terms of artery-clogging, stomachache-causing, and just plain evil, they were off the charts.
Side Note: February 12th is my sister's "Middle School Dance Party." This is a party that is modeled after a dance we may have attended when we were in Middle School. Complete with Ace of Base and Coolio. And today she told me her new plan for advertising it: random mailbox valentines with the info. Sounds like a pretty normal idea right? However, here are just a few of the valentine sayings she and her R.P.I friends came up with:
"If we collided on the hash table, I'd use linear probing"
"U(x) * Me(y) is not a seperable equation"
"flash me"
"i want your cooties"
"R U a differential equation b/c I want to be tangent to your curves"
"my friend really likes you!!"
"you must be the x+ direction b/c when i'm around you my natural log increases"
"i saw your mom & she's really hot!! I guess you're the next best thing...be mine?"
"you give me a hard disk"
Half of these are lame because we might have used them in 6th grade, and the other half are lame because they make reference to something from Comp Sci or Calculus. So they're all AWESOME.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
buy me a tattoo
So as I was writing an email to my best friend who's abroad (you know who you are), I realized that since more than 75% of my free time had been previously devoted to people who are currently thousands of miles away, I was now reduced to spending much of this time online trying to find new means of filling said time. Writing emails that these friends wouldn't really have time to read or respond to--as they are currently basking in the glory of all that is a new and exciting nation--was one option....creating a blog so the whole world can theoretically hear me whine? Well, that was another. As you can see, I chose the nobler option. So here's the email that had been destined for only one person, but is now presented to all of you on an electronic platter:
So tonight we decided to go to the "late night programming" at the spa, cause they had chocolate covered pretzels and "fruit" --i assumed this would include strawberries, the typical fruit one covers in chocolate (right?), but it actually was just pineapple (not even chocolate could make this good) and marachino cherries (which, being soaked in heavy syrup, didn't really hold the chocolate very well). Unfortunately, Sex in (and?) the City was also playing on that giant screen they bust out for movies in the spa. I had never watched this show, so I didnt really think anything of it, but just judging by the ten to fifteen minutes i was standing in the vicinity of the giant screen and speakers, it sucks. seriously. so annoying. so we took our spoils from the free food table upstairs where the annoyance was considerably diminished, and we talked about random bullshit for a while--i.e. the fact that Amos' phone has three way calling, tested it out to see if our phones did, etc. But then, Amos mentions this website Charlie showed him, entitled savetoby.com (note: GO HERE) I'll try to avoid spoiling it for you as much as possible, but suffice to say it sparked a desire to form an internet moneymaking scheme.
What was this scheme, you ask? Well, its not simple, but it comes down to buymytattoo.com. This will be the next great time-waster on college campuses across the nation. What will be so special about it? Glad you asked.
If you go to this website, once it exists, and donate via Paypal, you will be contributing to a pool that, if it grows large enough, will buy Gus and Kevin a tattoo. Why would you want to do such a thing?
This is not going to be your ordinary tattoo. No. Not only will Gus and Kevin get any tattoo that the site's visitors submit (provided it wins the most votes), but they will also get it on the part of their body that these visitors vote on. There will be some restrictions, but these should be minimal.
All told, after merchandising, they stand to make a shitload. For doing absolutely nothing. Thank you Toby. Thank you for encouraging my boyfriend and housemate to trade their integrity and self-respect for a price, be it a high one. And thank you Amos for initiating and continually aiding this Faustian bargain. I'm sure the weather in hell is at least nicer than upstate New York in February....
So tonight we decided to go to the "late night programming" at the spa, cause they had chocolate covered pretzels and "fruit" --i assumed this would include strawberries, the typical fruit one covers in chocolate (right?), but it actually was just pineapple (not even chocolate could make this good) and marachino cherries (which, being soaked in heavy syrup, didn't really hold the chocolate very well). Unfortunately, Sex in (and?) the City was also playing on that giant screen they bust out for movies in the spa. I had never watched this show, so I didnt really think anything of it, but just judging by the ten to fifteen minutes i was standing in the vicinity of the giant screen and speakers, it sucks. seriously. so annoying. so we took our spoils from the free food table upstairs where the annoyance was considerably diminished, and we talked about random bullshit for a while--i.e. the fact that Amos' phone has three way calling, tested it out to see if our phones did, etc. But then, Amos mentions this website Charlie showed him, entitled savetoby.com (note: GO HERE) I'll try to avoid spoiling it for you as much as possible, but suffice to say it sparked a desire to form an internet moneymaking scheme.
What was this scheme, you ask? Well, its not simple, but it comes down to buymytattoo.com. This will be the next great time-waster on college campuses across the nation. What will be so special about it? Glad you asked.
If you go to this website, once it exists, and donate via Paypal, you will be contributing to a pool that, if it grows large enough, will buy Gus and Kevin a tattoo. Why would you want to do such a thing?
This is not going to be your ordinary tattoo. No. Not only will Gus and Kevin get any tattoo that the site's visitors submit (provided it wins the most votes), but they will also get it on the part of their body that these visitors vote on. There will be some restrictions, but these should be minimal.
All told, after merchandising, they stand to make a shitload. For doing absolutely nothing. Thank you Toby. Thank you for encouraging my boyfriend and housemate to trade their integrity and self-respect for a price, be it a high one. And thank you Amos for initiating and continually aiding this Faustian bargain. I'm sure the weather in hell is at least nicer than upstate New York in February....
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