I've given up on hope for tonight's networking midterm, which I grossly underestimated. Can't let it happen for Thursday's midterm, and I know nothing (haven't read or done homework for it since this semester started).
I wish I could make myself cry. That might feel good. But laughing at Office Space provides temporary relief. ‘A federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison’. Hah.
Why is a used copy of Secret of Mana (without manual!) so expensive? Stupid supply and demand…
Length – 5:48; listen (1.8 megs)
Music322: A sequenced piece using voices I designed on a Yamaha DX-11. The only mastering done was through reverb machine and mixing board. Avante garde.
Give her happiness, give her applause. Just don't give her The Clap.
This message brought to you by the STD Prevention Bureau.
Orphen has a happy ending, and Kaiser receives 40 points more on his machine problem than he expected.
I don't really know anything. It has been exemplified by my inability to contribute to the conversation being carried by Dan and Pete last night.
They obtained a nice beer glass with the green Woodchuck logo on it, regardless of my behaviour, which makes them that much cooler. Marmota monax monax.
There was something so quirky and cute about little monkeys rolling inside indestructible balls with spring-loaded boxing gloves pushing each other off a platform that I couldn't help but laugh and laugh. Super Monkey Ball is too fun. Baby is my monkey of choice.
As in 40 degrees colder than early afternoon.
Courtesy of Ryan, I got to play Halo on a 50 in plasma screen. Just seeing such a huge display was worth it.
Someday I hope to work in a place as cool as NCSA. Not necessarily in the gadgetry, but the niceness of the building and stuff like that. No more life-sucking bureaucracy. Please, no more…
No, not those. These!
Here we have Rei (left) and Asuka, the two newest additions to my keychain collection. They are Evangelion pilots, and they are cute.
Now, if only I could turn them into humans…
Given their history, of coercision, brainwashing, money laundering, tax evasion, murders and suicides, threats, why in the name of all that is holy does the government just not storm them?
Yet the government has no qualms about shaking and shutting down Muslim charities.
Well, to hell with the Scientologists and the government.
(I forgot to stop by the bank on the way back from the studio, and now I have but small change to buy nothing. My mouth craves another Filet-O-Fish sandwich and medium fries from McDonald's. Sigh.)
I would not, or at least think not, be a good host for any popular, big budget show. It stems from my inability to use hand gestures as an effective communication tool. Just the opposite, Rachael Ray is the Queenking of synchronized hand gestures, and seemingly fake emotions. One could imagine her life as hostess for cooking shows being over if she had no arms.
At best, I could put on several faces and voices, jump around, fake laugh until I trick myself into real, uncontrollable laughter. But something tells me I'd lose that impact because my hands were in my pockets or at my sides, or folded up. People would love to hear me say weird things, though; that's the dream, anyway.
Toby, be my sidekick. The ratings would soar for a week if you did your signature Kaiser Tackle (as we cut to commercials, and before credits roll). We could definitely reach out to the Spanish-speaking community. ¿O te gustaría a chingar algunos puercos hasta tú viene?
I missed a chance to snag a Yamaha TX81Z rackmount FM synthesizer because I was too lazy and quite sure that it would go for much more than my $50 max bid.
The top bid was $63. Sigh.
All sleeping at the same time, all around 5:30 PM. One had a bad headache, one had tiredness, one had laziness. The one who was tired awoke to find the other two sleeping, and thought he had slept well into the next day.
The other two laughed mirthfully when they heard this.
And then the bad-headached one recalled dinner after a five-hour studio sesson and before sleep – the Chinese buffet of unsavory, left-out dishes – and how he tried to eat his headache away. He grew slightly sick to the stomach and sad that it didn't work out as planned.
Of late, he was quite unaccustomed to headaches; it made him more tired of life than usual.
Dank, that is. I was solicited for interest in helping them get back on their feet, but apparently they managed without me the second time around. (How unappreciated I was when I helped and guided Dan (not him) in getting their backend working whilst on his server. Ah well. One more link to refresh compulsively.)
A slice of strawberry cream cheese creme cake (as the label names it), a drizzle of chocolate syrup, two clumps of Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream, another drizzle of syrup. Finishing remaining ice cream with chocolate syrup to taste.
So this book, The Printed Bengali Character and its Evolution hopes to address both the history of Bengali letters and (I think) possible ways to rectify the shitty condition of contemporary talks about the beginnings of foundry type regarding Bengali characters, ensuing complexities and complications with Linotype and Monotype casts, and the now appalling condition of Bengali typography. (It really is shitty. Everything is a pain to read, especially for people like me who didn't grow up learning the alphabet.)
Which is good, because while in Bangladesh, I had the idea that I'd go back and set things straight. It would start with the study of old manuscripts (which I've seen several samples of, and they're all a million times nicer than anything printed I've seen so far), and then that would pave the way on a better system of typesetting. And I'd design a few nice Bengali typefaces. And find a way to thin out the hundred-or-so ligatures that are used, and, at times, confusing.
Also, I'd begin to take stabs at the grammatical structure of things (as they relate to phonetics). My terminology has to be off here.
At least, I hope to. This book might better prepare me for the road ahead.
Another reason why theoretical computer science doesn't fit into my life.
The Library & Information Sciences library rocks to the fullest. I will make a concerted effort to devour these books as quickly as possible so that I have a legitimate excuse to borrow more.
There are lots of people roaming campus during the day. (Far too many pack the buses in such lovely weather.) I'm starting to miss not being a part of the crowd of people that amass and disperse every hour.
No time for regrets, though!; someday I'll be lost in a crowd more regularly (if dreams are to come true). This morning is much more satisfying and productive than I would've expected at 6 am, eyes wanting to shut down and all. And the day is still young. Gotta stay focused.
To think, I grudgingly told my parents last night that yes, it was fine after all to visit today. Shame on me. I should've apologized to them about that; I just wasn't sure if I wanted to take off a couple of hours from a never-ending task.
Dinner was a nice diversion from scrambling to get a project done for work (never mind the enormous amounts of reading and two assignments to finish by Tuesday and Thursday). I ate to my stomach's content, then we split a Cookie Monster. There's a child in my stomach now. She's starting her third trimester.
And I paid for dinner, for once. All these times they've paid for me, and all these times I've dropped money on myself. It's about damn time.
(That phrase is a definition to look out for. Hopefully.)
I'm looking forward to going home for spring break.