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ah!
I'm really bored around here… I wonder if it's too late to take a year off? At least I can be bored at home watching television and doing yard work. We don't get cable in the apartment.
My goal for Sunday or Monday is to paint my room the color of this site: predominant orange and white, with a grey closet? I'm also going to make a stencil of my logo and paint it on the wall above the computer desk. This could be a personal branding project. I want to make business cards, too. And maybe a t-shirt. And stationary? I don't get to be full of myself often enough.
Regardless, I don't have money to get any sort of matching furniture, or to even pay next month's rent. So the whole thing could just be a waste. At least the walls wouldn't be so drab and dirty if I did paint…
When will IBM PC browsers incorporate better text rendering? Sigh.
Yeah, someone take me away.
Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind a life of drumming and fishing right now. Or watching people go by from the roof of my grandma's apartment building.
(Ryan, could you give me a project suggestion or two for exploring typography that would span the entire semester?)
I went to my computer organization class, then promptly left a minute later, before the class officially started.
Hey, I have breakfast to eat with Andrew and Derek. Priorities can be important. That is the nature of prioritizing.
My right foot is messed up. It's painful when I walk. And if it persists, I probably should go to the doctor to get it X-rayed.
This may have stemmed from my long walk Monday night in flip-flops, which definitely worsened yesterday. I just hope it isn't a stress fracture, but it's likely since I've been having pains here and there much of the summer.
And more minor bad news to start off this first day of class, which I'll skip.
I skipped my 8 AM.
Clutch was at The Canopy on Saturday. I could've gone to the show! Goddammit it all. Why did I have to find out today?
Here we go. Half fun, half foe.
Individual Graphic Design Problems [3 hours]
0900–1150; Fri
Advanced typography, or something thereabouts.
Advanced Studio Techniques [1 hr]
1500–1550; Thu (plus 4 hour studio)
Music, not visual arts.
Intro to Narrative Writing [3 hr]
0930–1045; Mon, Wed
Computer System Organization [3 hr]
0930–1045; Tue, Thu
Combinatorial Algorithms [3 hr]
1230–1345; Tue, Thu
My one true hate.
Intro to Electric/Electronic Circuits [4 hr]
0800–0850; Mon, Wed, Fri
1800–1950; Tue
If I have to drop a class or two, they will be music and writing.
I have the best voicemail greeting ever. Just call {two 1 seven 69 one 2 eight 2 zero}.
Last night was hot. And by hot, I mean waking up every 30 minutes with sweat forming and a feeling of uncomfort spreading.
And even though I had the window open as far as it would go, no good came out of it. I am getting paranoid about these windows, though. This is the first time we've lived on the first floor (excluding the Oregon house) and I started thinking about how someone is going to come one of these nights and either spy on me or assault & rob me in my sleep.
The air conditioner doesn't seem to work, either, so closed windows isn't an option at the moment.
But the room is cooled down now. You'd figure it to be colder when there isn't any sun.
I'm tempted to take a walk and make use of the nice morning. But then I'll eventually work up a sweat, which defeats the purpose of enjoying the cool air, so I'll sit in my room.
There's a unicorn shower curtain – complete with rainbows and other whimsical things – in our bathroom.
The McDonald's in the Union doesn't have apple pies or sundaes, forcing me to get lunch instead of breakfast. But I saw what Bill Dee Williams would look like if he was a washed up actor in the service industry.
The line of cars waiting to empty their contents into ISR is also absurd.
One bed sheet split between the bed and my body. It required some skill to keep my body partially covered throughout the night. Back hurts from it now.
Time to start making a list.
Toby and I just found out Wesley Willis died on Thursday. So sad. He was an interesting character. I should've headbutted him when he asked me…
I am back on campus. It feels very… like I'm back in Urbana. Like sophomore year? We're with CPM again. The highlight so far is that I did some experimenting with the built-in network connections in the wall and, with no effort at all, I have access. It's a trial thing. If this stays fast, perhaps we'll stay with these folks.
I'm typing from my bed. The spacing between the bed and the desk sucks, and the only chair that fits in between (not my comfy one, unfortunately) is not tall enough for me to type normally or comfortably. This setup will take some getting used to. And there's Derek's scanner sitting atop an overturned Tupperware container (a large one, mind you).
The drawers on the desk are terrible. It's ghetto, but not 806 Oregon ghetto. Thank God.
This world is a transplant. It'll be fun – to a point – to yell at and with Toby. And have Andrew barge in drunk trying to crawl into bed with me. Paul and Jakob are next door, which adds that wildcard element to things.
Carpal tunnel by December. I'll keep you informed.
If anyone out there can get their mitts on all the St. Ides [malt liquor] commercials from the mid '90s, get at me. Seriously. If you've got high-quality audio (video would also be nice) then just leave a comment. We'll discuss repayment through email.
And if you've never seen any of them, that is a tragedy. It's good stuff.
Gulp of gorgeous morning air – 57° with wind. Begin round three of painting.
heard about a lot of sicc shit in the blocc so
i stay locc to the brain and remain incognito with my
20-sack of the bomb
money back guaranteed if you that shit and don't wanna kill your mom
…
40
ounces
and
chronic,
dice
stay high,
i stay high muthafucka
Friday night it is, and not a damn thing packed and ready for tomorrow. Here is how my day played out.
In the morning, my brother and I got out of bed earlier than usual (him moreso than me) to start re-painting the deck; headache followed from the waking hours. 10:45 rolled around and I got ready for lunch.
In the afternoon, I ate lunch with my old supervisors and an old coworker. We went to a restaurant that did not accept credit cards – and I had no cash – so I embarassingly asked if one of the supervisors could cover me. (They have payed for many of my lunches the few times I've gone with them; I intend to buy them lunch over winter break.) It was good to catch up with them. I ate much of my double cheeseburger without savoring – wasteful.
Back home it was. Lingering headache. Caught up on this morning's taped Charmed. I wanted to pack, but found myself waiting around for the evening showing of Charmed.
In the evening, my brother and I finished most of the deck (minus the outside). Brotherly chitchat ensued throughout the day, ranging from the mainly humorous and random to the somewhat serious.
We got around to the subject of tribal people in Bangladesh (something about Buddhism and animism), and how we should research them more. I mentioned that it would be cool if he majored in anthropology and linguistics. Maybe I'll do something similar after that godforsaken computer science degree is in my hand? The tribal folk are going to be killed off by the other Bengalis, and I have a feeling not enough studying has bee done (or allowed) on these people and their culture and language. That isn't good.
Grand finale clean-up routine: I talked fairly loud with a ‘black’ accent while washing the paint brushes, talking about how I paid $5 for one and whatnot, making my brother laugh in the process. The neighbors to our right turned on their backyard light a few moments later, making us think they could hear me. So I shut up. The lights went off after a minute. Hasan says they probably thought black folks were actually in the backyard. We laugh in agreement.
I'm going to miss home. Not ready or looking forward to classes, or packing.
The first wireless email I wrote – to myself – just moments ago:
From: 21x6xx2820 <xx7x91xxxx@mobile.mycingular.com>
To: shahid@uiuc.edu
Subject: Pooping
X-Mailer: N-Plex Mobile 3.1(17)
Date: Thu, 21 Aug 2003 09:40:57 -0500
Hello poopyface. Tubgirl.com
--
Mobile Email from a Cingular Wireless Customer
http://www.cingular.com
I will not be one of those people that walk down the sidewalks and streets with a cellphone in my hand or to my ear. It's one of the few promises to myself I'm likely to keep.
Ooh, and I just had a text message conversation with Andrew. I don't know how he figured out it was me with the first message, though.
I had a strange sequence of dreams last night, long overdue.
In the predominant dream, the following things happened:
—I rode on an unpainted steel boat-tank (not an Amphibian) through a highway infested with smoke from war in the surrounding lands
—there was an offramp that led to a large, empty room with spherical walls, and rows and columns of rings from Sonic the Hedgehog, complete with sounds if I drove up to collect them
—I gambled and made $650, and felt guilty for it; can't remember why
—a lady was tell me something about love, and I was trying to hide my winnings
—Andrew and I were at some Socialist gathering – a Socialist film festival, actually – and one of the films was about Pepe le Pue. Another was about some old actor & actress couple. Derek was there, then left, without saying a word to us, and we were upset about that. There was an announcement to have everyone that attended my high school stand up – a lot of people did, and I didn't recognize any of them
That last segment might've been a separate dream. I was at a Socialist gathering earlier, but it was by myself, and very few other people attended.
In the last dream early this morning, I was playing videogames with Ryan, then went upstairs and worked on a Jell-o sculpture of sorts. It was made in a large aquarium, and I managed to create a colorful scene from Arkanoid, complete with the paddle and ball and blocks. My mom was proud of me, I think.
There's another dream coming to mind, about staying in this strange place built with tunnels. I had to go to the bottom level to pee. And I was staying with people in the top level or something. Kind of a barebones, ghettoish place. But this dream happened several weeks ago.
I can't, for the life of me, make eye contact with cute strangers. And I now have Clutch's Clutch and Aphex Twin's Drukqs, courtesy of Columbia House. Had to help my brother fulfill his obligation. I couldn't find anything other than Clutch that I wanted, so I settled with the Twin.
Oh, and Menard's is a shabby place. Lowe's seems so much warmer. That is all. You'll never be tight like that.
Sam's Wholesale Club does not have Tap-lights. They do, however, have a 5-pack of ink cartridges for Canon i-550s (CMY and 2K) that save the user $25 off five individual purchases. And they have cellphones. And I have a cellphone because of them. (Well, Dad is the reason.)
Besides my Nokia manual, there are several things I've noticed (a book on public health, the Insight logotype, and in-store Sears signs among them) that are using Rotis Sans. Is there a sudden surge in its use, or has it always had this sort of ‘popularity’ and only now do I notice it because I can identify it? I found out about it through my typography class (one of several to choose from for a starting assignment) and took to it quite readily – it has the cutest lowercase ‘e’ and ‘c’, but those aren't my only reasons for liking it. Gill Sans is on the sideline.
Now I feel like I'm following a trend, even though I'm doing this on my own accord – I am ignorant of what's going on in the design world. My point? My use of Rotis is trend-free. Guaranteed.
Bombings anew in Baghdad. A UN building. And they're eulogizing some UN envoy. Isn't that a waste of time? Not that the news covers a wide variety of stories with fairness and relevance in mind.
There's something about Rod Blagojevich that I absolutely distrust… I don't like him at all. My dad has a good theory on why he's not moving down to Springfield: his wife has a real estate business in Chicago, and now that she's the first lady, her business will most likely get even more bids and whatnot. Favors. Bribes. Business is more lucrative in Chicago. You know the deal.
Evil. Liars.
(The Mars Volta could mean ‘The Disfigured Turn’.)
Procrastination is hitting me hard this week. On top of work there's stripping & staining the deck (which my dad just had to a wait a week before I left to do) and packing. And then more work and getting a good start on a project I promised to do for my music professor.
Andy is dead, and I'm near tears as Prue cries.
I'm going to Sam's today to look for a cellphone. I can share my parents' plan for $10 more a month. Yay? Tap-light search will follow.
