Stress

I feel like too little butter stretched over too much bread.

The good news is that I can probably go study abroad this summer in Germany. That way I can go abroad, which is always nice, and knock out my last two Foreign Language classes in one summer school session.

If I did that I would have Maymester free to do a communication credit and the Summer II session free so that I could take Elementary Statistics at NCTC.

Graduation is so close but so far away.

But first this semester:

SAI Recital
SAI Initiation
Finish poster project in Counseling
Interview two counselors in the community and write a paper about it for Counseling
Keep up with studying German, reading for Psychology of Sexuality, Quantitative Methods, Psychology II, and homework for German and Quantitative Methods.
Keep losing weight.
Keep up with housework and chores.
Get Out The Vote on UNT campus.
Plan for Obamanite.
Work enough every week to feed myself.
Go to class.

I really don't understand how people keep their sanity if they work, go to school, and have kids. It completely blows my mind.

Things not to do in the lab

Answer the question "Mac or PC" with "I don't care," and then come back 10 seconds after I check you into a Mac and ask for a PC. Dumb.

Giggle as you try to smuggle a can of Dr. Pepper into the lab. I can see you asshole. I'm not retarded, but you obviously are.

Stare at my ass while I'm fixing your computer.

Stare at my boobs while I'm checking you into a computer.

Give me sass when I tell you to get out of the classroom after your class is over.

Act like you're special because you're a senior CommDesign major or Interior Design major. Or whatever major because you aren't special, period.

Get pissed when there is a line for the CommDesign plotters, insist that you be switched to the Interior Design plotters, throw a hissy fit to my boss when we don't let you break the rules, have him tell you that you can use then, AND THEN decide that, yes, they're shitty, that's why you get better ones, and try to get to the front of the line for the CommDesign plotter because you're "in a hurry."

Mock lab patrons to their face if you are an employee of the lab. You're supposed to do that behind their backs. Duh.

Print word documents not containing color pictures on the color printer, and then complain when your ink is dark purple.

Leave without telling us which computer you were using and then get pissed when we yell after you to tell us whether you were checking out or taking a break

Raise your hand when you need attention during a busy time, without vocalizing your need for assistance and you are out of our direct line of sight. Of course we won't see you.

Whispering while the printer behind the desk is churning out pages as loudly as it can. We can't here you back here.

Move to a different computer, without telling us, when your computer has an issue or *gasp* it's an iMac on the formerly PC side of the classroom.

Stay 15 minutes after closing, then after I politely ask you to get out, and that I have to be back at 7:30 AM to open, say "Well I have to be up earlier than that." and then leave in a huff without even thanking me for the extra time and my loss of sleep. Rude.

Having No Social Life is Taking It's Toll

I think I'm losing it. I talk to random people, and feel satisfied for a brief time.

I feel like a Sim, with a bar for "Social" floating over my head. I need one of these.

Inward Compulsion

I've been really striving to be a more honest, better person lately.

Little things:

Like not snagging a Mac remote from work (I want one for my iPod dock, turns out I wouldn't have even been able to use it with my version of iPod, so much the better) or a screen cloth

Waking up in time for work and getting there early

Actually working dilligently in the lab, even when my lab partner is goofing off

After realizing that I left work early accidentally, I went back, even though I was stressed out and just wanted to get the hell out of there

I was going to skip class the other day. I stayed up too late last night and almost fell back into my old ways. I was totally going to crash and sleep through class, and also skip SAI. I didn't. I went to class, and I'm glad that I did. It wasn't really a conscious decision to change my mind, I just got up, made a quick dinner and was on my way.

On the way back from class I also didn't stop into a restaurant and have a bite to eat, even though it was oh-so-tempting.

Tuesday Morning in the Lab

Tuesday morning I was minding my own business, checking people in and out of the lab, helping them print, dealing with the fact that Mac OSX is down on the "Mac" side of the room and trying to let biatchy comments from whiny Comm Design majors roll off my back, when out of the blue someone did something that made me question humanity.

Let me put this into context. I like people. Alot. This is why I took the job at the computer lab. I like people and I like computers. Yay! Right? Not so much. As much as I used to biatch at Irish Sean for hating people while he worked at Exxon I'm starting to feel his pain. I had been out of the service industry for the past few years. I remember how asinine the people were at Target, and for some strange crackballed reason I thought that since I was dealing with college students that they would be able to do simple things on the computer. Not so much.

This guy comes in and when asked the usual question "Mac or Pc?" his reply was "Uh, a regular computer I guess. I don't even know what a Mac is. I just want to print something." I have learned in the past few weeks that "I want to use a relgular computer" is a good cue for me to realize that they don't know what the hell they're doing with computers or just life in general.

He comes back after about 30 seconds with a question. "Are the flash drive hole thingies not working on these computers? I peeled the black tape over the hole in the front to stick my memory stick into. Why won't it work?"
Assuming that he means "USB port" instead of "Durr, durr, durr! I'm retarded!" I say, "Yes, the USB drives in the back of the computer work."
"Yeah. I peeled that black tape off."

I'm starting to get really annoyed at this point because there is a very good reason we put black electrical tape on the USB drives on the front of those computers: they don't work. We also have a nice little slip of paper conveniently saying "Thumb Drives can be inserted into the BACK of the computer." This cute little piece of paper is lovingly taped RIGHT OVER THE USB DRIVE IN QUESTION. People often ignore it. This is one of the many reasons that I hate them.

I say, "Yes, there is a sign posted saying that the 'hole' won't work. You'll have to use the back of the computer."
"I peeled the tape off."
"The tape is there for a reason. Use the back of the computer."
Blank stare.

At this point my lab monitor cohort, Dave, tries to help. "Look on the back of the computer," he says, "you can plug your thumb drive into that."
"What?"
"The back of the computer," the remarkably patient Dave said while indicating with his hands the "front" of the computer and the "back of the computer.
"What's that?"
"The back of the computer," Dave says beginning to be irritated. At this point people are staring at us.
"I don't know what you mean. You'll have to show me."
"Okay, let's go," says Dave.

They walk over to the computer. Dave points at the back of the computer and only receives a blank stare in return. Dave shows him where to put his thumb drive.

Dave returns, supressing a giggle, he says, "I still don't think he knows what the hell just happened." Usually Dave is pretty short with the kids that get up to the dumbassery in the lab, but I think this level of stupidity just knocked him off-guard.Or maybe it was pity that allowed him to show such kindness. I have no idea.

All I know is that I was shaking with supressed laughter at this point. It hurt to hold it in and tight little squealing giggles were escaping.

I'm pretty sure I'll never recover.

List of Things That Amuse Me (That Probably Shouldn't)

1.) This Video
It's video of a turtle set over audio from a guy bitching about his life in Michigan and fat people.
My friend made it while he was high. Need I say more.

2.)Sitting up until ungodly hours in Bruce Lobby.
At about 3 AM the conversations take a turn for the fucked-up. They tend to be intelligent, but seriously silly at the same time. For example: we postulated that our friend Scott was indestructible and immortal. We realized that the absolute power of his position would corrupt him, and he would have to be punished. Since he was indestructible and immortal the only real answer was to shoot him into the center of the sun. At about 4:00AM we decided that since Scott was indestructible, so too must his semen be indestructible as well. So every time the guy ejaculated many, many women in a radius around him would become pregnant with his immortal and indestructable children. They would eventually form a human chain to the sun and rescue their biological father. The End.

3.) The formatting on the above text.
Hilarious, right?

4.) I "collect" woman jokes and dead baby jokes.

5.) I think it is funny that 4chan has spread to my hometown.
I also hate the anchor that begins that video, because he's a tool. I think the Pool's Closed meme is pretty funny. Also, the theme for this newscast made me giggle.

McCain Pics Palin as VP and Why This Choice is Idiotic

1.) She has been governor of Alaska, and before that mayor of a tiny town.
McCain just killed his "experience" card.

2.) She is a woman that opposes women's rights. Equal pay for equal work? Nope. Non-abstinence sex education? Nope. A woman's right to choose? Nope.
Any Hillary supporters McCain hoped to draw should be horrified and insulted that they are asked to vote for this woman.

3.) She is mired in ethics investigations, and is currently being investigated by the Alaskan Legislature.
Troopergate. Hysterical.

4.) Her husband works for BP and she doesn't acknowledge man-made climate change. She also opposed the addition of the Polar Bear to the Endangered Species Act.
Conflict of interest anyone? I'd be happy to finally have a VP that isn't entangled in Big Oil for a change.

5.) Her daughter, Bristol, is a 17 year-old pregnant mother.
Oops. Abstinence education really works, right? Right? *crickets*

Sarah Palin is the wrong person for the job. I have no idea what you were thinking John McCain.

Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers on my Right, Here I am...

stuck in the middle with you*.

I hate it when two friends break up with each other.

When two people that were once considered a cohesive unit split apart. Most especially after it gets to the point that their names stick to each other, like iron and a magnet, and it's difficult to say one name without the other. Soon I will say their names together, attracted like positive and negative, for the last time, and it will be while giving someone the news that they, as a collective of two people, are over.

Right now I'm worried for both of them. Completely split. And for one reason or another they're both jokers and they're both clowns. I'm in the middle, worried that one or both of our relationships will be sacrificed, or shaved down* as a result.

Joker was an aquaintance before she dated Clown, and we only became close friends after they were a couple. Clown I became friends with as a result me becoming closer to Joker, but we would have become friends on our own. For awhile I was their go-to third wheel. Looking back, I don't know if I was just an unconcious wedge to keep them apart during those moments. To keep them from being intimate, fighting, alone and completely wrapped up in their relationship. Only, I think I just got wrapped up in their relationship with the both of them.

There is entirely too much "I" in this post. I know. I can't express my worry for both of them any more than saying "I'm worried for both of them, equally, and in different ways," because of this medium. I don't air my greviences toward other people online anymore, and I certainly don't air other people's.





*I could have made a Resovoir Dogs reference here, but I'm classier than that. Which is probably entirely negated by the fact that I added this asterisk. Shit. They both feel like they cut off their own ear. Van Gough references are classier than Terantino, right?

Why I Need a Stiff Drink, how I Always fall into Thorns, and how I Learned to Stop Worrying and Learn to Love the U-haul.

Ok. So I've been living in my friend's apartment while she's in Paris on the condition that I move her out before August 1st, since she'll still be abroad then. Fair enough, not a big deal at all.

I was under the impression that her dad was getting a moving truck for a few days so that I could load up everything and move it to the storage shed for them.

Since it would be several days, and since nobody in town was off at 10:00 this morning to give me a ride when I needed to go to U-haul, I decided to get up earlyish (early for me, anyway) and walk to the store. It's about a mile and a half, no biggie, right? I live on Teasley, and the U-haul store is on Ft. Worth. I would just walk up beside the access road to Ft. Worth and cut under the overpass and I'd be right there. I totally forgot that U-haul was halfway between Teasley and Ft. Worth Drive. I totally forgot about the train tracks that go under I-35.

I had to walk down the embankment and cross the train tracks and the right-of-way not once, but twice, because I am a dumbass. The second time the embankment was covered in thorny bracken. In some places you couldn't even see over the top, the thorns had grown so thick they made a hedge of pointy pain and vines.

I finally saw a path, with a complete clearing and I got about halfway up before I noticed that there was a tent. Not only one tent, but several tents made from bits of tarp and cardboard. I had found a homeless village by the railroad tracks. Maybe if I were Jack Kerouac I would have been more thrilled. However, I am not, nor have I ever been a beat poet and roustabout, so I turned around like any sensible girl would and tried to find a different way.

I found a somewhat promising path, and figured that with a few stomps here and there I'd come through relatively unscathed. Of course I tripped mid-stomp and ended up completely tangled up in thorns. I was about 20 yards away from hobo-ville so I was too afraid to even cry or curse loudly. (I wanted to do both!) I carefully picked myself up and got over the top without further incident, and behold! U-haul!

I went inside at exactly 9:55 AM, covered in dirt, scratches, leaves and burrs, probably looking homeless myself, and went to get my U-haul truck for the week. "Ok, have it back by 5:00 today," the helpful and oh-so-happy to see me clerk told me.

Crap.

So I called the only two friends available today, and we moved my friend's dresser, entertainment center, sectional couch, two recliners, bed, mattress, and dining room chairs to the storage shed. Tetris was involved.

It's 6:42 now and I still haven't had anything to eat.

Fuck adventures. I need a stiff drink. I'm thinking Colt 45, or maybe Boonesfarm.

It's a small, small world

I got to talking to a buddy of mine (who is dating a good friend of mine, that's how we met) who is a metalsmith and into Rennaissance Re-enacting and those martial arts, and it turns out that he's into Civil War re-enacting. Since the re-enacting thing is a pretty small world, he knows my dad by association. Weird, huh?

I really wish that I could somehow muster in and do all the cool stuff that my buddy and my dad get to do, but alas, my father's outfit is very historical (which is something to be proud of) and I would have to be able to pass muster as a male. Two problems with that: 1) I am female and I look very female 2) I grew up around these guys, my dad was their captain for crying out loud, even if I did look somewhat masculine they know who I am.

I would like to do the "living history" stuff, but since I'm female I would get to sit on the porch in a chemise, pantalettes, corset, crinoline and dress, wearing gloves and a big hat, while delicately fanning myself. Uh, no. Not fun.

NaBloPoMo and Weight Loss

That's right, in August I will be NaBloPoMo ing. I also joined BlogHer, but I dunno how that's supposed to work, whatever.

Basically I want strangers to read my blog, but not people I know, because I like to write about them, somewhat abstractly. I don't really write about people I know aaaaall that much. Sometimes I mention something about boyfriend or an acquaintance, but other than that, nope. I already did that "blog drama" shiz before and I'm not going there again. It's immature, and if you want to make amends, well, sorry, you put that shit out there on the internet like a bitch, and it's pretty much out there in some form or another, forever.

I'm about to get back onto the diet bandwagon hardcore style. I've been losing weight, but I haven't been as... strict as I should be. Thank you boyfriend and his hating-eating-in-late-at-night deal, but whatever, it's my fault too. I just bought a bunch of groceries and I have some vague plans on making soup. I have pork and beef, because I'm f*cking tired of f*cking chicken. I have one breast left over, and faced with the prospect of actually throwing it into the frying pan, I proceeded to toss it into the freezer.

I am also going to Wally World after work today and picking up some 10 lb weights and an exercise ball, maybe a Pilates DVD or something. I dunno. I want to be toned, and also speed up my weight loss. Free weights is something I can do, and crunches on a ball. Pilates is fun. I know if I say to myself "I will run in that nice park a block away from where you live." I will just make excuses and not do it. (Some of them are valid such as: "I don't want to be raped." and "It's really f*cking hot." Others? Not so much. "I hate running." and "I'd rather just read Fark." stand out amongst that crowd.)

Screen names

I'm going to rant now about the practice of moms choosing screennames based on their kid's name and their motherhood.

I'm glad that you're so happy being a mother. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, however, making motherhood the whole sum of your identity bothers me. Maybe it's a late-in-life mother thing. All those 40 year olds that waited to have kids until it was almost too late, or the ones that changed their mind when they were in their late 30's and decided they wanted to have a child after all.

Now, it may sound hypocritical for me to chastise someone else for their choice in how they want to live their lives and shape their identity. I just think it's harmful on the personal level as well as for the family dynamic. Investing so much of yourself into your child that you sacrifice everything, including your self-identity is almost as harmful as investing nothing. Look at it this way: if you give up on your personal needs you start to project them on your progeny in order to make up for that sacrifice. In comes the Vicarious Mothers.

Living vicariously through your offspring is probably a combination of a mixture of factors, including boredom and personal frustration. "I had to give up being a ____ so I could have this life and be a good mother, so you're going to do what I could never do." That's hardly a healthy way to raise a kid.

So what's next Alismom, Martasmom and Clintonsmom? Are you going to name yourselves Wifeoffred and Wifeofmatthew online now? And how come we don't see men naming themselves Franksdad and Alisdad? Why just the women? It disturbs me that we can so easily fall back into that kind of thinking in this day and age.

*See also: your baby as profile picture, engagement ring as facebook profile picture

I fixed it...

The network at home I mean. I am awesome. At googling I mean.

I can't understand how my family fails at google. How about googling "linksys wireless network configure" and going from there? But nooooo... They wait for me to do it. It's nice to be wanted, but at this point I wish they would teach themselves how to fish.

Tomorrow is the 4th of July Extravagansa Celebration for the Greatest, Best Nation, God Has Created on the Face of This Earth.

Cake makes me want to get married

I've been obsessing about Deb's saga over at SmittenKitchen.com

She is baking a wedding cake for a friend. The top two tiers are a buttermilk yellow cake with mango curd between the layers (three cakes for each tier!) and the bottom layer is a decadent chocolate/cinnamon/coffee cake with brandied ganache between the layers, all covered by a beautiful white (hopefully Swiss buttercream, if she can get over her "issues" with it) icing and decorated with flowers.

The pictures are beautiful, and I'm completely jealous of all the guests going to that wedding. Deb is making her friend a handsome gift.

All this makes me want to get married, which is terrible. I made the mistake of picking up Martha Stewart's Wedding Cakes book one time at Barnes and Noble, and I watch Ace of Cakes regularly on Food Network. All of that, and this blogger saga makes me want to get married, not because I really love the guy I'm with (which I do) not because I'm ready to grow up and start a family (which I'm not) and not because I'm committed to being a part of a marital relationship (which I am certainly not), but merely for the amazing, beautiful and decadent cake that will be at my wedding reception. Sorry mom.

Diamonds are forever. So is scoliosis.

Recently one of my Fraternity sisters got engaged. The very next day she posted the requisite picture of the engagement ring.

Also, the box that it came in had a light in the top so that you can see the shiny shiny diamond inside. Nice touch. Because I'm sure if he hadn't included that light she'd have said no. He'd have gone down on one knee and opened the box, and she'd look down and say "It's night time. I can't see the shiny. My answer is no."

Really though, they're a sweet couple and I wish them the best. They've been together for awhile and they're moving on with their lives together. Awesome.

This whole thing (in addition to this article) just sort of reminds my of my own stance on diamonds.
No. I've never seen Blood Diamond. I intend to eventually. I've felt this way since my World History teacher sophomore year of high school talked about why she doesn't wear her diamond ring.

Many of them are "blood diamonds" and almost all of them are mined by children. Think about that every time you look at your rock. Children.

The cheapest way to get diamonds out of the earth is strip-mining which is terrible for the environment. The processing requires the use of resources (especially water) that would be better served growing crops, or pretty much anything else.

DeBeers is a cartel that set the demand and artificially set the prices. They control all the mines and they have warehouses full of diamonds that they carefully monitor. Carbon is the most common element, so it stands to reason that diamonds are extremely common. They're extremely overpriced rocks.

In addition to all this, it is now possible to grow diamonds in a lab. Perfect diamonds, in any color you want. Of course DeBeers is on top of that because of course lab-grown diamonds mean that you appreciate and love that woman less because your feeling is as artificial as they are. Yeah.

So let me say this: if you love me, if you really, really love me, then you'll either buy me a lab-grown diamond or use the diamond earring my grandmother left me and set it into a ring. Either way, it would be more meaningful to me.

I can never find anything good on Etsy

I never find anything good on Etsy.

I love the concept, I just don't have the patience needed to sit down and look at all the ugly purses while trying to find the one I actually like. The "search with color" option only finds colors in the photograps of the items, meaning that cerulean blue color I'm looking for is a cloth that the person laid their brick red jewelry on top of in order to take a picture.

I'm addicted to something.

Umami

Explains alot, actually.

Why "Throwdown with Bobby Flay" is so good...

I greatly enjoy the Food Network. Ace of Cakes, Paula Deen, especially Alton Brown, and, yes, even Rachael Ray (God help me but that woman is spunky). One thing I cannot stand about the Food Network is that some of their personalities are overbearing. There are very few people on TV or in real life that I would like to cold-cock as a matter of principle, and the Food Network has one of them.

He's arrogant. He's abrasive. He has an annoying voice. He is so smug that he likely sniffs his own farts. No, it is not Anthony Bourdain. I love that man. For him these annoying qualities just work in a television context. And when you just start to get uncomfortable about how much of an ass he is, the producers of No Reservations make him crawl through bat guano. Excellent television.

No, the man that I despise also makes me hate Iron Chef. His smugness offended the Japanese in the original version of the show. The sheer arrogance of the man made me embarrassed to be an American (and I really don't feel that way often). Now that he's the star of the American version... let's just say I avoid the show like the plague.

Yep, I hate Bobby Flay.

If that man ever stepped foot into my kitchen I would probably throw him out on his ear. He can stay the hell away from my BBQ grill too. And I don't even have one.

The reason that I like Throwdown so much is also the reason my dad DVRed the episode of Iron Chef where he loses and watched the last 10 minutes repeatedly: it is so much fun to watch Bobby Flay lose. I'm pretty sure this is why Throwdown is a show in the first place.

Basically the premise of the show is for Flay to travel all over the US challenging various cooks to a "Throwdown" where he takes the basic premise of their dish or recipe and "shakes things up, Bobby Flay style" meaning he adds expensive-ass ingredients to a dish and makes it way too f-ing complicated. He challenged Paula Deen of all people to a chicken fried steak and biscuits and gravy. Of course he lost. Of course it was satisfying. Of course it was AWESOME.

If you enjoy watching an asshole get his nose rubbed in his own shit, then you'll enjoy "Throwdown with Bobby Flay."

(Cue Reading Rainbow book report finale "Du dum DUM!)

Computer Lab Job and "Deep Thoughts"

I got the computer lab job. Whoo hoo! I was pretty much able to walk in, have him talk to me about the job and when he asked me which hours I had available he hired me on the spot. Turns out he was really worn out and just wanted the position filled.

All of this means that I'll be on the computer for at least 13 hours/ week so I'll have a better, more boring atmosphere to update my blog.

Some "deep thoughts" might occur. Just FYI.

Additionally, Lesser Sean has been doing unspeakable things to Joseph's Jurassic Park pillow while Joseph is out of the apartment. Clancey got chewed out as a result, which made it funny to watch the little Swede try to justify himself.

South Beach Diet and Other Things

I'm not sure if it's the South Beach or a celebrated lack of Sertraline hyrdochloride in my system (Zoloft, it makes you fat, ask your shrink.) but I've lost a little weight. Yay. Dearest boyfriend is pleased, although not as much as I am.

I've moved into an apartment for the summer and it's pretty sweet. The walls I mean. Someone coated them with candy. (Not really, I just need to get out of the habit of describing something positive as "pretty sweet" if the thing I am not describing is not a food product that contains sugars, or small children, as I am neither a surfer nor a jackass.) But yeah, cooking and privacy, not to mention a closet twice the size of the one my that parents share, is a gratifying and somewhat new experience.

I'm reading Elizabeth: The Struggle for the Throne. I guess I'm just like everyone else that has a Tudor fascination lately. I was slightly mollified when I grabbed it off of the display at Barnes & Noble, then I remembered that I'm not a hipster nitwit and just enjoyed my book. The intense focus on her early life is excellent reading, not dry at all, however the author's selective bias in the research bothers a former history major. When the author used "I" the first time I assumed that it was the roman numeral, then I realized that "One believe that..." doesn't make sense, and that David Starkey broke the rules. If I can't use "I" in an essay in college then you can't use it in a supposedly historical book, and a spanking will be in order for the violator!

Milk

I wish mom and dad had put two and two together and realized that it's not normal to have your kid barf every day, and that maybe there was more to it than a "glass stomach."

Oops

Convention and Anal Retention

Well I got back today from the annual Texas Young Democrats convention. I've decided that the drive between Dallas and Hillsboro and Waco and Salado are both unbearable. Even more unbearable is the drive between Ft. Worth and Denton. Honestly, I'll take Dallas traffic over getting stir-crazy in my car driving through the middle of nowhere.

Convention was fun. Most of it was coming from young Democrats to other young Democrats, so that was a good time. I saw Boyd Richie speak, which was cool, and got to see a Q&A with some Young Democrat Super delegates.

Richie is a classic Texas politician. I hear him speak and my mind wanders to "Texian Decor" : offices with leather couches, star cut-outs on every lampshade, door handle and table, Texas Monthly and Texas Parks and Wildlife magazines on the table, backroom deals from the office and a glass of liquor to celebrate the deal. That's not really a bad thing, it's just the way it works here. (We wear "being Texan" on our sleeve most of the time, have you ever been to the Capitol? Yeah, and almost every lawmaker's personal office is that way too, I can assure you.) I got to see the big Texas Cheese, and it was cool.

There was a bit of a generational disconnect though. In one session we were encouraged to use facebook and other online social tools to recruit and gather information on potential Young Democrats. In another, the presenter told us to delete our myspace accounts, facebook profiles and stop blogging. Then he joked that it was already too late. Yeah, too late for an entire generation. Eventually people are going to learn to see the internet as a community, and not merely data on other people. Of course we need to not be dumbasses and put extremely personal information online. I don't think other people should know about intimate relationship details, or my address and what type of underwear I wear, either. At least, that's not my thing. I like reading other people's blogs on the subject, of course. But the thing that older people don't realize is, we don't judge other people for having this information online. It's basically accepted by our youth culture. In fact, it defines us as who we are. Differing values for differing generational cultures.

It boils down to the fact that previous generations have a bigger privacy bubble, and a smaller definition of community. They're usually limited to hometown, neighborhood, alma matter, and work for their social needs. I, on the other hand, dated a guy in high school that was from California. I met him through a friend I knew IRL (in real life, another example of change because of the internet), who met another guy through the internet, and then I met California guy through this guy. That wouldn't have happened a few years ago, and not just because of technological advances, but also because of cultural evolution. People were used to knowing the other person's 2nd cousin once removed, and the rest of their genealogical line, going back several generations.

While we are "strangers" in the sense that we can't really trace a bloodline personally, and that can be a discomfort because there is the quality of the unknown, as well as a bit of a risk, but our youth society as a whole is more likely to judge the individual in that way. I don't really care if you're the first person in your family going to college and your "ancestral manse" consists of a lot in a San Marcos, Texas trailer park. I care whether or not you're a nice person or an asshole, intelligent or stupid, whether you have a sense of humor or are a stick in the mud, curious or ignorant, well adjusted or fucked up, responsible or immature... I make those judgments based on what I know of the person, and they do the same for me.

I am fully aware that a person isn't who they are on the internet, and some people, I actually prefer their internet personas. We have time on the internet to process each thought as we type and post. I've probably deleted at least 1/3 of this post as I typed it, trying to most successfully get my point across without sounding like a slavering gibbering asshole. In conversation, especially over the phone, I am not nearly as articulate, but on the intertubes, I am a goddess of intellect with spell check and wikipedia at my side. I'm okay with the concept that people are different people in different contexts. It's just a part of how I grew up, and the experiences that shaped me.

So yes, I will continue to blog. I will continue to monitor my own interpretation of privacy, and to interact in my generation's version of community.

Literature

I just bought Maus II by Art Art Spiegelman. People are interested until I tell them that it's a graphic novel. "Oh." is usually their response.

"Oh." As in: "Oh, that's a comic book." "Oh, I thought you were smart and read things that were interesting and/or clever." "Oh, I thought you had better things to do with your time." "Oh, I'm going to stop talking to you now because you're a fangirl. Bye!"

Apparently literature has to be bound in leather, smell musty, have little to no pictures or illustrations, and nobody should want to read it.

Maus is a graphic novel. It is literature. Art Spiegelman wrote it about his father's experience in WWII during the Holocaust. The Nazis are cats, the Poles are pigs, the Americans are Dogs and the Jews are mice. Symbolism is cool. It wouldn't have come across as convincingly without the use of the comic medium for sure.

But Maus is not literature, because it has too many pictures.

Wortty Dirds

Everyone is freaking out at the midterm. People are freaking out about midterms, people are getting into drama, and I'm weary of it. I'm so tired of my own usual stresses that just being around other people's stress is stressing me out. 

It's contagious that way.

I'd go into more of the drama crap, but I'm not enough of a bitch to go into it on a public forum, or passive-aggressive enough to do anything else of that kind. Tensions are running high, and feelings are getting hurt right and left. It's a combination of females being females and natural miscommunication. It would play out as an awesome screenplay catfight, lemme tell you.

My hands are chapped. It sucks. The shingles rash itches and aches in turn. I've had to pop a valium or two to keep it from disrupting my sleep, and that's worked so far so that's a blessing.

I've decided that I was freaking out about aperson because she's everything I'm not and everything I wish I could be, or get away with. I'm never going to be petite, overly-attractive, vulnerable, and able to "get around" without people constantly becoming attached or being labeled and disliked as a skank. Never gonna happen, so I may as well get used to it. I still don't like her because of the way she treats me (and everyone else, really), but that's okay. Darling boyfriend says I need to let things roll off my back more, but that's a problem I've always had so it's not going to go away anytime soon. 

I'm trying not to curse as much either. I'm attempting to cut down on the "fuck" and "god damn" in my life. It's about 60% effective at this point. I've been dropping f-bombs right and left when I'm pissed, but it's all but eliminated from casual conversation, which is a good start.

Photobooth on Mac is fun. That is all.

Texas Weather is a Moody Bitch

In like a lion out like a lamb, then in like a lion and out like a lamb...

Eff you, Texas Weather, eff you!

Monday night I had an inch of snow on my car. Today I'm wearing short sleeves and I just saw Leah in shorty shorts. WEIRD!

Also not helping: I have shingles, which is basically chicken pox that has re-activated in my system and is now attacking a nerve cluster along the right side of my body. Grrrrrreat! So I have to use this cream, and a soak and take anti-viral medication like I have herpes or something, which I do, but it's a version of herpes that almost everybody gets. So yea, I guess I'm under some stress or something, huh?

Since I've had so many health problems lately I've decided that I'm probably going to forgo summer school, and probably go home. I have NO IDEA what I'm going to get up to in New Braunfels, but I guess I'll find something interesting to do, somewhere. Basically my plan this summer is to not get fat, or work at Target. How I loathe you, Target. I don't know what's worse, being fat or working at Target. I'm going to have to go for an even tie there. I'll make my mom get me a gym membership and then I'll get all kinds of hot over the summer and try to work somewhere that doesn't suck.

If I get the computer lab job at the end of the semester... then I'll have to try to find something in Denton, because I'll want to. Robin made enough over the summer to stay in an apartment, so I bet I can too. Maybe I'll take a math class at NTCC or something and get that out of the way. A few math classes per week isn't so bad, and I'll have plenty of time to do homework if that's the only class I'm taking. So yea, that's an option.

I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

Seriously What the Fuck?

Today in Seriously What the Fuck:

Lesser Sean just told me a story about how his brother is "rock hard" when he passes out drunk. So brother of Lesser had a 3 hr erection and jammed it down his then-girlfriend now-wife's throat, causing her to throw up. Seriously, what the fuck?

My tonsils are the size of golf balls today. I don't have a fever, and they don't particularly hurt. Seriously, what the fuck?

Hillary wants feminists to vote for her, because she's a woman. So much for being egalitarian. Anyway, feminists are upset at her for resting on her husband's laurels, so they're not voting for her anyway. Most of her voters are less educated, older, white women. Yeah.

And chick lit. It pisses me off. I'm starting to see how demeaning it is, and we just lap that shit up. What the hell is wrong with us? Gretchen Wieners I hate you. I hate you with a fiery burning passion for what you've done to literature. What the hell happened to authors like Maya Angelou and Margaret Attwood? Why can't we take a page out of their books, so to speak?

Scott Pump and Jeffing. My love/hate relationship with denizens of Bruce Hall Lobby continues.

Late night musings...

I think I've developed a crush on Neil Gaiman. Not the physical "I want to tumble around with him awkwardly" sort of crush. More of an intellectual attraction crush. I want to talk to the man. He does sound a bit vain, sometimes, but particularly good writers are particularly known for that kind of thing. I guess maybe because he's "living the dream." Making art and being able to support himself and be considered successful. I have only one reader of my blog (mostly because I try to keep it that way) and my blog is just about as literary as I get these days, much to my mother's chagrin.

I'm frustrated that there are no real female characters of depth in comics. Mostly because 30 year old man-children can't handle it. I understand why basement-dwelling fatsos aren't interested in smart females (they'd only find another reason to reject them) but I still reserve the right to be pissed. If females are there at all they usually have giant breasts (see Power Girl) or wear fishnets (see Zatanna and Black Canary). Dinah has quite a good backstory, actually, but she's mostly depicted as the tantric-sex-having girlfriend and now wife of Green Arrow. Blondes and redheads are of course over-represented. There is a hispanic superheroine, the one that took over as The Question, but aside from being a hot latina lesbian (of course) and a former lover of Bat Woman (who is also an inexplicably hot-but-closeted lipstick lesbian), she's not that interesting. Boys suck. Next thing you know Granny Goodness will come out as a dyke. Of course the dyke would be a supervillianess, right? But I'm jumping ahead of the "boys will be boys" world, aren't I?

In happier news: Obama won the Iowa primary. Thank the lord. I will cry the day a black man is inaugurated. I will cry tears of joy and triumph. My mother says that America is not ready yet for a black man to be President. I think that we're ready for Barack Obama to be President and that it doesn't matter that he's black. It shouldn't matter that he's black. We will elect him as President. We have to.