Now that classes are at an after-exam lull, it almost seems surreal that there's no impending doom to worry about. Yet. No big assignments handed out, only one more exam before finals…just keeping busy with my hands. (No. Hush.)
I don't like this at all. Something terrible is waiting to happen.
I should never again go to sleep bed before 10:30. It feels so unnatural. Waking up without any sun is the punishment I get.
The lightbulb to my desk lamp died, too, so my lowly lit room is even more lowly lit. I am in dire need of direct lighting.
This journal needs to die. Must try something different in nature.
Runners who run funny are inherently funny people.
I've finally gotten myself to put all the albums I've downloaded from Soulseek and haven't yet listened to in a new playlist. I'm 158 songs into the 1001 songs waiting. (A few more albums are on the way as I type.)
My love for hip-hop is being rekindled. It's like a fifteen year old marriage where I remember that it was the underlying hypnosis and rhymes that grabbed me, that I took for granted.
At the expense of all other genres prior to college, but, whatever. It was most accessible to me, and they actually played and promoted good artists back in the day. And my brain hasn't had any musically induced backlashes for being ‘close-minded’ for many years.
Actually, I shouldn't say that it's being rekindled. There's a renewed interest in finding new [read: unfamiliar] artists, something that I haven't done for many years. I've just been fed up with how hip-hop is being pushed as some shallow party-thug-bullshit music, mixed with being too lazy to scout for talent, mixed with becoming obsessed enough with certain songs and albums that listening to other things was a chore.
So yeah, Cannibal Ox and Aesop Rock and A Tribe Called Quest and Anti-Pop Consortium have been pleasuring my ears.
On a sidenote, I'm really not feeling Sigur Ros or Dream Theater. Clifford Gilberto gets two thumbs up, even if he reminds me of Squarepusher.
I need money for a vacation.
Blah. Fuck it.
I'm having a very bad day as far as self-esteem. All past and present failures are just building on top of each other. And I feel trapped. And I want to give up on this whole breathing thing.
Knitting is the only thing that's keeping me from absolutely burying myself in this mood.
Comet wasn't strong enough, so it's no longer a part of me. No longer can it be be blue. I have plenty of blue inside.
There seemed to be swarms of people everywhere today. And I'm trying to think of the last time I walked around during the peak hours of the afternoon, but nothing is coming up. So maybe it's normal.
Bogart's almost confused me into thinking they were closed until a guy walked into the third unbarricaded door, which I didn't see initially.
I have some incense now, and baby oil and expensive razors (which I need to steal again from Meijer; last time I stole them was a year ago). I'm bleaching my hair with Comet. I twice made a fool out of myself this morning. I'm ready to move.
Mike Hathaway also sucks elephant ass.
InDesign has a feature where I can move anchor points or objects by typing in exact coordinates. For the longest time, I was wondering why Illustrator didn't have such a thing, and it pissed me off.
Then today, while trying to draw a structure in Illustrator I'd scribbled upon the back of my left hand before this morning's midterm, I found the damn toolbar with those options. It's been there all along. I just didn't think of clicking its tab.
Two years. Stupid.
And I can no longer wear contacts while using the computer. Stupid eyes.
I just let out a scream that'd put Thursday to shame, and I still can't clear the dregs.
I'm dying tomorrow night, or at least making a trip to the hospital. Not that I can afford getting my stomach pumped, but whatever.
Green. Wednesday will be a true blue.
Asma also taught me to knit and purl today. She rocks.
If we consider the epoch to be January 15, 2003, this is a ten month elapsation:
![pretty [thinning] hair](/88/resource/headshave_before.jpg)
Forty-five minutes of careful work can unmake ancient things, then:
I haven't named the patch of hair yet, but I do have the following real-life ‘testimonials’:
Asma – initially couldn't look at me unless I had my beanie on.
Dan – ‘I think you're my new idol’.
Tomorrow, Asma will help me dye it. Stay tuned.
Over the course of hunan beef and egg drop soup at Empire, I noticed a man and his son a few tables over talking, sharing food, having a good time. His son, of course, looks to be three or four years old. And seems like a smart kid. And his dad was conversing with him as if his son was much older, not in that authoritative manner, but just as, peers I guess? I dunno.
Regardless, I felt happy for that guy and wished that I had children of my own, and that I'd raise them right and hopefully steer them clear of taking on a lot of my personality traits (i.e. – they'd be communicative with me).
Is it wrong for me to actually want kids at this point in my life?
Whatever. I'll be a good father, if nothing else.
Right now, I feel a tremendous amount of freedom. I did something good for myself.
Really, I'd like to know. The ESPN live ticker console didn't exactly show live action. Poor Cubs.
Theorem 1 Kaiser is shy; this is why he has trouble meeting new people, or why he prefers to avoid socializing, thus remaining a recluse [of sorts].
This is partly true. The other part is that I don't like to subject people to me. I am boring, so I try to save people from spending time with me. Which is why I duck out of many things.
Don't forget to put that down in your Kaiser reference manual.
Well.
I went to exercise today, after a two-point-five-month hiatus. It was a good time walking back, legs all rubbery and requiring the utmost control to not stagger along Springfield Ave. And it was along the walk back home that I got splashed by a bus. Luckily, I was holding my jacket on the other side, away from traffic.
There's something that always bugs me if I'm ever in the gym: bad form. True, the guy might be lifting heavy weights, but he looks like a jackass doing it. It's really not that hard to exercise some physical grace. Quit glancing to your left and right during pulldowns.
And why is it that I seem to be the only person to ever do full squats? I am that good, perhaps. And equally weak. Someday I'll get back to where I was before coming to college.
Further on on the annoying habits of people, I went to see Death Cab for Cutie at The High Dive on Sunday (which was a good show), and there were these two guys that were carrying on a conversation behind me for the longest time. What the hell would you do that for? You paid $15 to see a band play, presumably, and yet you're not paying attention to them. At all. Idiots.
Ah well. The past couple of days have been good, moodwise. It might partially be that I'm going outside more often. I finished Area 88, which was all good. The ending wasn't so good though. And I'm eagerly awaiting the fourth season of The Sopranos to be released.
And the cs373 exam was pushed back an entire week, so that's one less noose tightened at the moment.
Getting myself to do schoolwork is hard. Organizing the +4 gigs of MP3s from Soulseek is a far more pressing matter. Not that I'll get around to all the songs I've downloaded for many months, but still, an orderly harddrive makes for a sane brain. Something.
I love Soulseek, beautiful days, and those nearest and dearest to me (though I may be a drab, uncommunicative son/brother/friend, which is why this statement is being made).
Songs involving ghosts are addicting. Camptown ladies never sang all the doo dah day, apparently.
llama: 2003 october 09
escoras cantas:
01 ‘ghosts’ – shellac
02 ‘cream of gold’ – pavement
03 ‘another morning stoner’ – …the trail of dead
04 ‘electric relaxation’ – a tribe called quest
05 ‘you give me something’ – jamiroquai
06 ‘superstarr pt. 0’ – k-os
07 ‘critical’ – zion i, planet asia
08 ‘air conditions’ – q and not u
09 ‘the ghost of stephen foster’ – squirrel nut zippers
10 ‘lost in though’ – funkdoobiest
11 ‘vendetta’ – inspectah deck
12 ‘kill my landlord’ – the coup
13 ‘fuck the pain away’ – peaches
14 ‘i need drugs’ – necro
15 ‘congestion’ – grouch
16 ‘pinate oblangata’ – dianogah
17 ‘hands away’ – interpol
18 ‘land of immortals’ – rhapsody
sabiduría para la día: everyone should be able to walk around naked, and instead of seeing bodies, they see a soul, organized into various areas of human disposition. they will also be color-coded to determine goodness.
If this was the homework, to doodle instead of solving vague or abstract problems, I would be ecstatic.
Alas, what can you do when your brain won't think analytically?
Next time, maybe. You're being a crazy freak right now, though.
There's too much negativity surrounding me. What was it that cleans your system out completely? You're supposed to drink it before certain medical procedures? It comes down to being a super laxative.