Category: Angst

October 16, 2003 /

I smile habitually at people I don’t know, when making eye contact. When I’m tired or it’s raining, it’s like saying “Hey, yeah, you know, all in it together, hang tough.” Otherwise, it’s my version of “Hello! Don’t shoot.”

This morning at the bus stop:

Harrassed-Looking
Woman:		 “Excuse me. You got a cigarette?”
Me: “No, I’m sorry.”
(HLW pauses, looks around, looks back)
HLW: “Makes you happy, doesn’t it? Makes you happy to refuse people.”
Me: “No, I… don’t smoke.”
HLW: “Then why you smiling like that? I’ll tell you why. It’s ’cause you’re an asshole.“

Kentucky. It’s that friendly.

October 15, 2003 /

I’m sitting here at my computer and all of a sudden I start to feel the floor jump under my feet. What the hell? I’ve been living here two and a half months and I’ve never felt anything like this. I’m on the tenth floor of a solid-concrete building! And Kentucky doesn’t have baby earthquakes!

If I die in a pile of rubble or anything, somebody please take care of my piano.

Apparently only my boy friends have blogs.

October 9, 2003 /

Yo ho. I emerge from the shark-thick waters, knife in my teeth and a steely glint in my eye, having taken all three of my double-damned midterms in ONE DAY and lived to tell the scurvy tale. Yo ho.

And now, in lieu of booty, I go to Lexington. What reward holds Lexington, you ask? It holds Jon. It holds Monica. It will hold me and Ken and Maria, and most importantly, it will hold ANGIE APARO!

October 2, 2003 /

And I pulled another all-nighter (bringing our running total for this week up to–yes!–two) and I finished the whole thing this time, and it works, and it’s 18 pages of code and 10 pages of report in fourteen hours, and I am fuck yes proud of it.

Actually I’m mostly proud because last night, I learned Java. Like all of it. I’d never written anything besides a Hello World in the language before, and last night I sat down and implemented polymorphs and overrides and extensions like a fucking Sun cowboy. I’m thinking I probably won’t go to my last class of the day too often anymore, because it’s basically How To Do Java When You Only Know C++, and I think I just made that whole concept call me daddy.

It was a long night, but hell, I know a new language now. And although yes, I took a half-hour nap that turned into a one-hour nap and I was late for the class where I had to hand it in, I biked like a demon (on one hour of sleep) and got there without being too late at all. My professor didn’t seem to mind, at least. He’s bland, but he’s awfully nice.

Tonight I clean and nap and clean some more, preparing for my mother and sister to descend upon my apartment and find it wanting. Then tomorrow it’s Ian’s birthday. Happy birthday, Ian! I didn’t get you anything.

October 1, 2003 /

“Coleman said he remained worried about the ‘heavy-handedness’ of the lawsuits, which carried fines of up to $150,000 for each song shared from their hard drives. When asked whether the fines were excessive, Bainwol said they got consumers’ attention and established a deterrent. ‘Public floggings would get attention, too, but we don’t do that,’ Coleman responded.”

Well played, Senator Coleman. Well played.

Meanwhile, over at Music That Is Free And Also Fricking Rocks, Amanda informs me that Jon has put new songs up on his IUMA page. (I have to find this out from Amanda because someone else never updates his blog. But I digress.) And! They fricking rock! “Later” and particularly “Gun” remind me of the reformed-ELO-fan sound of 56 Kilobit Sentinel, and the lo-fi / high harmony contrast in “Letting Go” might be my favorite moment in a Jon song yet. Plus the outro rocks like Silverchair.

September 28, 2003 /

Audrey and Drew. It’s all their fault. If not for their meddling influences, I could have gone to the craft store with Maria and (Illinoisan entomologist) Annie and spent a mere $20 on new Microns. Ta da! The end!

Except the aforementioned two have talked lots about inking with metal-nib pens and brushes, respectively, and I saw some of that stuff at Michael’s and got all excited and WHOOPS there goes all the money I had next month.

I’m calling it an “investment.” That makes it okay to shave a little bit off the future-budget for, oh, as long as I’m alive.

Anyway, at least I’ll be trying new art stuff. Expect to see shaky new black-and-white things in the Chalkboard as I get my… ink-legs. I guess.

Now: Kruskal’s algorithm!

September 22, 2003 /

“Just imagine squeezing a monkey into a deflated balloon, and then inserting that balloon into another, much bigger balloon, and then filling the space between the two carcasses with strawberry jam. Even though you can’t see its shape anymore, there’s a monkey in there, and it still performs most of the normal monkey functions like picking up pencils and making fun of the teacher; it just has to do so through a load of blubber. That is what I sit by in class.”

Rejoice, ye people, for AUDREY HAS A BLOG!

September 15, 2003 /

There’s a bit of rough going, as you might have noticed, as I try to install my journal software on the new server. It’ll be back, honest idjit. Meanwhile, things I’ve been meaning to talk about:

  • Sumana has not only been published in Salon, she’s also turned 22 (Sumana is younger than me. I can’t stand it) and written what is possibly the definitive blog entry on spam.
  • Lisa is back at school, next to Flora, having fun without me and taking my single favorite picture of a door ever.
  • My roommate Maria is taking about eighteen exams today, over there in dag blasted medical school. Wish her luck! I’m not really worried about her, since (as I recently discovered) she has a photographic memory. Never try to win an argument with someone who has a photographic memory. Or rather, try as you will, but get ready to lose a lot.
  • The new work-school-rest-school-work schedule is working out very well–it’s a lot of effort, but I’m never as tired as I was this summer, partly because the breakup in my week keeps me refreshed and life interesting. I’m also doing a lot at work. Putting up dummy pages for my journal, for instance. No, I’m not doing anything actually work-related.

That’s most of it. With any luck, the journal will be back this week, but I wouldn’t wager any real estate on it. Meanwhile, if I have any updates of lesser importance, I’ll post in the (again) spanking new forums. Take care. Wear a jacket.

This actually took place about 24 hours ago.

August 30, 2003 /

2212 hrs and Emma Hayes has tricked me into showing up at a party at her house, filled with cool hip extremely professional twentysomethings I don’t know. Emma Hayes herself is predictably not here, so I’ve vaguely procured a 7-Up from her roommate Dawn. I am lucky to have met Dawn once in a parking lot, and to have her mercifully remember me.

Here I am sitting on the front porch of a freshly warmed house, trying to look writerly with my pocket Moleskine. Perhaps, I think, this will politely make it less obvious that I have no idea what I’m doing.

Adventure!

Sumana is not actually the big sister I never had, and would probably be a little weirded out if I claimed she was, but she DID display a frighteningly big sisterish sixth sense in calling about half an hour after I wrote that down. This was wonderful; it gave me a good excuse to laugh for twenty minutes, recharged my ability to talk to humans, and gave evidence that I have a life outside of showing up at parties filled with people I don’t know.

Emma finally did show up at what, 2320 hrs? And it was great to see her, and I got to know some of the people at the party. By the time I hitched home (around 0300) I had actually had a good time. None of this outweighs the first panicky hour I spent retreating into introversion, though, really. There’s a reason for the fact that, in college, I only went to parties in my own apartment.