Well, that's two tests down. Last night was chem; lots of plug-n-chug. So we were supposed to spend 70 minutes to answer 31 questions; I took less than half an hour to complete all 31, though I made sure I double-checked my work. On this one, I actually wasn't too worried about how well I'd do. No, I was really focused on finishing fast so I could catch a bus. Bad policy, I suppose, but hey, I had a couple minutes to spare at the bus stop and I'm happy with my grade.
Today I had my World Religions midterm. Now this one, this one I was really worried about. It seemed pretty daunting, having to answer 50 multiple choice questions in about 50 minutes; it's absolutely fine if you know the material, but if you have to give leeway for heavy mind-racking in case. So last night, amongst my games of freecell and minesweeper, not to mention a nap at 11pm, I got to bed after studying everything at about 3. That's pretty good considering I had planned to do an all-nighter.
This morning I took a couple liberties and studied a sheet of key terms during my CS class (not Counter Strike, mind you), thanks to the wonderful set-up of a lecture hall, not to mention the lack of new material. I got through at least looking up all the terms to have a vague idea of what they meant.
Then the test: I was really nervous going into it, so as soon as they said start, I raced to fill in the little bubbles. Going at a pretty flashy pace, I finished in under 15 minutes. Oops. Studied a bit too much, I suppose, but then again, I don't think I would have liked to study any less. But at least I came out feeling confident and music blaring in my ears, and at this point, that's what counts. Having loud music, that is.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
permanent guest
"Who are you again?" I asked.
"I said call me Reizo." The man gave me a lopsided smile. "Look, I don't think you can pronounce my real name, so just deal with it." He frowned slightly, examining my expression. It was hard to describe the fellow before me. It felt as if he was immensely strong, but his lanky figure gave none of that impression. His clothing seemed to change color every now and then, but usually was a mixture of black and red. It also seemed to vary between a long trenchcoat with a tight vest, a robe, and slick leather with a cloak. It was as if this stranger had such an ambivalence within him that it manifested itself in his clothing. It was also as if he wasn't a stranger.
He suddenly cocked an eyebrow. "You look like you want to ask me something else."
"Oh," I muttered, trying to snap back into reality. Like that was going to happen with this guy around. "Well, umm, yes. Yes, there's something very important I'd like to ask you." I took a deep breath, trying to search for words and simultaneously not to blow up on this guy. Nothing elegant came to mind, so I spewed, "Why the frig are you on my blog?"
"Ah yes, well, there's a little story to that, now isn't there." The wanderer said it as if it were both a statement and a question that I was to answer. He fell silent, as if recalling the series of events that led to his taking up residence on my blog. Well, score 1 for the cryptic team.
"But why did it have to be my blog? Hello? Couldn't you all like pack up and move your stuff off my webspace?" The words didn't seem very nice coming out of my mouth, but I really didn't need random people clogging up my airwaves.
"Hey, I'm already set up here." He gestured to the elaborate array of belongings seemingly dumped in a few piles behind him, along with the rock that had mysteriously appeared along with him. I was pretty sure there were no rocks there before either, not to mention tufts of grass growing from around it, but nevermind that. "And no, you can't dissuade me from staying."
I sighed, deciding I better not press further. "Well, since you're here, do you want something to drink?" I settled a goblet into my hand, then twirled it in the air a few times.
"I'll take one of those agnoberry wines you've got back there," he murmured, somehow back in deep, contemplative thought. As if anyone can make that kind of transition. But was that really thought? It seemed as if he was listening to something distant. Or maybe someone.
Not stopping to wonder how he knew my selection, I flipped open the cabinet and withdrew a flask. Having poured out a half-goblet for each of us, I offered him his share and tried again to strike up a conversation. "So from where do you hail?"
"Far away. I think it's--" He paused momentarily, his eyes sliding up and to the left. "That way." He pointed somewhere behind him.
That's specific. Especially in cyberspace. "Might I know of the place?"
"I think not. It's like really far away." Uh huh. "It's actually kinda hard to explain how I got here because, well, 'cause I don't totally remember." He thought again. "Yeah, something like that." He scratched his head momentarily.
My brow furrowed. No way could that have happened. It's just that no one can be that distorted unless... "Were you--"
"Yeah, it happens," he interrupted. "Try not to talk about it too much. People can get a bit jittery." As if I wasn't already.
"May I ask how--"
"No, and you wouldn't believe me anyway." This guy was full of answers. I got the feeling that his trend would be more prominent than I wanted. He also felt like a big-time know-it-all. This would probably make the list, too.
I searched for something I could get a clear answer to. Not coming up with anything, I asked, "Anything you can tell me?"
Reizo frowned momentarily. "Yes, but no," he decided. At that, he got up and moved back to his piles of stuff. Which left me hanging.
"I said call me Reizo." The man gave me a lopsided smile. "Look, I don't think you can pronounce my real name, so just deal with it." He frowned slightly, examining my expression. It was hard to describe the fellow before me. It felt as if he was immensely strong, but his lanky figure gave none of that impression. His clothing seemed to change color every now and then, but usually was a mixture of black and red. It also seemed to vary between a long trenchcoat with a tight vest, a robe, and slick leather with a cloak. It was as if this stranger had such an ambivalence within him that it manifested itself in his clothing. It was also as if he wasn't a stranger.
He suddenly cocked an eyebrow. "You look like you want to ask me something else."
"Oh," I muttered, trying to snap back into reality. Like that was going to happen with this guy around. "Well, umm, yes. Yes, there's something very important I'd like to ask you." I took a deep breath, trying to search for words and simultaneously not to blow up on this guy. Nothing elegant came to mind, so I spewed, "Why the frig are you on my blog?"
"Ah yes, well, there's a little story to that, now isn't there." The wanderer said it as if it were both a statement and a question that I was to answer. He fell silent, as if recalling the series of events that led to his taking up residence on my blog. Well, score 1 for the cryptic team.
"But why did it have to be my blog? Hello? Couldn't you all like pack up and move your stuff off my webspace?" The words didn't seem very nice coming out of my mouth, but I really didn't need random people clogging up my airwaves.
"Hey, I'm already set up here." He gestured to the elaborate array of belongings seemingly dumped in a few piles behind him, along with the rock that had mysteriously appeared along with him. I was pretty sure there were no rocks there before either, not to mention tufts of grass growing from around it, but nevermind that. "And no, you can't dissuade me from staying."
I sighed, deciding I better not press further. "Well, since you're here, do you want something to drink?" I settled a goblet into my hand, then twirled it in the air a few times.
"I'll take one of those agnoberry wines you've got back there," he murmured, somehow back in deep, contemplative thought. As if anyone can make that kind of transition. But was that really thought? It seemed as if he was listening to something distant. Or maybe someone.
Not stopping to wonder how he knew my selection, I flipped open the cabinet and withdrew a flask. Having poured out a half-goblet for each of us, I offered him his share and tried again to strike up a conversation. "So from where do you hail?"
"Far away. I think it's--" He paused momentarily, his eyes sliding up and to the left. "That way." He pointed somewhere behind him.
That's specific. Especially in cyberspace. "Might I know of the place?"
"I think not. It's like really far away." Uh huh. "It's actually kinda hard to explain how I got here because, well, 'cause I don't totally remember." He thought again. "Yeah, something like that." He scratched his head momentarily.
My brow furrowed. No way could that have happened. It's just that no one can be that distorted unless... "Were you--"
"Yeah, it happens," he interrupted. "Try not to talk about it too much. People can get a bit jittery." As if I wasn't already.
"May I ask how--"
"No, and you wouldn't believe me anyway." This guy was full of answers. I got the feeling that his trend would be more prominent than I wanted. He also felt like a big-time know-it-all. This would probably make the list, too.
I searched for something I could get a clear answer to. Not coming up with anything, I asked, "Anything you can tell me?"
Reizo frowned momentarily. "Yes, but no," he decided. At that, he got up and moved back to his piles of stuff. Which left me hanging.
Friday, September 22, 2006
poetic ninjas
Thursday morning I got to bed at about 2 AM, which, all things considered, really wasn't too bad. The only problem was that I hadn't studied for my quiz. I had, however, spent about three hours "translating" a Chinese poem into English; it was more of an interpretation, I suppose, given the fact that I don't speak or read Chinese (well, some of it indirectly through Japanese). We had to take the literal translation of each character and put it in some semblance of English.
The first line was something to the effect of: "mutual see time hard part also hard." If this makes any sense to you, well, good jorb. First of all, the ambiguity and imprecision of English makes even understanding the individual words difficult. And it was also difficult because I had to go and be creative thanks to my ego or some such; more specifically, I decided to make a sonnet. Here's the final product:
Although it’s hard, I yearn to be with you;
O I would never leave you if I could.
So I will wait till flowers become few
And till the East wind cannot move this wood,
Until the silkworm breathes its final breath
And silk is made no more; till ends are nigh
For torches burning brightly meeting death;
The tear-streaks on my ashen face are dry.
So into morning mirror I will gaze
And grievingly see hair turned cloudy gray;
By night, while moon’s light goes from phase to phase,
Despite the cold, so warm my heart will stay.
Though Mount Peng nears, it’s you I wish to see—
I’ll be a bluebird waiting patiently.
Normally, I would make something up about how this relates to my life, mainly because I make analogies and other analagous things up as quick and as much as an, I dunno, an English major. There are only a couple problems. One is that I think this is from the point of view of a woman. Not to be sexist or anything like that, now; I just think that's what the (maybe) 8th/9th century author was thinking. And not that it's necessarily a problem; just doesn't fit in my current context. Another is that it'd probably be admitting a bit too much at the point where I'm at. Maybe not. Then again, maybe another time.
In unrelated news, last night I spent all my free time playing Disgaea 2, zam. In my sister's file (I'm not quite there yet; she's played nearly 10x as much as I have) there's this ninja who keeps on saying zam after every sentence, zam. My sister says that there are sentences where she doesn't say zam, but I've yet to hear one, zam. This, of course, makes for interesting fads, such as introducing the use of zam to friends who will spread the fun, zam. So I encourage the use of zam in your everyday conversation, in the classroom, at work, and anywhere else where you think you could get away with it, zam. Kinda like my chem homework, zam.
The first line was something to the effect of: "mutual see time hard part also hard." If this makes any sense to you, well, good jorb. First of all, the ambiguity and imprecision of English makes even understanding the individual words difficult. And it was also difficult because I had to go and be creative thanks to my ego or some such; more specifically, I decided to make a sonnet. Here's the final product:
Although it’s hard, I yearn to be with you;
O I would never leave you if I could.
So I will wait till flowers become few
And till the East wind cannot move this wood,
Until the silkworm breathes its final breath
And silk is made no more; till ends are nigh
For torches burning brightly meeting death;
The tear-streaks on my ashen face are dry.
So into morning mirror I will gaze
And grievingly see hair turned cloudy gray;
By night, while moon’s light goes from phase to phase,
Despite the cold, so warm my heart will stay.
Though Mount Peng nears, it’s you I wish to see—
I’ll be a bluebird waiting patiently.
Normally, I would make something up about how this relates to my life, mainly because I make analogies and other analagous things up as quick and as much as an, I dunno, an English major. There are only a couple problems. One is that I think this is from the point of view of a woman. Not to be sexist or anything like that, now; I just think that's what the (maybe) 8th/9th century author was thinking. And not that it's necessarily a problem; just doesn't fit in my current context. Another is that it'd probably be admitting a bit too much at the point where I'm at. Maybe not. Then again, maybe another time.
In unrelated news, last night I spent all my free time playing Disgaea 2, zam. In my sister's file (I'm not quite there yet; she's played nearly 10x as much as I have) there's this ninja who keeps on saying zam after every sentence, zam. My sister says that there are sentences where she doesn't say zam, but I've yet to hear one, zam. This, of course, makes for interesting fads, such as introducing the use of zam to friends who will spread the fun, zam. So I encourage the use of zam in your everyday conversation, in the classroom, at work, and anywhere else where you think you could get away with it, zam. Kinda like my chem homework, zam.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
silver cycle
In other news, I think my most recent depression cycle has finally come to an end, or at least, has reached the non-depression part of the cycle. I never know how long these periods are going to last, nor how soon the next will be, so it's go with the flow every time. While I can't say that I've answered the burning questions inside of me, I think I've at least cooled the flames a bit.
So, as I've asked myself for the past two weeks: who am I? who are you? and why does it matter? and since it does matter, should it matter? and if it doesn't, then why do we even care? should we stop? or is that even relevant?
When faced with this plethora of questions, to even start to tackle who a person is, the first logical thing (as if there is one) is to determine what constitutes an identity; because an identity is somewhat undefinable, this makes the process a bit difficult. Here are a few questions I posed: is an identity merely what you think of yourself, merely what other people think, or a combination? Or perhaps is it purely what you think, as much as it has been influenced by other schools of thought? Or is it the other way around, it depending only on the development of the perspectives of the people you influence?
And what of differing schools of thought? That is to say, what about the differing and often conflicting perspectives of your identity? How do the reconcile their differences? Do you then merely have several different identites that either you take on or people put on you depending on what people you're around, or do they all come together into one amalgamation of thought? And if so, does that mean that we're all dangerously and horridly conflicted, ambivalent, indecisive beings that don't know what to do because of all of the inconsistencies within ourselves?
So as you can tell, I don't exactly have answers to all these questions, though I think I can safely assume that an identity is something of a conglomeration of things. As thinking does, I merely created more questions for myself rather than coming to conclusions. But this I did realize: it all at once matters completely and doesn't matter at all. It matters who we are as seen by the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ; it is because of His love and grace that we as humans matter. However, because of His love, in a sense it really doesn't matter at all; in comparison to his infinite love and glory, our identity outside of Him is completely insignificant -- and yet it still matters to Him.
When it comes down to it, I always look back on these depression cycles and praise God for them for the things that he teaches me. While it's (probably) true that no one appreciates hard times and the trials in our lives, I think it's always important to look at what you can get out of them rather than focusing so tightly on what it is negative, as I see so many people around me doing.
So, just because I'm in a didactic type of mood -- and I'm sure this'll relate to some of you out there bothering to read this (which is whole 'nother topic) -- instead of focusing on how much of a waste of time class/school is, try to learn something instead; education is what you put into it, not what teachers give. So if you complain that you aren't learning anything, I ask you: are you trying? are you caring enough? if not, why are you here? and if the material really is below you, why don't you do something about it? If you don't try to even begin to care because you're lazy or some such, well, that's your own fault, so keep your mouth shut and stop complaining. Because almost nothing is handed out on a silver platter. Almost.
So, as I've asked myself for the past two weeks: who am I? who are you? and why does it matter? and since it does matter, should it matter? and if it doesn't, then why do we even care? should we stop? or is that even relevant?
When faced with this plethora of questions, to even start to tackle who a person is, the first logical thing (as if there is one) is to determine what constitutes an identity; because an identity is somewhat undefinable, this makes the process a bit difficult. Here are a few questions I posed: is an identity merely what you think of yourself, merely what other people think, or a combination? Or perhaps is it purely what you think, as much as it has been influenced by other schools of thought? Or is it the other way around, it depending only on the development of the perspectives of the people you influence?
And what of differing schools of thought? That is to say, what about the differing and often conflicting perspectives of your identity? How do the reconcile their differences? Do you then merely have several different identites that either you take on or people put on you depending on what people you're around, or do they all come together into one amalgamation of thought? And if so, does that mean that we're all dangerously and horridly conflicted, ambivalent, indecisive beings that don't know what to do because of all of the inconsistencies within ourselves?
So as you can tell, I don't exactly have answers to all these questions, though I think I can safely assume that an identity is something of a conglomeration of things. As thinking does, I merely created more questions for myself rather than coming to conclusions. But this I did realize: it all at once matters completely and doesn't matter at all. It matters who we are as seen by the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ; it is because of His love and grace that we as humans matter. However, because of His love, in a sense it really doesn't matter at all; in comparison to his infinite love and glory, our identity outside of Him is completely insignificant -- and yet it still matters to Him.
When it comes down to it, I always look back on these depression cycles and praise God for them for the things that he teaches me. While it's (probably) true that no one appreciates hard times and the trials in our lives, I think it's always important to look at what you can get out of them rather than focusing so tightly on what it is negative, as I see so many people around me doing.
So, just because I'm in a didactic type of mood -- and I'm sure this'll relate to some of you out there bothering to read this (which is whole 'nother topic) -- instead of focusing on how much of a waste of time class/school is, try to learn something instead; education is what you put into it, not what teachers give. So if you complain that you aren't learning anything, I ask you: are you trying? are you caring enough? if not, why are you here? and if the material really is below you, why don't you do something about it? If you don't try to even begin to care because you're lazy or some such, well, that's your own fault, so keep your mouth shut and stop complaining. Because almost nothing is handed out on a silver platter. Almost.
overloaded overloads
Dang, right now, I'm really bogged down with all my school work. I barely managed to complete my math homework thanks to a long bus ride and a couple of hours to spare before class, which ended up taking probably around 5 hours. That's not too bad considering I had a week, but I usually spend the first half just figuring out the problems in my head without writing them down; that way I'll know pretty much exactly what I'm going to write before I start, though I suppose I waited a bit long this time around. But it's done, so no problem for now (there might be one when I get it back >_>).
Today I've got a chem quiz, which while I'm not looking forward to it, I'm not worrying too much about it; I aced the last one and this section's material isn't that much different in difficulty level. However, I'm really not liking the idea of an "hour exam" next week. Not only will that be (1) an exam, it'll (2) dig into my time, it'll eat away at the time I have to study for my World Religions midterm, which is on the next evening. That will not be fun.
Closer to home, I've got a quiz in my World Religions class on Buddhism tomorrow, so tonight I've got to reread the readings and study my notes. Yeah, it's just a quiz, but there aren't enough grades in the class to make up for really any bad grades and I've already had a quiz I wouldn't like to comment on, which means I just told you what happened. Anyways, for my East Asian Literature class, I've got to write a poem based off of the literal translation of a Chinese poem. While on the one had this is extra credit, it's extra credit, so that's gotta get done tonight. Btw, I haven't started on it. So it'll be a long night tonight.
Life is busy, but it's just one step at a time. Let's just hope the road isn't too rocky.
Today I've got a chem quiz, which while I'm not looking forward to it, I'm not worrying too much about it; I aced the last one and this section's material isn't that much different in difficulty level. However, I'm really not liking the idea of an "hour exam" next week. Not only will that be (1) an exam, it'll (2) dig into my time, it'll eat away at the time I have to study for my World Religions midterm, which is on the next evening. That will not be fun.
Closer to home, I've got a quiz in my World Religions class on Buddhism tomorrow, so tonight I've got to reread the readings and study my notes. Yeah, it's just a quiz, but there aren't enough grades in the class to make up for really any bad grades and I've already had a quiz I wouldn't like to comment on, which means I just told you what happened. Anyways, for my East Asian Literature class, I've got to write a poem based off of the literal translation of a Chinese poem. While on the one had this is extra credit, it's extra credit, so that's gotta get done tonight. Btw, I haven't started on it. So it'll be a long night tonight.
Life is busy, but it's just one step at a time. Let's just hope the road isn't too rocky.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
australian snakes
So I had this really crazy dream a couple nights ago and I've managed to piece together a few bits. There was a whole bunch more to it, but I can only remember the end, which was a cartoon. Now, I swear I saw a comic strip of this sometime before this, but I can't for the life of me remember from where, but maybe I just saw it in the dream. Or maybe it was a previous dream. Hmm.
In any case, the dream cartoon goes something like this. There's this ranger-wildlife type guy, dressed in classic beige tromping-through-the-everglades type of vest, shorts, and of course, a wide-brimmed hat. He's walking through this desert type of place (Sahara Desert, I imagine), though there are trees; how this works, I don't know, but hey, it was a dream. He talks in a thick Australian accent, talking and gesturing towards the camera Steve Irwin style.
This is probably the introduction of the show, so the nameless ranger talks of the various different species of animals found in the desert where he's at. He is growled at by a number of creatures, mainly feline animals like panthers and jaguars. The ranger goes by nonchalantly, gesturing and talking of each kind of animal as if it weren't ready to bite his head off. He finally comes to an enormous lion who roars loudly, shaking the screen. "But even lions aren't the most fearsome of the creatures of the desert," declares the ranger. "These are none other than--"
Suddenly, the camera flips up, getting a view of the tops of the trees and the blinding light from above. Then, out of nowhere, snakes rain from the sky, landing all around. Snapping back to the ranger, the animals around him cringe at the sight of the snakes. Grabbing a snake by the back of its head so as to not get bitten, the ranger cries, "SNAKES FROM A PLANE!!" The lions, etc. dash away in a cloud of dust, leaving the ranger in a circle of snakes.
So as my sister pointed out, not only is this an incredibly strange dream, it manages to combine two of the recent internet fads, which is pretty impressive. I'm not sure how to interpret this as to how it relates to my life, but it might be that I'm on the intarweb too much. Not like that's possible.
In any case, the dream cartoon goes something like this. There's this ranger-wildlife type guy, dressed in classic beige tromping-through-the-everglades type of vest, shorts, and of course, a wide-brimmed hat. He's walking through this desert type of place (Sahara Desert, I imagine), though there are trees; how this works, I don't know, but hey, it was a dream. He talks in a thick Australian accent, talking and gesturing towards the camera Steve Irwin style.
This is probably the introduction of the show, so the nameless ranger talks of the various different species of animals found in the desert where he's at. He is growled at by a number of creatures, mainly feline animals like panthers and jaguars. The ranger goes by nonchalantly, gesturing and talking of each kind of animal as if it weren't ready to bite his head off. He finally comes to an enormous lion who roars loudly, shaking the screen. "But even lions aren't the most fearsome of the creatures of the desert," declares the ranger. "These are none other than--"
Suddenly, the camera flips up, getting a view of the tops of the trees and the blinding light from above. Then, out of nowhere, snakes rain from the sky, landing all around. Snapping back to the ranger, the animals around him cringe at the sight of the snakes. Grabbing a snake by the back of its head so as to not get bitten, the ranger cries, "SNAKES FROM A PLANE!!" The lions, etc. dash away in a cloud of dust, leaving the ranger in a circle of snakes.
So as my sister pointed out, not only is this an incredibly strange dream, it manages to combine two of the recent internet fads, which is pretty impressive. I'm not sure how to interpret this as to how it relates to my life, but it might be that I'm on the intarweb too much. Not like that's possible.
Monday, September 18, 2006
taichi lemons
This is kinda old news by now, but too bad; it's worth mentioning. Last Friday I went to the weekly InterVarsity large group in the Loft (which is cleverly stationed above one of our Jimmy John's). I go to these worship sessions every week, along with small group Bible study every Thursday evening. The speaker was Joe Whitchurch, who was a really good speaker; he talked about people being thinkers. In particular, instead of going along the generally (absent-mindedly) practiced notion to accept everything as it is given to us, we should consider everything carefully. While this doesn't mean to automatically reject everything that is said, it doesn't mean that everything is as it seems at face value. Which is what I've been saying for years, so I was happy to hear a speaker say as much, though it also brought it home that much more.
After a time of singing and prayer, followed by a little downtime of socializing, we had so-called "New Student Appreciation Night," of which I had forgotten about completely, but stayed for it anyways because I like being appreciated :) While there wasn't a lot of focus on new students or on appreciating new students or new students appreciating the veterans, there was plenty of fun. We split into groups based upon general major (us engineering students had to be split up into more specific majors because we would have totally dominated otherwise), so I was with the CS group. (That is Computer Science, mind you, not Counter Strike, as I've had a number of people ask. I wouldn't exactly mind the latter, though.)
Our task was to create the "latest" fashions out of newspaper. We would mold our creativity onto our victim via masking tape and our intellect. As if. So our team decided that we'd go for the business not-so-formal look, and set out to deck our guy out with a suit, dress pants with pockets, and a spiffy tie (which I was the main constructor of; it was quite spiffy if I might say so myself). We also provided him with two essential accessories: a briefcase and the obligitory Taichi sword. When we showed our guy off, he was quite a hit, fending off vicious assailants.
In other news, today was my sister's birthday. Wish her well for the 23 years she's been around and the many more to come. We had a really awesome lemony-type cake made by the Cheesecake Factory last night, and it was totally the best cake I've had in forever. Didn't get to take any home, though, which made me sad. There was still chocolate cake though.
After a time of singing and prayer, followed by a little downtime of socializing, we had so-called "New Student Appreciation Night," of which I had forgotten about completely, but stayed for it anyways because I like being appreciated :) While there wasn't a lot of focus on new students or on appreciating new students or new students appreciating the veterans, there was plenty of fun. We split into groups based upon general major (us engineering students had to be split up into more specific majors because we would have totally dominated otherwise), so I was with the CS group. (That is Computer Science, mind you, not Counter Strike, as I've had a number of people ask. I wouldn't exactly mind the latter, though.)
Our task was to create the "latest" fashions out of newspaper. We would mold our creativity onto our victim via masking tape and our intellect. As if. So our team decided that we'd go for the business not-so-formal look, and set out to deck our guy out with a suit, dress pants with pockets, and a spiffy tie (which I was the main constructor of; it was quite spiffy if I might say so myself). We also provided him with two essential accessories: a briefcase and the obligitory Taichi sword. When we showed our guy off, he was quite a hit, fending off vicious assailants.
In other news, today was my sister's birthday. Wish her well for the 23 years she's been around and the many more to come. We had a really awesome lemony-type cake made by the Cheesecake Factory last night, and it was totally the best cake I've had in forever. Didn't get to take any home, though, which made me sad. There was still chocolate cake though.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
technological coaxing
So here's my problem (as if I had only one): I lack some of the essential aspects of a generic college student. I have a few things, such as the mp3 player (as ghetto as it might be) and the ability to speedwalk anti-socially across campus with an air of confidence and callous indifference to the things going on around me. I also have superb jaywalking skills; when coupled with being able to walk within inches of vehicles moving at 30 miles per hour, this adds up to being able to cross streets with the best of them.
Now, I have most of the essential Asian freshman aspects of a college student. I have this somewhat-subconscious sense that I know everything. Now, this could be just be because of my stage in life as a male teenager/young-adult-type person, but I think it goes beyond that. We freshman can come off as thinking like we're the rulers of the skies; as much as you might not think that from talking with me in person, I do believe that I act upon it more than I'd like to admit. To add to that, I've had it ingrained in me that Asians are smart; me as one of the aforementioned group does not help the situation.
Of course, with freshman-hood comes the obvious noobishness, which I also have down very well. I'd rather not go into detail about that for similarly obvious reasons :P
But I digress. In any case, the two essential aspects of a college student that I am missing are internet in my residence and a cellphone. For those of you who've never tried, both are extremely difficult to live without, especially at the same time. It was hard enough in high school, but it's really come to an unbearable state here in college. This is also why I haven't posted in a few days, but no worries there; I'm not sure you've missed much.
The only problem with both is that I have to convince my parents of both, though mainly my dad. I say this because, considering my current state of miniscule income, they will be paying the bills; I'm pretty sure I could pay for both considering what I'm bringing in right now, but that'd kinda leave me with close to a handful of dust. So, I'd already have them both if it were up to me.
So I'm still pushing for both, though mainly just the internet; I can deal without having to talk to people with my voice via phone.
Now, I have most of the essential Asian freshman aspects of a college student. I have this somewhat-subconscious sense that I know everything. Now, this could be just be because of my stage in life as a male teenager/young-adult-type person, but I think it goes beyond that. We freshman can come off as thinking like we're the rulers of the skies; as much as you might not think that from talking with me in person, I do believe that I act upon it more than I'd like to admit. To add to that, I've had it ingrained in me that Asians are smart; me as one of the aforementioned group does not help the situation.
Of course, with freshman-hood comes the obvious noobishness, which I also have down very well. I'd rather not go into detail about that for similarly obvious reasons :P
But I digress. In any case, the two essential aspects of a college student that I am missing are internet in my residence and a cellphone. For those of you who've never tried, both are extremely difficult to live without, especially at the same time. It was hard enough in high school, but it's really come to an unbearable state here in college. This is also why I haven't posted in a few days, but no worries there; I'm not sure you've missed much.
The only problem with both is that I have to convince my parents of both, though mainly my dad. I say this because, considering my current state of miniscule income, they will be paying the bills; I'm pretty sure I could pay for both considering what I'm bringing in right now, but that'd kinda leave me with close to a handful of dust. So, I'd already have them both if it were up to me.
So I'm still pushing for both, though mainly just the internet; I can deal without having to talk to people with my voice via phone.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
from blood samples to mock representatives
This morning I woke up to the slamming of a door. That really didn’t register, so I mechanically rose out of bed, grabbed my clothes for the day, and headed into the bathroom to take a shower. And then I realized that a door slamming meant people were leaving. In particular, my mom and sister were headed off. This immediately meant for me that it must be 7:20 and I had missed my trip in; no worries: I figured I’d either drive down myself or have my dad send me. So on that note I ditched my clothes and had a shower.
About halfway through, I remembered that my sister had a doctor’s appointment at 7:15 or some such, so they probably left for that, which meant that it was earlier than 7:20. I also recalled that my mom could come back and pick me up. No problem there either.
With fresh clothes on, I headed downstairs for my usual morning glass of milk to relieve my dry throat. This was on par with my irritated nose; allergies seemed to be worse this morning than normal, but then again, it could just be me. It could’ve been the flowers that my mom brouht home last night, which is what I’ve hence blamed, but it really could just be higher pollen counts for the day.
So getting ready, I began to pack my bag for the day. Remembering that last night I had forgot to charge my laptop, I proceeded to get a quick charge in before I had to go. Of course, I wanted to find out what the charge was, so I turned it on. 76%, it read, so I was happy. I once again remembered about the fact that my mom was coming back, so I decided that I should finish packing and all that. So after stuffing a hefty chemistry book into my messenger bag, I headed upstairs to get the socks that I had forgotten and anything else that I might need.
Passing through the kitchen, I grabbed a kleenex and blew my nose, only to find a large splotch of crimson red on it. Great, just what I need, a nosebleed. So there I stand at the kitchen sink, going through maybe seven tissues before the tide was stemmed. Upstairs I went, gathering the last of my things and finishing up any bathroom related items.
About at this point my mom came back, so we headed off to the clinic to pick my sister up. While heading out of the house, it slowly surfaced that today was the Mock Expo Career Fair, meaning I had to be at the Union at 9:00 in order to have plenty of time to talk to representatives and make it to my 9:30 class. Now, the plan had been for me to take the 8:10 bus from Parkland to campus, arrive a few minutes before 9:00 to catch my breath, and head in. My mom said that this should be no problem, saying that a 7:15 appointment should be well over by 7:45. Well, not quite. It wasn’t till about 8:00 that my sister emerged, which meant that there was no possibility of my taking the 8:10 bus; I’d have to take the 8:42 bus and completely miss Mock Expo, which was btw a requirement for my engineering 100 class.
Well, mom to the rescue, she decided that she’d send both my sister and I to campus. So arriving before 8:30, I had plenty of time to compose my thoughts and take a few deep breaths. And also remember at about 8:55 that I had secretly planned to utilize my mom’s printer and print out my resume.
So off to the Union computer labs I went. I successfully located my resume after a long search of my databases, only to find a more recent copy on my flash drive; oh well, so I proceeded to print it out. Only problem was that there was a long line of people also printing out their resumes. So 9:00 came and went, which was in one sense no problem, because I had till 9:30 to get to class. Thankfully I didn’t have long to walk after grabbing my resume off the printer, and was in the Colonial Room of the Union by 9:15.
The representative I talked to was very nice. She was very understanding of my freshman-noobishness and the like and gave me lots of useful tips. In retrospect, I think she told me stuff I had already known, but it was good to really let it sink in and make me realize that these really were useful things to do -- and that I needed to get on the ball despite her saying that I already was.
By the time I was out the front doors of the Union, it was 9:35. So there you have it, you can all pat me on the back; I was late to my first class today and it’s almost been three weeks. That’s not bad if you ask me. So I grabbed a bus and headed over to Siebel for class. I was (not-surprisingly) one of four that were coming to class at the same time, all having taken the same bus over.
By the time I found a seat and figured out what the professor was talking about, I found that I had missed absolutely nothing substantial. Come to think of it, I probably could have missed the whole class and looked at the powerpoint file and not have missed anything. All in a day's work, I suppose.
About halfway through, I remembered that my sister had a doctor’s appointment at 7:15 or some such, so they probably left for that, which meant that it was earlier than 7:20. I also recalled that my mom could come back and pick me up. No problem there either.
With fresh clothes on, I headed downstairs for my usual morning glass of milk to relieve my dry throat. This was on par with my irritated nose; allergies seemed to be worse this morning than normal, but then again, it could just be me. It could’ve been the flowers that my mom brouht home last night, which is what I’ve hence blamed, but it really could just be higher pollen counts for the day.
So getting ready, I began to pack my bag for the day. Remembering that last night I had forgot to charge my laptop, I proceeded to get a quick charge in before I had to go. Of course, I wanted to find out what the charge was, so I turned it on. 76%, it read, so I was happy. I once again remembered about the fact that my mom was coming back, so I decided that I should finish packing and all that. So after stuffing a hefty chemistry book into my messenger bag, I headed upstairs to get the socks that I had forgotten and anything else that I might need.
Passing through the kitchen, I grabbed a kleenex and blew my nose, only to find a large splotch of crimson red on it. Great, just what I need, a nosebleed. So there I stand at the kitchen sink, going through maybe seven tissues before the tide was stemmed. Upstairs I went, gathering the last of my things and finishing up any bathroom related items.
About at this point my mom came back, so we headed off to the clinic to pick my sister up. While heading out of the house, it slowly surfaced that today was the Mock Expo Career Fair, meaning I had to be at the Union at 9:00 in order to have plenty of time to talk to representatives and make it to my 9:30 class. Now, the plan had been for me to take the 8:10 bus from Parkland to campus, arrive a few minutes before 9:00 to catch my breath, and head in. My mom said that this should be no problem, saying that a 7:15 appointment should be well over by 7:45. Well, not quite. It wasn’t till about 8:00 that my sister emerged, which meant that there was no possibility of my taking the 8:10 bus; I’d have to take the 8:42 bus and completely miss Mock Expo, which was btw a requirement for my engineering 100 class.
Well, mom to the rescue, she decided that she’d send both my sister and I to campus. So arriving before 8:30, I had plenty of time to compose my thoughts and take a few deep breaths. And also remember at about 8:55 that I had secretly planned to utilize my mom’s printer and print out my resume.
So off to the Union computer labs I went. I successfully located my resume after a long search of my databases, only to find a more recent copy on my flash drive; oh well, so I proceeded to print it out. Only problem was that there was a long line of people also printing out their resumes. So 9:00 came and went, which was in one sense no problem, because I had till 9:30 to get to class. Thankfully I didn’t have long to walk after grabbing my resume off the printer, and was in the Colonial Room of the Union by 9:15.
The representative I talked to was very nice. She was very understanding of my freshman-noobishness and the like and gave me lots of useful tips. In retrospect, I think she told me stuff I had already known, but it was good to really let it sink in and make me realize that these really were useful things to do -- and that I needed to get on the ball despite her saying that I already was.
By the time I was out the front doors of the Union, it was 9:35. So there you have it, you can all pat me on the back; I was late to my first class today and it’s almost been three weeks. That’s not bad if you ask me. So I grabbed a bus and headed over to Siebel for class. I was (not-surprisingly) one of four that were coming to class at the same time, all having taken the same bus over.
By the time I found a seat and figured out what the professor was talking about, I found that I had missed absolutely nothing substantial. Come to think of it, I probably could have missed the whole class and looked at the powerpoint file and not have missed anything. All in a day's work, I suppose.
Monday, September 11, 2006
indignant villainous lemmings
So this weekend I remembered that I still needed to go to the Chem Annex and do my IVLs for my chem 103 class. Now, this building is really old. I suppose if you're a hardcore chemist, you must really not care about decor or the fact that your flaking paint looks like it's more than a few decades old. Plus, budgets must be somewhat low, so they can't replace the rusty lab tables, sinks, or the plumming that has been around for literally over a century.
In any case, I expected these so-called interactive video lessons to be on par with the rest of the place. When I first heard about these, I imagined having to mosey on upstairs to a dark room where they had one of those really ghetto old movie-reel projectors that one would find sitting in some elementary school falling apart. They would have the videos start like every ten minutes or some such like in museums with rows and rows of chairs facing a white-painted brick wall and you would have to sign in with an old lady with retro glasses from the sixties and scrawl your name on a dog-eared, crumpled piece of paper on a clipboard on a really high counter to record the fact that you actually came and watched the movie that you didn't want to see in the first place. How this is interactive, I dunno, but people tend to add on adjectives to make their whatevers sound interesting and/or mildly appealing.
But no, it wasn't like that. I'm not sure whether to be happy about that or not, but I'm pretty sure, grades aside, that it was a waste of time nonetheless. I headed upstairs to, not a dark room, but a poorly-lit room filled, not with rows of chairs, but a good number of really old computers. The desktops of these computers were not the most appealing either; they appeared to use something like eight-bit colors and the icons were pretty old and pixelated.
The actual lessons weren't all that better. Most of it was a large amount of clicking the "Continue" button. There were a number of times at which you had to enter in some information, such as converting celsius into fahrenheit or milligrams into grams. Not only were these tasks not terribly difficult, you could press a random wrong button and it would tell you the right answer. There were a couple times where you actually had to get it right on the first try because it counted down the number of ones you still had to get right before letting you finish the lesson; other than that, however, you didn't have to think before clicking onward. The content was fairly basic, which I suppose is okay for a first lesson, but I had already "learned" all of that in my chem 102 class, which only increased the triviality of these lessons.
On the plus side, there were a number of videos that featured really flashy reactions. Not that any of them were terribly memorable (well, IIRC, the Aluminium Bromide reaction was pretty cool and burning magnesium is always fun too). The really cool ones had lots of smoke and burning metal in beakers, or, as in one vid, on a plate that was sitting on a carpet square which got impressively stained.
I do, however, have five more of these before the semester is over. I would hope for them to get better, or at least have more vids of stuff exploding or some such, but that might be a bit too much to ask for.
In any case, I expected these so-called interactive video lessons to be on par with the rest of the place. When I first heard about these, I imagined having to mosey on upstairs to a dark room where they had one of those really ghetto old movie-reel projectors that one would find sitting in some elementary school falling apart. They would have the videos start like every ten minutes or some such like in museums with rows and rows of chairs facing a white-painted brick wall and you would have to sign in with an old lady with retro glasses from the sixties and scrawl your name on a dog-eared, crumpled piece of paper on a clipboard on a really high counter to record the fact that you actually came and watched the movie that you didn't want to see in the first place. How this is interactive, I dunno, but people tend to add on adjectives to make their whatevers sound interesting and/or mildly appealing.
But no, it wasn't like that. I'm not sure whether to be happy about that or not, but I'm pretty sure, grades aside, that it was a waste of time nonetheless. I headed upstairs to, not a dark room, but a poorly-lit room filled, not with rows of chairs, but a good number of really old computers. The desktops of these computers were not the most appealing either; they appeared to use something like eight-bit colors and the icons were pretty old and pixelated.
The actual lessons weren't all that better. Most of it was a large amount of clicking the "Continue" button. There were a number of times at which you had to enter in some information, such as converting celsius into fahrenheit or milligrams into grams. Not only were these tasks not terribly difficult, you could press a random wrong button and it would tell you the right answer. There were a couple times where you actually had to get it right on the first try because it counted down the number of ones you still had to get right before letting you finish the lesson; other than that, however, you didn't have to think before clicking onward. The content was fairly basic, which I suppose is okay for a first lesson, but I had already "learned" all of that in my chem 102 class, which only increased the triviality of these lessons.
On the plus side, there were a number of videos that featured really flashy reactions. Not that any of them were terribly memorable (well, IIRC, the Aluminium Bromide reaction was pretty cool and burning magnesium is always fun too). The really cool ones had lots of smoke and burning metal in beakers, or, as in one vid, on a plate that was sitting on a carpet square which got impressively stained.
I do, however, have five more of these before the semester is over. I would hope for them to get better, or at least have more vids of stuff exploding or some such, but that might be a bit too much to ask for.
bus ride
the night is young
the black panther approaches for the feast
no you are deserving of the chair
the rustling trees let out a poignant cry
why, of course i’d like to
i can see the grass blowing in the wind
what keeps you coming back
your permit has expired
from whence have you come
the new driver goes the wrong way
the bird always taking the fast lane
the offer is undeniable
the crash is inevitable
he offers a shave and a slice
the subway ebbs and flows with life and unlife
old men stare with intrigued glances
i can see it all unfolding before my eyes
the emergency comes yet no one uses the exit
white number three strikes the chime
five eleven takes precedence over nine eleven
the time has come for you
backwards the pages fly in their faces
they cannot oppose the change
sorry this seat is reserved
the light impedes all thought
may this conversation pull me out
the funnel plows into the wall
finally meets final
the dawn breaks
the night is still young
the black panther approaches for the feast
no you are deserving of the chair
the rustling trees let out a poignant cry
why, of course i’d like to
i can see the grass blowing in the wind
what keeps you coming back
your permit has expired
from whence have you come
the new driver goes the wrong way
the bird always taking the fast lane
the offer is undeniable
the crash is inevitable
he offers a shave and a slice
the subway ebbs and flows with life and unlife
old men stare with intrigued glances
i can see it all unfolding before my eyes
the emergency comes yet no one uses the exit
white number three strikes the chime
five eleven takes precedence over nine eleven
the time has come for you
backwards the pages fly in their faces
they cannot oppose the change
sorry this seat is reserved
the light impedes all thought
may this conversation pull me out
the funnel plows into the wall
finally meets final
the dawn breaks
the night is still young
Sunday, September 10, 2006
mowing philosophy
There are perks to staying at home when going to college. You get free board and lodging, you eat your parents' delicious cooking (well, in my case, at least), you live in the comforts you've known for the past decade and a half -- things like that. Then there are some not-so-positive consequences.
One of these is having to continue to mow the lawn.
So here I am, mowing the lawn at 5:30 in the evening. It's the height of ragweed season, aka sneezing season, and as I began mowing, the start of my depression cycle. So when added to loud music in order to drown out the roar of the motor, I end up getting mildly philisophical, or at least overly thoughtful. This, mind you, is not the best place to think deep thoughts, nor the normal chain of events, but hey, gotta swim with the river. I will say these mental ponderings were partially brought on by my mild interruption of some sort of family/neighborhood gathering/reunion of baseball-in-the-driveway a couple houses down; I felt kinda bad for entering a raucous motor into their equation of loud screaming and yelling, but hey, I had a lawn to mow and wasn't afraid to tell them if they wanted me to stop.
I started pondering how a person is viewed when mowing, aside from the obvious "oh that guy is mowing." If you think about it, people mowing lawns is actually a very hilarious sight. Here these people are, walking back and forth across their lawns, pushing this rather odd pollutant of a machine in order to satisfy nature and the government while trying to think thoughts of dominance over their maybe-green grass in order to justify their boring and dreaded task. It's like some sort of ritual: the men all come out of their homes at the same time, as if by instinct, to shave off inches of grass from every corner of their lawn.
In addition to these thoughts, my neighbor decided that since I had started the fun, he would join on his riding mower. Now, I usually don't critique people's lawnmowing, and I don't claim to be the master of lawnmowing, but his style was more than a little interesting. So here I am, emptying the grass catcher, and in between the music I hear in the distance some vague semblance of the on-off-on-off of a motor. I had earlier noticed him circling the lawn, making large streaking mow lines across his lawn, going in and out of the trees. No problem, it makes the mowing maybe a bit less monotone and divides the work into smaller parts.
Now, because he was on a rider, he had the option of toggling the blade movement. I'll admit, it is kinda fun to play with the switch/button/thingy, but not particularly when mowing. Apparently getting the lawn mown is much more interesting when circling around the a tree, only mowing on one side at a time. Maybe it's just more convenient when on a rider to avoid going to one end and making a sharp 180, but hey, this was just kinda silly looking, not to mention inefficient.
Which ends the mowing train of thoughts. So when I finished mowing about two-thirds of the lawn (my dad told me not to do part of it because he sprayed grass and weed killer or some such and bagging that might not be such a good idea), I went inside to a hot steamy shower and grilled steak, so it's all good.
One of these is having to continue to mow the lawn.
So here I am, mowing the lawn at 5:30 in the evening. It's the height of ragweed season, aka sneezing season, and as I began mowing, the start of my depression cycle. So when added to loud music in order to drown out the roar of the motor, I end up getting mildly philisophical, or at least overly thoughtful. This, mind you, is not the best place to think deep thoughts, nor the normal chain of events, but hey, gotta swim with the river. I will say these mental ponderings were partially brought on by my mild interruption of some sort of family/neighborhood gathering/reunion of baseball-in-the-driveway a couple houses down; I felt kinda bad for entering a raucous motor into their equation of loud screaming and yelling, but hey, I had a lawn to mow and wasn't afraid to tell them if they wanted me to stop.
I started pondering how a person is viewed when mowing, aside from the obvious "oh that guy is mowing." If you think about it, people mowing lawns is actually a very hilarious sight. Here these people are, walking back and forth across their lawns, pushing this rather odd pollutant of a machine in order to satisfy nature and the government while trying to think thoughts of dominance over their maybe-green grass in order to justify their boring and dreaded task. It's like some sort of ritual: the men all come out of their homes at the same time, as if by instinct, to shave off inches of grass from every corner of their lawn.
In addition to these thoughts, my neighbor decided that since I had started the fun, he would join on his riding mower. Now, I usually don't critique people's lawnmowing, and I don't claim to be the master of lawnmowing, but his style was more than a little interesting. So here I am, emptying the grass catcher, and in between the music I hear in the distance some vague semblance of the on-off-on-off of a motor. I had earlier noticed him circling the lawn, making large streaking mow lines across his lawn, going in and out of the trees. No problem, it makes the mowing maybe a bit less monotone and divides the work into smaller parts.
Now, because he was on a rider, he had the option of toggling the blade movement. I'll admit, it is kinda fun to play with the switch/button/thingy, but not particularly when mowing. Apparently getting the lawn mown is much more interesting when circling around the a tree, only mowing on one side at a time. Maybe it's just more convenient when on a rider to avoid going to one end and making a sharp 180, but hey, this was just kinda silly looking, not to mention inefficient.
Which ends the mowing train of thoughts. So when I finished mowing about two-thirds of the lawn (my dad told me not to do part of it because he sprayed grass and weed killer or some such and bagging that might not be such a good idea), I went inside to a hot steamy shower and grilled steak, so it's all good.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
block blogger
Alrighty, so here is my obligatory me-gots-a-blog-now post. I really don't feel like explaining the title right now (mainly because of the inordinate amounts of nuanced meanings; thinking about it too long can jumble both your brain and the brain of the person next to you). No worries, though; I'll try to do that within the next couple days, so just keep hanging for a while.
I do, however, feel this strange need -- a rather absurd one, at that -- to explain the nature of my blog; an author shouldn't be required to explain his mental wanderings. In any case, I am not convinced (despite the convincing by people around the globe) that my life has enough going on in it to make interesting/long enough posts. Not to fear: this means that posts might be filled with random thoughts and the like; this, perhaps, will be my attempt to fit in with the wacky nature of the intarweb. Hmm. I don't plan 0n making them necessarily obscure (though that is oh so terribly fun); on the other hand, don't expect them to be necessarily connected to the happenings of my life (though that is also fun to do in sneaky obscure ways).
So, whatever you do, tell your friends about the new blog on the block. Drink to your health. Attack people with baskets of cabbage. Join my fanclub. On second thought...well, nevermind.
I do, however, feel this strange need -- a rather absurd one, at that -- to explain the nature of my blog; an author shouldn't be required to explain his mental wanderings. In any case, I am not convinced (despite the convincing by people around the globe) that my life has enough going on in it to make interesting/long enough posts. Not to fear: this means that posts might be filled with random thoughts and the like; this, perhaps, will be my attempt to fit in with the wacky nature of the intarweb. Hmm. I don't plan 0n making them necessarily obscure (though that is oh so terribly fun); on the other hand, don't expect them to be necessarily connected to the happenings of my life (though that is also fun to do in sneaky obscure ways).
So, whatever you do, tell your friends about the new blog on the block. Drink to your health. Attack people with baskets of cabbage. Join my fanclub. On second thought...well, nevermind.
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