Call Me
ex. 3626
ring me up at my cubicle and brighten my day
Monday, January 31, 2005
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Witness Volleyball
Seeing as how this is likely my last semester at Murray State and how I'm more or less finished with a Master's Degree, I've decided to reward all of my hard work (BS Chemistry in 4 years, MS Occupational Safety and Health Industrial Hygiene, 1.5-2 years, been taking college courses since 1995 (I'm 24, do the math)) with some fun classes: social dance and volleyball.
Volleyball class is a nice change of pace because I get to move around a lot and beat the hell out of a little white ball. I was a pretty decent player (nothing hits the ground, effin hard serves) and probably would have played all four years of high school had I not loathed the coaches and had such a number done on my body by diving into the ground every day after school for 2 hours five months out of the year. It's my first class of the day on Mondays and Wednesdays, so I get to just roll out of bed and toss on some sweats for class. It's a good way to get the blood pumping and I've been feeling better having more physical activity.
Because even the teacher for the class told us that "Volleyball is the easiest class at Murray State. If you show up, you will get an A. You do not have to be good, you do not have to even play. All you need to do to get an A in this class is show up. If you do not want to play, go sit on the bleachers. If you are on the bleachers everyday, you will get your A. If you do want to play, come wearing appropriate clothing every day we have class to get your A..."
Well, you get the picture. My class if filled with an interesting amalgam of individuals. And to make things more interesting, the fellow that is supposed to be teaching the class has been injured, so the Chinese assistant coach is our teacher. I like the fellow, but english is not his forte, and people in the class will say things like "omigawd! i don't understand him!" but see, I do understand him because if I can understand Dahren Che at SIUC telling me how to code C++ in broken english, I can understand the delightful Coach P telling me how to hit a ball.
This morning, while practicing spiking, I'm standing in line and I notice the girl next to me smiling. I smile back, as I generally do when others smile at me (though I'm careful to not make eye contact because that could be taken as a sign of aggression and 10 am is too early for serious confrontation). We exchange names, pleasantries, and then...she asks me if I like Jesus.
Well, at least it was an easy question. Asking someone if they like Jesus (especially around here) is like asking a person if they'd like a drink of water after they've been digging ditches for hours. It's like asking a fat kid if he'd like another scoop of ice cream. It's like asking me if I'd like another white russian... So I tell her that "Yes, I do like Jesus." She smiles at me more. Then, she asks me "Have you ever experienced worship with the Christ Ambassadors?" What? Could this be? "No, I have my own church." "Which one is that?" I name drop a church, feeling uncomfortable because I'm the type of person that would rather tell a stranger about the contents of my underwear drawer than tell a stranger about my faith. She presses further. "I can't believe that you're a graduate student and you've never worshipped with us." I use the old standby..."Well, I have my own place." We stand there in silence, the line is moving and soon I'll be too busy spiking a volleyball to talk about such things.
Then she asks me, "Do you feel your faith has helped you in getting through college?" I cannot believe this-she's trying to administer a survey to me in the middle of class.
"Well, Jesus does write most of my papers..." My reply is met with silence and I realize that perhaps I should say something else to make it less apparent that I'm in dire need of 'saving.' "Actually, the fact that I've gotten this far in school is a miracle in iteself, so yes."
And with that, I tossed the volleyball to Coach P and hit that ball with all my might, visions of volleyball glory dancing through my head.
Seeing as how this is likely my last semester at Murray State and how I'm more or less finished with a Master's Degree, I've decided to reward all of my hard work (BS Chemistry in 4 years, MS Occupational Safety and Health Industrial Hygiene, 1.5-2 years, been taking college courses since 1995 (I'm 24, do the math)) with some fun classes: social dance and volleyball.
Volleyball class is a nice change of pace because I get to move around a lot and beat the hell out of a little white ball. I was a pretty decent player (nothing hits the ground, effin hard serves) and probably would have played all four years of high school had I not loathed the coaches and had such a number done on my body by diving into the ground every day after school for 2 hours five months out of the year. It's my first class of the day on Mondays and Wednesdays, so I get to just roll out of bed and toss on some sweats for class. It's a good way to get the blood pumping and I've been feeling better having more physical activity.
Because even the teacher for the class told us that "Volleyball is the easiest class at Murray State. If you show up, you will get an A. You do not have to be good, you do not have to even play. All you need to do to get an A in this class is show up. If you do not want to play, go sit on the bleachers. If you are on the bleachers everyday, you will get your A. If you do want to play, come wearing appropriate clothing every day we have class to get your A..."
Well, you get the picture. My class if filled with an interesting amalgam of individuals. And to make things more interesting, the fellow that is supposed to be teaching the class has been injured, so the Chinese assistant coach is our teacher. I like the fellow, but english is not his forte, and people in the class will say things like "omigawd! i don't understand him!" but see, I do understand him because if I can understand Dahren Che at SIUC telling me how to code C++ in broken english, I can understand the delightful Coach P telling me how to hit a ball.
This morning, while practicing spiking, I'm standing in line and I notice the girl next to me smiling. I smile back, as I generally do when others smile at me (though I'm careful to not make eye contact because that could be taken as a sign of aggression and 10 am is too early for serious confrontation). We exchange names, pleasantries, and then...she asks me if I like Jesus.
Well, at least it was an easy question. Asking someone if they like Jesus (especially around here) is like asking a person if they'd like a drink of water after they've been digging ditches for hours. It's like asking a fat kid if he'd like another scoop of ice cream. It's like asking me if I'd like another white russian... So I tell her that "Yes, I do like Jesus." She smiles at me more. Then, she asks me "Have you ever experienced worship with the Christ Ambassadors?" What? Could this be? "No, I have my own church." "Which one is that?" I name drop a church, feeling uncomfortable because I'm the type of person that would rather tell a stranger about the contents of my underwear drawer than tell a stranger about my faith. She presses further. "I can't believe that you're a graduate student and you've never worshipped with us." I use the old standby..."Well, I have my own place." We stand there in silence, the line is moving and soon I'll be too busy spiking a volleyball to talk about such things.
Then she asks me, "Do you feel your faith has helped you in getting through college?" I cannot believe this-she's trying to administer a survey to me in the middle of class.
"Well, Jesus does write most of my papers..." My reply is met with silence and I realize that perhaps I should say something else to make it less apparent that I'm in dire need of 'saving.' "Actually, the fact that I've gotten this far in school is a miracle in iteself, so yes."
And with that, I tossed the volleyball to Coach P and hit that ball with all my might, visions of volleyball glory dancing through my head.
Jerb v2.0
These days I'm working for the university as a Graduate Assistant, which is nice because I basically get to set my own hours and work as long and hard (or as little) as I please (seeing that I get things done). I'll be helping to create curriculum in Homeland Security, a topic that greatly interests me as well as a few other projects. When I'm not working on this, I'll be monitoring a computer lab for six hours a week, which gives me time to review for the GRE (if I'm going to take it, I might as well do very well) and work on classwork while I'm ensuring the computers do not walk away or someone flips out because they have to reset their account to log on to the computers (username: murray, password: racers, follow the instructions on the screen and stfu). I admit: I have it very well.
I'm digging my cubicle too. It's toward the front of the office, but it's actually in an area of low scrutiny (ie-I'm not as easily seen). This makes it a bit more tolerable that my back is more or less facing a door (one that gets little traffic, but a door nevertheless). I've always had this thing about sitting with my back to a door...perhaps it started when learning about wild west lore and the dead man's hand. Wild Bill Hickock sat with his back to a door and we all saw how that turned out (beware aces and eights...as I make a mental note to not play cards at my desk).
I have keys to various things around the department and access to office equipment, supplies, and the refrigerator (which I'm not going to use because I know I'll fly off the handle if/when someone eats my sandwich, especially since I've been buying the good sundried tomato turkey lately) . Now if I can only find a shredder. Once that (assuming it exists) is located, I'll be set because I've grown accustomed to shredding EVERYTHING before it goes in the trash because I'll admit that I'm paranoid of people going through my trashcan.
Finally, I get to induldge in the girlish joy of adorning my cubicle. The girl who had the cubicle before me had ladybug paraphernalia splashed throughout the place...so far all I have is a poster for MIFA (Murray Independent Filmmaker Association) Movie Nights proudly displayed (Monday Nights, 7:30, Curris Center Theater, all the cool kids are doing it). I need some coasters and a cup to hold my pens and pencils until someone plunders them. Everyone else has pictures of their family, friends, pets, etc on display. I think I'll put up pictures of complete strangers, or the picture that came with the frame. That way, when someone points at a picture and goes "Oh, he's handsome! Is that your boyfriend? " I can say "No, he came with the frame."
These days I'm working for the university as a Graduate Assistant, which is nice because I basically get to set my own hours and work as long and hard (or as little) as I please (seeing that I get things done). I'll be helping to create curriculum in Homeland Security, a topic that greatly interests me as well as a few other projects. When I'm not working on this, I'll be monitoring a computer lab for six hours a week, which gives me time to review for the GRE (if I'm going to take it, I might as well do very well) and work on classwork while I'm ensuring the computers do not walk away or someone flips out because they have to reset their account to log on to the computers (username: murray, password: racers, follow the instructions on the screen and stfu). I admit: I have it very well.
I'm digging my cubicle too. It's toward the front of the office, but it's actually in an area of low scrutiny (ie-I'm not as easily seen). This makes it a bit more tolerable that my back is more or less facing a door (one that gets little traffic, but a door nevertheless). I've always had this thing about sitting with my back to a door...perhaps it started when learning about wild west lore and the dead man's hand. Wild Bill Hickock sat with his back to a door and we all saw how that turned out (beware aces and eights...as I make a mental note to not play cards at my desk).
I have keys to various things around the department and access to office equipment, supplies, and the refrigerator (which I'm not going to use because I know I'll fly off the handle if/when someone eats my sandwich, especially since I've been buying the good sundried tomato turkey lately) . Now if I can only find a shredder. Once that (assuming it exists) is located, I'll be set because I've grown accustomed to shredding EVERYTHING before it goes in the trash because I'll admit that I'm paranoid of people going through my trashcan.
Finally, I get to induldge in the girlish joy of adorning my cubicle. The girl who had the cubicle before me had ladybug paraphernalia splashed throughout the place...so far all I have is a poster for MIFA (Murray Independent Filmmaker Association) Movie Nights proudly displayed (Monday Nights, 7:30, Curris Center Theater, all the cool kids are doing it). I need some coasters and a cup to hold my pens and pencils until someone plunders them. Everyone else has pictures of their family, friends, pets, etc on display. I think I'll put up pictures of complete strangers, or the picture that came with the frame. That way, when someone points at a picture and goes "Oh, he's handsome! Is that your boyfriend? " I can say "No, he came with the frame."
Saturday, January 22, 2005
...In Bed.
Here I lie in the dead of night, kept warm by the heat and glow of a computer. Technology-what makes the nights less dark and less cold. Currently my only source of intelligent conversation at this hour.
There's something about bed and night that's conducive to thought. I get some of my best ideas and I've had some of my best conversations while lying in bed. But I can't turn off my thoughts once my head hits the pillow. Not being able to turn off thoughts doesn't always have to be a bad thing. Believe me, more often than not, I'm awake thinking about the future-planning and plotting...I've solved problems, written papers, programs, and thought through laboratory work while lying in bed. Some of my greatest theories on life, love, and the universe have come to me in the night.
Here with this computer, it's nice to think of an idea and then google or wikipedia it to learn more information before jotting down some notes in notepad before moving on to my next idea. Having information at my fingertips is nice, but right now I wish I had some intelligent life or good company to listen, give feedback, or share ideas. It'd be nice to share some thinking space, but for now, I'll settle for the warm glow of the screen. Though let me say for the record, of all the things that can happen in bed, the sharing of ideas is (to me, at least) the most arousing.
Here I lie in the dead of night, kept warm by the heat and glow of a computer. Technology-what makes the nights less dark and less cold. Currently my only source of intelligent conversation at this hour.
There's something about bed and night that's conducive to thought. I get some of my best ideas and I've had some of my best conversations while lying in bed. But I can't turn off my thoughts once my head hits the pillow. Not being able to turn off thoughts doesn't always have to be a bad thing. Believe me, more often than not, I'm awake thinking about the future-planning and plotting...I've solved problems, written papers, programs, and thought through laboratory work while lying in bed. Some of my greatest theories on life, love, and the universe have come to me in the night.
Here with this computer, it's nice to think of an idea and then google or wikipedia it to learn more information before jotting down some notes in notepad before moving on to my next idea. Having information at my fingertips is nice, but right now I wish I had some intelligent life or good company to listen, give feedback, or share ideas. It'd be nice to share some thinking space, but for now, I'll settle for the warm glow of the screen. Though let me say for the record, of all the things that can happen in bed, the sharing of ideas is (to me, at least) the most arousing.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Proof
How much proof does it take to adequately convince one of something? Of all the subsets of chemistry, the one that is most tricky is social chemistry. And yet, the rule of proof/disproof remains the same: a theory could be shown to be true a million times over, and yet all it takes is one experiment that successfully shows said theory to be false. Of course, theories are often based on observations of past behavior...so unless something seriously deviates from past precedence, the theory would probably hold sound. But nothing is certain because in social chemistry, variables like insecurity and overanalysis cannot be controlled for, therfore-what can be done to aid in predicting outcomes and making sound theories? While I ponder the methodology for such a thing, I guess I'll fall back on a component of science that often goes unmentioned: faith. Faith that intuition and gut feeling will lead to a cogent conclusion. Faith that all will some day be understood. Faith that I will not mess up this experiment. Faith that systematic error will not corrupt the experiment. Social chemistry-the most interesting, the most difficult.
How much proof does it take to adequately convince one of something? Of all the subsets of chemistry, the one that is most tricky is social chemistry. And yet, the rule of proof/disproof remains the same: a theory could be shown to be true a million times over, and yet all it takes is one experiment that successfully shows said theory to be false. Of course, theories are often based on observations of past behavior...so unless something seriously deviates from past precedence, the theory would probably hold sound. But nothing is certain because in social chemistry, variables like insecurity and overanalysis cannot be controlled for, therfore-what can be done to aid in predicting outcomes and making sound theories? While I ponder the methodology for such a thing, I guess I'll fall back on a component of science that often goes unmentioned: faith. Faith that intuition and gut feeling will lead to a cogent conclusion. Faith that all will some day be understood. Faith that I will not mess up this experiment. Faith that systematic error will not corrupt the experiment. Social chemistry-the most interesting, the most difficult.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
I Typically Don't Pay Attention to Such Things, but...
I've always enjoyed this (probable) university urban legend, mainly because it refers to one of my favorite things in the world: the chemical laws of the universe. Enjoy!
HOT OR COLD?
The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term examination. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is of course why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well. //and you wonder why I think this is an urban myth
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools off when it expands and heats up when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:
"First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate that souls are moving into Hell and the rate they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Some of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. This gives two possibilities: 1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose. 2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over. So which is it? 3. If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year, that ..."it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded in having sexual relations with her, then No. 2 cannot be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and will not freeze."
The student received the only "A." //of course, otherwise it's not that great of an urban myth, eh?
I've always enjoyed this (probable) university urban legend, mainly because it refers to one of my favorite things in the world: the chemical laws of the universe. Enjoy!
HOT OR COLD?
The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term examination. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is of course why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well. //and you wonder why I think this is an urban myth
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools off when it expands and heats up when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:
"First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate that souls are moving into Hell and the rate they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Some of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. This gives two possibilities: 1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose. 2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over. So which is it? 3. If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year, that ..."it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded in having sexual relations with her, then No. 2 cannot be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and will not freeze."
The student received the only "A." //of course, otherwise it's not that great of an urban myth, eh?
Is This Some Sort of Sign
Today I was looking around the silver and fine china at Famous Barr in downtown St. Louis. Now, I rarely pay attention to such things, but it was next to the Christmas clearance items that Mom was checking out, so I decided to peruse the silverware patterns. And, true to my inner girl, within five minutes, I was picking out a pattern for my "hope chest" - a stock pile of things with which to set up house after I walk the plank of holy matrimony.
Oneida pattern "Act I" caught my eye because of its simple lines and lack of extraneous adornment. Modern minimalism at it's best! I picked up the butter knife and began to day dream of all the fabulous bread I'd serve at fabulous dinner parties at the fabulous house I shared with my fabulous husband (who will actually be known as 'that poor bastard that married me')...and then I felt the tiny teeth of the knife slip across my thumb and felt a slight sting. I was jolted back to reality when I saw my own blood sprinkled across the blade and bubbling up out of a new opening in my finger. I spent the rest of the afternoon with several bandaids wrapped around my right thumb (one of the most inconvenient places to be cut) and having to periodically readjust them. I've felt the wound reopen a few times and it...is an interesting sensation. Dare I say it feels kind of cool.
I'm taking this as some sort of sign...that I'm not supposed to even think about someday getting matrimony silver? Or maybe I'm just not supposed to get Oneida "Act I." Or maybe it's that butter knives are just as dangerous as the ones intended for steaks...
Today I was looking around the silver and fine china at Famous Barr in downtown St. Louis. Now, I rarely pay attention to such things, but it was next to the Christmas clearance items that Mom was checking out, so I decided to peruse the silverware patterns. And, true to my inner girl, within five minutes, I was picking out a pattern for my "hope chest" - a stock pile of things with which to set up house after I walk the plank of holy matrimony.
Oneida pattern "Act I" caught my eye because of its simple lines and lack of extraneous adornment. Modern minimalism at it's best! I picked up the butter knife and began to day dream of all the fabulous bread I'd serve at fabulous dinner parties at the fabulous house I shared with my fabulous husband (who will actually be known as 'that poor bastard that married me')...and then I felt the tiny teeth of the knife slip across my thumb and felt a slight sting. I was jolted back to reality when I saw my own blood sprinkled across the blade and bubbling up out of a new opening in my finger. I spent the rest of the afternoon with several bandaids wrapped around my right thumb (one of the most inconvenient places to be cut) and having to periodically readjust them. I've felt the wound reopen a few times and it...is an interesting sensation. Dare I say it feels kind of cool.
I'm taking this as some sort of sign...that I'm not supposed to even think about someday getting matrimony silver? Or maybe I'm just not supposed to get Oneida "Act I." Or maybe it's that butter knives are just as dangerous as the ones intended for steaks...
Thursday, January 13, 2005
From Urban Dictionary...
Sparky.
"A highly aggressive female god. In need a spading as well as some of her shots. Hard to train and may have a problem with liquor. Also has a major liking for anything Star Wars. All around a very strange dog."
Replace Star Wars with "X-Files" and I'd say in a lot of ways, it's rather spot-on.
Is your name/"name" listed in the urban dictionary?
Sparky.
"A highly aggressive female god. In need a spading as well as some of her shots. Hard to train and may have a problem with liquor. Also has a major liking for anything Star Wars. All around a very strange dog."
Replace Star Wars with "X-Files" and I'd say in a lot of ways, it's rather spot-on.
Is your name/"name" listed in the urban dictionary?
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Waiting...
By now, I could go pro as a waiter...being one who just waits-not one who serves food.
I spend most of my days waiting. I wait for the weekend to come so I can have fun and hang out. I wait for my time at work to end on slow days. I wait for slow classes to end. I wait until I have arrived at my destination when driving to and from Murray or anywhere else I go. I'm waiting for winter break to end so I can once again feel the sensation of forward motion. I wait in front of the computer. I wait for people.
Of course, great things can be accomplished by waiting. Take the British, for example. I feel a large part of their success in the war effort back in WWII was the ability of the people to wait things out. Keeping a firm upper lip and going on with life, waiting for it all to end, hoping they'd still be there to see the return of better days. So, in short, it's not entirely bad to wait.
But when I find myself pacing the house at night, waiting for the sun to rise, I realize it's time to find a new past time. I don't know why I've developed since an aversion to the night. I used to love it when the sun went down because that's when the wind usually calms and suddenly it's more mild and I could go outside without sunscreen. I could do things by the cover of nightfall. I think I could actually be nocturnal if lifestyle allowed. I think it's the loneliness that gets to me. Everyone else is dead to the world, but I'm still very much awake. It feels like being the only person on Earth.
By now, I could go pro as a waiter...being one who just waits-not one who serves food.
I spend most of my days waiting. I wait for the weekend to come so I can have fun and hang out. I wait for my time at work to end on slow days. I wait for slow classes to end. I wait until I have arrived at my destination when driving to and from Murray or anywhere else I go. I'm waiting for winter break to end so I can once again feel the sensation of forward motion. I wait in front of the computer. I wait for people.
Of course, great things can be accomplished by waiting. Take the British, for example. I feel a large part of their success in the war effort back in WWII was the ability of the people to wait things out. Keeping a firm upper lip and going on with life, waiting for it all to end, hoping they'd still be there to see the return of better days. So, in short, it's not entirely bad to wait.
But when I find myself pacing the house at night, waiting for the sun to rise, I realize it's time to find a new past time. I don't know why I've developed since an aversion to the night. I used to love it when the sun went down because that's when the wind usually calms and suddenly it's more mild and I could go outside without sunscreen. I could do things by the cover of nightfall. I think I could actually be nocturnal if lifestyle allowed. I think it's the loneliness that gets to me. Everyone else is dead to the world, but I'm still very much awake. It feels like being the only person on Earth.
Monday, January 03, 2005
Winter Break Musings
The weather is beautiful. Being at home with family is great. Christmas was white. I never realized that I needed a prolonged break from Murray until I had been home for a few days.
It's nice to get away and mentally work through some different things. No real drama/trauma, just little things like plotting my next life move and setting some goals for the upcoming semester. I love my friends, but it's nice to get away for a bit because I know I'll go back to school with a renewed appreciation for everyone. It's also nice to enjoy some quiet time and indulge in things like staying in the house for a couple of days at a time and wearing only pajamas or jeans and really old tshirts. I haven't worn makeup nor have I done my hair for almost a week. It seems like it's been a week since I've worn actual shoes.
This week, I will have finished my self-assigned reading assignments when I complete 1984. No longer will that book just be for show. I will have read it and formed some sort of opinion. Ask me about this book later.
Set up DSL and a wireless network in my parent's house today. Not having the internet readily available gave me this strange feeling of being cut off from the world. However, it did help with being somewhat productive on different writing and drawing projects. I also noticed that I feel like I glean more information reading cnn.com than I do actually watching CNN. Also, cell phones with web access are nifty and/or a life saver.
Finally, I'm returning to Murray tomorrow to check on everything, get my mail, get out of Illinois for a bit (is it raining down there too?) and make some modifications to my humble abode.
New in 2005
I'm not making any resolutions this year. I'm just going to shut up and do.
Picture Captivation
I've spent all evening looking at pictures, becoming increasingly captivated with a new subject that has piqued my interest. Dare I say I'm developing an unhealthy interest in this subject, but after hours of searching, I found a picture that captured an idea I've been playing in my head over and over for the duration of break. This idea has become something that my mind wanders to when I'm just there-driving, riding in a car, sitting in a chair, in bed...it's something I think about every day and it makes me happy because it makes me think. This idea is something I could see myself pursuing in time, but for now, I'll just think about it a little too much.
The Girl in Glasses
Going several days without wearing my contacts has given me a newfound appreciation for my glasses. If it weren't for superior peripheral vision and comfort, I'd abandon my contacts entirely. Picking out another pair in a week and am pretty excited about that. Thinking something with more oval frames in tortoise shell. I want glasses that scream 'dirty librarian!' ... or at least 'smart, hot girl.' Now taking suggestions for new eyeglass style.
The weather is beautiful. Being at home with family is great. Christmas was white. I never realized that I needed a prolonged break from Murray until I had been home for a few days.
It's nice to get away and mentally work through some different things. No real drama/trauma, just little things like plotting my next life move and setting some goals for the upcoming semester. I love my friends, but it's nice to get away for a bit because I know I'll go back to school with a renewed appreciation for everyone. It's also nice to enjoy some quiet time and indulge in things like staying in the house for a couple of days at a time and wearing only pajamas or jeans and really old tshirts. I haven't worn makeup nor have I done my hair for almost a week. It seems like it's been a week since I've worn actual shoes.
This week, I will have finished my self-assigned reading assignments when I complete 1984. No longer will that book just be for show. I will have read it and formed some sort of opinion. Ask me about this book later.
Set up DSL and a wireless network in my parent's house today. Not having the internet readily available gave me this strange feeling of being cut off from the world. However, it did help with being somewhat productive on different writing and drawing projects. I also noticed that I feel like I glean more information reading cnn.com than I do actually watching CNN. Also, cell phones with web access are nifty and/or a life saver.
Finally, I'm returning to Murray tomorrow to check on everything, get my mail, get out of Illinois for a bit (is it raining down there too?) and make some modifications to my humble abode.
New in 2005
I'm not making any resolutions this year. I'm just going to shut up and do.
Picture Captivation
I've spent all evening looking at pictures, becoming increasingly captivated with a new subject that has piqued my interest. Dare I say I'm developing an unhealthy interest in this subject, but after hours of searching, I found a picture that captured an idea I've been playing in my head over and over for the duration of break. This idea has become something that my mind wanders to when I'm just there-driving, riding in a car, sitting in a chair, in bed...it's something I think about every day and it makes me happy because it makes me think. This idea is something I could see myself pursuing in time, but for now, I'll just think about it a little too much.
The Girl in Glasses
Going several days without wearing my contacts has given me a newfound appreciation for my glasses. If it weren't for superior peripheral vision and comfort, I'd abandon my contacts entirely. Picking out another pair in a week and am pretty excited about that. Thinking something with more oval frames in tortoise shell. I want glasses that scream 'dirty librarian!' ... or at least 'smart, hot girl.' Now taking suggestions for new eyeglass style.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
