I hate fucking female hormones. There are few things as pathetic as a woman hyped up on pre-menstruational shit, crabby as all hell and moody to boot. Though I don't normally mind the moodiness—it's not like I'm all sunshine and smiles on most days, anyway. But the being angry at the world thing just isn't cool, particularly when I know for a fact that there is pretty much no reason for it beyond hormones latching on to school stress as an excuse. Pathetic, I say.
I'm sleepy and I have to get up earlyish tomorrow... but I want Trillian to work and I want to play some Civ and I want to cuddle with Jim on the couch and I want to read my book and I want to get Avant Go up (my god, I synched my Visor tonight for the first time since July 31, 2000) and I want to find some page that'll allow me to see how a given URL's page renders in another platform's browser, because that'd be sweet. But mostly I don't want to go to the dentist tomorrow at 10 am. Blah.
Hrm. I just realized that I have two papers due next week, of about 5 pages each (eek).
Okay, I found out that one of them isn't due till the next Monday. That's not a whole lot better, but it is an extra weekend. I'll take an extra weekend where I can get it. I was thinking the other day about the effort I'm putting out this quarter—I'm kinda sloughing along, pulling the bare minimum weight to shoot for 3.0+ grades. The only thing is, the amount of effort to just slack off when I'm taking four classes is still exponentially more than the effort required to really apply myself to two or three. I don't know what it is about going over the magic 15 credit limit... but once you hit that little token, things just, well, suck.
Oh, and I turned in my grad school application today. I'm like... "please love me."
The not-unforeseen downside to having a Windows box in my room : I'm tempted right now to play a little Civ... rather than, you know, SLEEPING.
1:40 is far too late of a time to be finally getting to sleep when one is waking up at 7 am the next morning. Sigh.
Not much to say. I spent a lot of the day rebooting the new computer after updating one piece or another. I had dinner with my dad and brother and fixed Dad's computer problems. Watched SLC Punk. Going to bed now. Whoo.
Week done. New computer put together, but I'm not going to turn it on until the morning—I want to actually try to get some sleep tonight, and playing with the software end of a new toy isn't the best way to accomplish that goal.
Fucking insomnia. I've not gotten a good night's sleep in the last three. Last night I tossed and turned from midnight (when I got in bed with half a tab of melatonex) until around 4:30 (definitely past 3:20, because that's when I got myself up and mixed my drugs... no benadryl in the house, but I was hoping sudafed would help). And then I drug myself out of bed at 7:30 am to teach an HTML workshop... only to be disrespected by a fucking DANCE 102 CLASS whose professor has decided he wants them to turn in their final paper in A WEBPAGE. What the fuck. It's 8 o' fucking clock and if I had alcohol I'd drug myself up with that because I probably won't be able to sleep, but either way, I'm going to fucking bed.
I think I won't have a lot to say until after my midterm on Thursday. Maybe not until after I turn in the grad school app after the weekend. Guh. Can we say too much stress? And they decided to not offer the position I interviewed for, and are replacing it with a gay "web team" (sorry Patrick, but that's really the only word that comes to mind... slap me at your convenience) pile of poo where they just give everyone who applied a piddly 6-10 hour a week committee post. Which means A) that it won't really be worth a graduate assistantship, B) I'll still have to work desk to make up hours and C) that I get ZERO recognition of anything. Why did I even bother? They probably can't even give me a fucking pay raise because I'll still be "student staff." I think I'm really more upset about the recognition thing. It would have been pretty nice to have them say "damn, you're cool." But no. They said "you're about as cool, as, oh, everyone else who works here. No props."
Seattle had the good grace today to shine sunlight through the rain, a spring joy dearly appreciated.
I'm not certain whether to be triumphant or depressed about the fact that I never even got around to getting out of my bathrobe today. It's not as if I wasn't doing anythng with my time; laundry and css-ization of webpage got finished up, I settled on which classes I'll take as a grad student, and it is somewhat of an indulgent pleasure to have all that and the cake of my bathrobe, too. On the other hand, decisions do not applications turn in, and I haven't taken a look yet at the material for my tear-inducing midterm on Thursday night, nor have I done my Ling homework due on Tuesday, nor have I studied the kanji to be tested on Wednesday, nor any other of the myriad things that need to be done before work tomorrow. Stupid webpage binges.
(rub eyes) Late night. Only to find out how dreadful some of the stuff I write looks in Windows. Why I'm no longer allowed by the HTML+Windows gods to fucking set a font-size spec and have it respected, I do not know. Looks good in Mozilla and NS on Linux... like ass in Mozilla and IE on a Windows machine. ARGH. I have a request to make. Anyone who is reading this, if you've got a moment, do me a favor. Go here (it has several pictures, and will take a minute or two to load, sorry). Take a screenshot of the page at the top, and at the piece of the screen where the triad of living room pictures are arranged. Zip up the two shots and mail them to me, and include what browser you're using on what platform.
A quite wasted day; felt sick and slept in, played some games, ordered a new computer. But other than that, I feel completely limp. Blah.
I could never be a true, full-time cynic. There's just something about a sunny morning that screams uncontrollably for peppy pop songs, and how can you be down on the world when your head is bouncing from side to side with a smile on your face? It's damn hard, I posit.
Joy and rapture, Gimp now remembers which windows were open and where when you start it up. I swear to god, just that is almost worth all the other crap. But I found out the terminal thing is a windowmaker bug. Sigh. They said to get a developer release or wait. Sniffle.
Fonts? Happy. Clock? Fixed. Mozilla? Still scrolling icky (buggy). File manager? Neither one works. Rxvt? All fixed except it won't do multiple instances between sessions either. It does boot. Generally, I'm not displeased. I wonder what it is, though, about upgrading my machine that makes me desire electronica. I've been more in a mood for techno the last two days than I have been in months.
Upgrading to 7.2. May god have mercy on my soul.
Well. Fonts? Unhappy. Clock? Spazzed out. Mozilla? Scrolling icky. File manager? Nautilus sucks, can't remember what the other one is called. Rxvt? Spazzes when I try to log into Dante. XTerm? Kew except the windowmanager only keeps one window remembered between sessions (as opposed to however many rxvts I had open last). But hey, it boots.
I seem to be in quite the habit of forgetting to write on Friday nights; this time, though, I was just asleep rather than doing anything fun. I can't believe I slept for five hours on Friday evening, woke up, and then slept again until this morning... just a little too much of a weird schedule for me to have felt "all right" today. I spent my whole day today in a flipflop between hyper and lethargic. That plus not being the most pleased I could be with our new lamp (it turned out to be flourescent, which equals hurts-Jen's-head) has put me in a foul mood—teach me to toss a box/reciept before testing something. Perhaps I'll take it home and switch it with the one in my room at my parents' place. Hrm.
Ah. It's nice to have the creative juices flow, if only in spurts and only for an hour or so.
Time to take a short break from thinking in another language about someone terribly dull, and instead try to compose my thoughts for my paper in my native tongue. The problem, of course, being that even in English, I just don't have that much to say about the guy. Serves me right for delaying until the very last minute to even pick someone to write about, though in my defense, I thought I had plenty of information before I discovered that part of the paper is supposed to include some relevant "episode" from his life that shows what sort of person he was. I've got lots of facts and the sort, but precious little in the anecdotal category. Sigh.
Eric Brown is my hero. In the select group of "my favorite chemistry TAs" (as opposed to the "right bastard TAs"), he's held a special place in my heart ever since two certain quarters of organic chemistry where I idolized him nearly as much as Mr. Edgerton. His being my TA for 415, I thought, would be appreciated merely for the fact of having a TA whose instructions I understand and whose counsel I trust... how was I to know that he'd stand up for me so strongly against Borden-the-constant-talker-past-the-end-of-class?
(heh) Though I must admit that part of why I'm so happy is his (very) sympathetic grading on my homework so far. I either know more about what I'm doing than I think, or I just happen to be good at writing answers the way he wants them, or there's holdover from me being a favored student in a previous class. I be not complaining—I need all the sympathy I can get in all of my classes this quarter. Thank heaven for Eric, Nakaone-sensei, and Ohta-sensei's wife all liking me; that's 3 out of 4. I'm not ashamed to get a GPA boost from a teacher's esteem—it doesn't make me try any less hard. The icing on the cake, if you will.
Another week of roleplaying gone by... I'd missed it so. Even with a silly game like Suzerain, just the synergy of some of my favorite friend's minds coming together to solve problems is something beautiful to be a part of. Puzzling, fighting, blowing shit up, and joking around... great stuff. I sit around my apartment staring at a computer screen too much of my free time, and when I do go out, it's usually with the same group of friends. Being around Jase's place again and the wide variety of floaters-through is, in its own spastic way, like a vacation.
Sometimes I wonder if Jim realizes how much it speaks about how I think about him that I'm willing to get drunk with him.
I spent much of today with several EEPers, something which would have been rather frightening and annoying had Bryan not been there. I mean, I know Katrina and all that (which is why I was at her b-day dinner), but Bryan's just got a couple years of acquaintance plus a general above-average-for-an-EEPer maturity on his side. I did get to play Scattergories and two different card games—it was rather funny to think that I haven't played games with my friends on a regular basis in years (if you discount roleplaying, and Cindy always getting us to play games a few summers back). I can't believe that Cindy/Ian/Jim living together was two years ago—that means that Jim and I are coming up on two years of dating. Boggle.
Why am I so angry? It was a change in plans that would have been transparent to me if I hadn't called him. Why should I even care? But here I am, skipping out on the showing because I was too pissed off to sit still, walking around with a locked jaw and a furrow in my forehead. And I can't even define why I'm angry—he didn't do anything wrong that I can tell. I'm just angry angry angry. Perhaps I just needed an outlet for all the tension that's been building up, and a tiny transgression by poor Jim has labelled him to recieve it. Which isn't very fair, and that makes me even more angry, though at myself rather than him. Either way, I'm sitting at home debating whether to call him and tell him I'm mad at him, or sit and stew and be angry until he calls wondering why I haven't shown up around 9:30 or so. Neither option is very palatable, seeing as I really am not in the mood to be the one reaching out to him, but I'm just going to get madder and madder the more time goes on, so waiting three odd hours (or more if he doesn't bother to call) isn't a great idea either. Damnit.