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Looking through the online gradebook, I've discovered that, so far, I've scored above average on this morning's final: just a touch over 50%. Which was the minimum raw score I was hoping for. If things get curved, so much the better. If I hadn't guessed on more problems than I wanted to, the score would've been higher.
And today's typography critique, if you could call even call it that, went well. Three out of five students scheduled for today, and that included me. And only two of us actually had everything completed. My stuff clearly kicked ass.
Next up is Russian literature (really, memoirs of famous Russian writers), and the dreaded computer networking. The former is worth 67% of my grade and would be an easy A if I found someone with most of the lecture notes; the latter will be a struggle if I don't start studying tomorrow.
Someone left his/her credit card at Kinko's. Before I could even think of acting immorally, I gave it to one of the workers. Oh, the miseries I could have created for my own gain…
I want to grow wings out of my back and fly. Like Archangel.
With less than four hours to go, I find myself unprepared for physics, even though I've basically gone through the material already a couple of weeks ago. (Mistakes were made in deciding to slack in it the past couple of weeks.)
Waking up at 2 AM sucks and is unnatural; my eyes are grumpy.
And I was reminded of the Oregon house while sitting on Toby's bed skimming the physics textbook.
How much weight have I gained in the past two weeks?
To all my folks up at this hour, cramming along, this paragraph is for you. We will eventually die, and grades won't matter the tiniest bit then.
‘I know why everything reminds you of something else. You don't want to be here’, he says.
Exactly.
One. Everyone should shower Paige with a platonic, non-physical substance kind of love because she bound my typography project into a nifty booklet.
Two. Mandy Moore is cute and sexy and adorable.
Three. I've discovered a new layer of sound in ‘The Big Come Down’, and it's because I listened to it on my Discman.
Have I started studying for my final tomorrow morning? I would have to say no. But it's because I work slow at this whole design ish.
For some reason, I love that it's dark and rainy this morning. Perfect in its own way.
There was an awesome thundering just a few moments ago that triggered a car alarm to go off. Unless it was just pure coincedence.
Let's hope it stays like this for the rest of the day. I need some productive stimulus before I fall behind beyond salvage. (I can't often pull all-nighters.)
A lot of things keep reminding me of Bangladesh.
Few things beat freshly grilled hamburgers and bratwursts.
it's the remix to ignition
comin' fresh out the kitchen
Such a good, good show. Better than The Cosby Show. (Cosby was just too damn ackward. If Fresh Prince was out at the same time, it'd catch the spotlight.)
If I ever came to some sort of political power I would try my best to create a dictatorship. (Me being the dictator, of course.) My goals would be to help everyone. At least in this system, beauracracy in practice wouldn't hinder things that needed to be set straight.
Of course, I then run an even higher risk of being assassinated and whatnot, and should any faithful supporters fail to secure power of our ideals, the country which I ruled with common sense – and hence, justice – would be in turmoil.
One-term dictatorships with the purpose of creating a new democratic government that works better than the previous would then seem to be the best option for the people.
Who wants to help me come into power?
I suppose you want to know some of my ideals first. Here's a short and sweet set:
—All drugs would be made legal and distributed through governmental agencies so as to keep the prices lower than illegal dealers, which in turns cuts down drastically in gang and mafia activity while stopping the idiotic incarceratoin of people for possessing half a gram of cocaine, among other things.
In case of violent retaliation by mobsters, the army would come in and destroy them.
—Prostitution will be made legal. All brothels would require government licenses. All hookers would have to submit to monthly disease checks.
—Tax loopholes will be eliminated. Tax code will be rewritten. The rich will not have it so easy.
That's good enough to fix a lot of any country's problems, right?
Length – 2:41; listen (3.1 megs)
Music322: Final project incorporating synthesis and digital concrete. The synth work was lax, so I tried my best (through concrete techniques) to get my synth sequence a bit more interesting. More ACiD mastering.
The premise behind this piece is that a couple is at a Chinese restaurant, reading fortunes that turn ackward and dark. Their surroundings change to reflect this. Roughly speaking.
This will be the last time for many years that I see a lot of people, maybe even for the rest of my life. This might even apply to my close friends (because I have a habit of losing touch with people when they're not around).
Despite my reservations about playing ‘Conglomerating Liaisons’ for class, I – and the rest of the class – had a good dose of laughter when Dr. Dre's ‘Lyrical Gangbang’ started playing seconds later. The only reason I put it on the disc was to keep some ‘space’ between projects 3 and 2.
Good thing I actually went to class, though. Scott finally revealed to us (through a compilation disc) some of the ads he's worked on. He is in some way responsible for the music of the following: Disney Cruise Land; '70s ABC network thingy; Chevrolet Avalanche; Incredible Edible Egg (not Zach Browning as I once thought); American Airlines; Dove Nutrient body lotion; Nicoderm CQ; ‘Hondas are in bloom’; Slamball.net. That doesn't mean he's done all variations on commercials for those items, but he's done at least one.
Typography today should be my last class ever, but it's not. I hate my major.
So, I'm wondering if anyone has had a similar dream:
You're dreaming (yes, a dream within a dream) of walking down a familiar but unknown street as a red headed girl on the other side stares at you. You look up and see black, ominous clouds forming as if being fueled from volcanoes. In a flash of urgency, you start to run home because, paying no attention to Weather.com, you left home without an umbrella. And as you're running towards safety, hundreds of flocks of birds start to clutter the sky, travelling in all directions. They're flying towards safety too, you think, but then they gather into formations. They're flying down to street level, shooting past your skin. In the distance now they're flying in circles in a tight formation. A funnel is forming from the countless bodies, and the tip of the funnel reaches out to you. In a second the birds are circling around yout, orbitting around your body at tremendous speeds, the vacuum created by the motion lifting you into the air. You're carried off into the whirlwind despite an effort to break free, and as your body is thrashed around you wake up to finally escape.
Anyone?
And what constitutes a nightmare? I claim that I haven't had one since I was seven, and that's only because it was the last time I woke up crying and scared. Maybe I've had several more throughout the years but never counted them as such being I never woke up so startled?
…my room is ten-plus degrees hotter than the hallway and living room. Possibilities may also include wind blowing east (through the balcony screen door) and not north (my window).
Hence, starting my day at 4 with itchy, burning eyes.
And I miss Bangladesh. Well, pieces of it.
I can't say for certain why I'm at ease acting like an idiot around Derek and Dave and Neil and such, but that's the way it has to be, I guess. Such wacky good times back and forth tom as well as in, Lonestar (playing paper football with a chunk of bread).
Happy birthday Derek. My stomach will burst.
(According to Nick, Propecia is generally covered by insurance. Which means I could've had a full head of hair this entire year. I wouldn't have cut it short or shaved it. It'd be…much longer than it is now. No fair.)
It's here! My own copy; no longer do I have to go to Borders to browse through this neat book.
Yes, the type is too small for extended periods of reading, but it's small enough to not steal the spotlight from the showcased designs. Looking. Eye candy.
Tracking packages through UPS is just an added bonus. It's nice to know where your package is or en route to, and reaffirms the usefulness of technology for moral purposes. [?]
Whatever.
Blinding light through half-closed blinds and a mighty rumble and roar.
Less than six hours of sleep. It's apparently been ideal three times this week now.
The apartment is empty, and there's nothing for breakfast. But the sun is bright.
