2/25/10 (i.e. yesterday)

So, I finally got around to charting out the next three years of my life, as deemed by my Intro to the English Major class. I learned (after carefully shuffling requirements around) that a major, two minors, and those blasted liberal studies make it tricky to do said careful shuffling.


Then I remembered the Honors College was registering at midnight and had an "Ohshit" moment. Two hours later I had learned that either the system had not been informed of my preference for morning classes on MWF, or they had and were actively working against me. I'm still slightly extremely bitter about it, so we'll just go with the later.

.

I now have an 18-hour schedule. Am I happy with it? Hell no, but it is what it is and I can't really do anything about it. To be brutally honest (as I tend to be, of course), it's miraculous that I managed to puzzle together this impossibly intricate depiction of my future.

^This is what my schedule really wants to say to me.

ON ARISTOTLE

I was in a foul mood yesterday, in part completely because of the aforementioned disaster occurrence. Reading Aristotle when cranky is a very bad idea. I do not recommend it. My experience mainly involved me reading (i.e. growing more and more confused/skeptical of Aristotle's right to exist) by blinking dazedly at pages, one by one, for five minutes until I realized it was all complete bullshit (as philosophy tends to be). I then began to tear into it with vicious satisfaction (though not literally, it's a rental). Part of me was itching to highlight this reading article composed of whatthefuckery in hot pink (I don't know, it seemed insulting to me...stop judging me), but I didn't want to waste the ink.

Some of you might be shocked. Some of you might be mildly insulted (but that seems to be a trend). "It's a classic!" people could (and probably would will say). "You're an English major, how could you hate the glory and intelligence that is Aristotle?" Before you start judging me, let me make it easier on you.

I DON'T LIKE SHAKESPEARE.

Gasp.

How dare I call myself an English major! If I were a proper English major, I would slavishly worship the ground these plays pages upon which his glorious plays were lovingly printed on. But I have the right to like what I like and hold disdain for overemphasized popular celebrities (Miley Cyrus, anyone?). Can I back this up with legit reasons? No, not really, but I can give you my reasons.

1. He is severely overrated. (Yes, that is a justifiable reason.)
2. People need to stop acting like he was so damn creative and able to capture human nature (Is that right? I'm not entirely sure what people who actually care about him trick themselves into thinking believe in his crap brilliance.
3. HE DID NOT INVENT THE WORD ASSASSIN. Look in the dictionary. Does it say "Origin: Shakespeare"?! NO IT DOES NOT. It came from hassassin, which is from the Arabic language.*
4. (A continuation of #2) He wrote about the human experience and captured what it means to be human/mortal/whatever. But, my darlings, let's be rational: HE GOT THERE FIRST. Self-explanatory.

Now, I'm moving on before I completely destroy my English major reputation. 

THIS WEEK

 (up until this point, which was Wednesday) has been interesting. Or, at the very least, busy. In a nutshell:

• Monday: Three classes, first tutoring appointment, MIDNIGHT SPAGHETTI!
• Tuesday: Advising Day, no classes, planning the next three years of my life, having plans ruined by registration, etc.
• Wednesday: SNARK ATTACK. Jericho's internet fucked up, Intro to Peer Tutoring was shitty as hell, classes were relatively decent otherwise

If I knew anything about software, I'd be unstoppable. 

Or so says David. (And yes, I am aware that this is becoming so long that I don't want to type it up typing it up is ridiculous, but suck it up.)

Moving on (or back to the subject, at least): My complete and utter retardation in regards to software was incredibly obvious. 


The full explanation will might come at a later point, when I'm less likely to kick babies (or want to, at least) at the mere thought.

I blame Microsoft.

This is what Troubleshooting essentially told me.

Pro Writing major wrote majorly today.

Mainly, I tweaked my humanity essay and wrote a poem, but the fact remains: I WROTE SOMETHING CREATIVE!

On a closing note, these are the five songs I can't stop listening to (metaphorically):

1. "Hawkbot" - Forever the Sickest Kids (with headphones it's like sex for my ears)
2. "Hell To Sell" - The Audition (his voice IS sex, irrefutably)
3. "I AM Who I AM" - The Cab (again, most likely due to headphones)
4. "Spinning" - Jack's Mannequin (just...guh)
5. "Take Me As I Am" - FM Static (which was stuck in my head when I wrote this...)

And for anyone wondering where "Tiffany Blews" is, that goes without saying.

Accurate depiction of life, eh?

*How did I learn this? Well, from Dan Brown, who is The Ultimate Source of All Wisdom, Knowledge, and Insight. Duh.

Religion vs. Atheism is equivalent to Modern Warfare 2 vs. Halo

It’s been a long time since I faced judgment for my stance as an atheist. I’d forgotten the sheer unfairness of it, and it always leads me to the same question:

Why can Christians judge me for my lack of belief, but are immediately offended when I ask about the presence of theirs?

Who are they to criticize me? Truthfully, I could care less about their religion. I don’t mean this negatively or crudely, I just cannot see why it matter. In fact, to be quite honest, I’m happy for them. Some people, most people need something to believe in so they can ground themselves in a world that oftentimes doesn’t make sense. I respect that.

However, not everyone needs that. I don’t need that.

It’s sad that I have to (in a way) hide that I’m an atheist because I’ve faced irrational criticism from people that don’t even know me. I’m not embarrassed, mind you; it just gets tiring, constantly defending myself. It’s not worth it, this pointless debate that only breeds hatred and discontent.

They won’t stop believing, I won’t start, so why bother? People should be allowed to believe, or not believe, whatever they want. I know the world isn’t perfect (people certainly are not), but this something intangible and implacable.

This (somewhat) leads to my next question: Wouldn’t it be more offensive to the very concept of religion if I pretended to harbor a faith that I didn’t truly possess? I can assure you that I’m not an atheist because I’m following a trend (worst fad ever, that’s like being a dictator because Hitler made it look cool*), I just…do not believe. If I wanted attention, I’d pick something less serious and (apparently) offensive.

So, a point I want to make (or several):

1. I do not find religion laughable
2.  I do have morals. It’s silly to think only religion provides them.
3. Telling me I’m going to Hell is like telling me I shouldn’t love Halo because Modern Warfare 2 is prettier (and I can be rational and intelligent about this, considering Modern Warfare 2 was both released two years later-and I know how far technology has progressed, trust me-and was shot natively in standard HD, whereas Bungie chose to sacrifice those gorgeous crisp edges in exchange for superior lighting/shading effects, amongst other things). Will your opinion change my mind, even if you present a convincing argument? (Hint: I’m addicted to HD graphics, but I still love Halo more.)

No. I can’t explain why I love Halo, but I do. I’ve read the books, played the games, own the special edition Xbox, read through Halopedia for fun, have the soundtrack on my iPod (and set as the main ringtones on my phone), name my plethora of electronics after locations in the Halo universe, insist on having Halo backgrounds for aforementioned electronics, read the Bungie weekly updates religiously (no pun intended), get excited over sound clips of the weapons from Reach (zomfg, the new assault rifle sounds fierce), possess all 20-plus podcasts, and the majority of the videos on my iPod are Halo 3 machinimas.

Call it obsession, but to me it’s devotion. I love Halo, and though I respect Infinity Ward and Modern Warfare 2, it will never hold a candle to Bungie and Halo.

Now, how does this relate to religion vs. atheism? Well, let’s pretend Modern Warfare 2 is religion while Halo is atheism (and don’t you dare get offended at my analogy, this is my essay!). As I said before, I respect Modern Warfare 2 and religion (side note: does this make Infinity Ward the equivalent of God? Just sayin’.) But, for reasons I cannot quite articulate, I infinitely (another pun?!) prefer Halo. Sure, I personally think Halo is full of win and Call of Duty is constructed purely of fail (see: Hewlett-Packard vs. Dell/ATI vs. NVIDIA/Intel vs. AMD – and the first are the best, for those who know nothing of technology), but people have the right to their own opinion (and I’m totally kidding about Call of Duty being made of fail…kind of).

The moral of this story (analogy, I suppose) is we’re all different, which is our right simply by virtue of being human. Stop judging me because I’m me. Why should you care because I’m a Halo fangirl/atheist? I’m also a writer/dreamer/optimistic idealist/best friend/everyday person. My interests (obsessions…) are all that separate me from you, and us from everybody else. Try to remember that. Thanks.

*Thank you, Joe. 

RambleramblerambleLIST!

Today I wrote an essay comparing the religion vs. atheism debate to the brand war between Call of Duty and Halo. WHY AM I SO AMAZING?

Anyways.

This past week (or so) has been hectic. For example:
-I changed my relationship status (i.e. started dating) on Facebook to "In a relationship with Aaron Boyles," and we all know Facebook-official is THE MOST OFFICIAL and is BETTER THAN MARRIAGE

TACKLE!

-I was incredibly happy (still am!)

-Played through almost half of the Halo 3 campaign with Aaron
-Gained a Hot Pocket Sex Buddy, in addition to my lesbian lover, PTBFFL, and (legit) boyfriend

Hot Pocket Sex Buddy (aka Lexi)

Lesbian Lover (aka Sam). She's the gorgeous, photogenic one wearing the hat.

PTBFFL (aka David)

Boyfriend (aka Aaron)

-Gained a cell phone named Franziska Scheitzeneder ("Scheitz" for short) that is better than I'd expected (I adore haptic touch, btw)
-Made a Samwich
-Annotated Prufrock (okay, not that significant since I do that in my spare time...)
-Read the literary criticism approach for Heart of Darkness at 1:30 in the morning (deconstruction <3)
-DID MY LAUNDRY.
-Got a new roommate that I think I'll get along with!
-Elaborated on teh quote board
-Wore formal wear (best laundry day outfit EVER, and we're disregarding that I still didn't do my laundry until three days later)
-Created a life-size AIM chat box out of printer paper, post-its, scotch tape, and twine

It is beast.

-Found my Koss earbuds (bass response wins, always)
-Made a cookie-cake that became an ice cream sandwich

So. Effing. Good.

-Ate THE MOST DELICIOUS PAST OF ALL TIME thanks to my Italian lesbian lover
-Finally got that damn pidgey (must obtain pictures...-makes mental note-)
-Wore heels and make-up (this is incredibly significant, and painful as hell)
-Was called a drug addict (yes, I'm serious)
-Went exploring with David, Sam, and Aaron
-Visited a sketch tunnel (and was turned away by a creeper)

Dare they enter?

-Rearranged/cleaned teh room
-Had an amazing week!

Okay, now some elaborations for things that need elaboration:

1. Have I mentioned that I DID MY LAUNDRY?! Because I totally did, though it cost me $4.50 and over two hours of my life. (Deceptive laundry basket strikes again!)See, I'd been putting it off for...two weeks (maybe?), and apparently clothes continue to pile up after the hamper is full (who knew?). Again, laundry basket is deceptive. And magical.

2. Robert Downey Jr. Shirtless Robert Downey Jr (and that's all I need to say). Photos, anyone?

I would LOVE to.

3. Umm...on love. I've been meaning to comment on this for awhile, partly because this Facebook page exists called "You're 12. You're not in love." or something. (Also, I might have joined it...I have a bit of a "Become a fan" problem.) Anyways, that irks me. Love, I think, is put into a box and locked up, only to be let out after a respectable period of time, upon the condition that it must be nice and reasonably executed (and I don't mean killed, you violent creatures). 

Should love be so clearly defined? I don't think so. I think there are many forms of love, and I think people can fall in love in a week or a month or a year. Who are we to say "You aren't in love"? What is our standard of measure? When does lust or affection earn the right to be labeled as love?

I know I'm an idealist. I'm also aware that I love easily and deeply. Is that wrong? Is my love worth any less because I give it away so easily? Falling in love, whether it's with friends in term of friendship (maybe I'm a bit too controversial, saying I fall in love with my friends, but I do love to offend people with simple statements! also, pun not intended but humorous :D) or romantic relationships. In essence, defining or putting restrictions on love is morally wrong. Y'know, like throwing people off a life boat or the storyline of Finding Nemo. 

Love comes in all shapes, sizes and languages <3

4. On a lighter note, I have (theoretically) two one tutoring appointments today. My first ones. Back-to-back. I am nervous (still true!). Of course, I wrote out this entry by hand in my American Government & Politics class, which is primarily notes (I'm going to have carpal tunnel when I'm twenty...it hurts so bad!), to ensure this gets written. The internets are shiny and distracting, so I find it hard to write when I could waste time doing unproductive things! I got out at 11:00 and the first one is was supposed to be at noon. So, I (originally thought) I won't wouldn't get to type this until afterwards, so just know that I'm (still) nervous. I shall insert my first experience later. DUNDUNDUN.

That's all for now. Next post will be (hopefully) about deconstruction in Heart of Darkness (aka, me being a good, nerdy English major).

Fear the mamba. Respect the mamba.

Session Start>>>

(Indirectly: Watched Kill Bill several nights ago.)

>Aaron posted about Inglourious Basterds
>Eli Roth
>Quentin Tarantino
>Kill Bill
>Black mamba
>HOLYFUCKINGSHIT, black mamba!

And that is all.

For those of you lesser folks who know not of this fearsome predator, the all-knowing, wise, clear-eyed (and this is complete bullshit, but whatever) Wikipedia will fill you in:

When feeling threatened, the black mamba will raise the anterior part of its body and splay out the neck - somewhat like a cobra - hissing and gaping to show the black lining of the mouth. It can rear up one-third of its body off the ground, allowing it to reach heights of approximately four feet. If cornered, the black mamba usually delivers multiple strikes, injecting its potent neuro- and cardio-toxin with each strike. Unlike most other snakes, the black mamba attacks the body and/or head. The bite of a black mamba injects enough venom to kill 20–25 grown men. However, black mambas would rather avoid confrontation with humans.

The bite of a black mamba delivers about 100–120 mg of venom with a maximum of up to 400 mg. Just 10-15 mg of black mamba venom is enough to kill an adult human.

A newly hatched black mamba is approximately 51cm long and is a grayish-green color. It has fully developed venom glands and is dangerous within just minutes of birth. 

 So...enough said. Seriously, holyfuckingshit. Also, for those who want to be clearly disturbed and have never seen this, how about a baby playing with a fucking cobra?

And finally, a fun fact that I did not know: the anaconda gives birth to live young. Be amazed, and slightly grossed out. Ignore the piranha bit.

A post?!

Happy Friday, everyone.

I'm just going to conveniently forget all of the awesome stuff I had intended to post for the past several days (except the saved draft I just posted) and move forward. If I have a nostalgic moment for something that seems random...well, it's actually prolly still random. However, it could also be something from the past week that was intended to be on here and never made it.

First of all: I GOT SIX HOURS OF SLEEP LAST NIGHT. (Thank you, Alex and Aaron, for letting me sleep on the futon. I love you.)

I am also wanting to write, I just don't know what.

Second, I love my English class. (Insert gushy for-once-I-like-being-an-English-major speech.) This might in part be due to my unusual level of alertness (Again: I GOT SIX HOURS OF SLEEP LAST NIGHT. Did I emphasize that it was a WEEKDAY? And that I got SIX HOURS? Not TWO HOURS OF SLEEP. SIXSIXSIX.), but today has just seemed awesome. I took two scraps of knowledge from it:

1. "Leonardo da Vinci" sounds remarkably like "intervention"
2. The crusades were merely ways to help unemployed knights get gold stars on their permanent spiritual record

I'm also considering making a group on Facebook for said English class, calling it Fenton's Class, and therefore providing a place for people who pay attention and actually catch the assigments (coughMEcough) to help out those who do not (coughAARONcoughEVERYONEELSEcough).
On a side note that is completely related...Sam and I realized the only class we're scared to skip is Fenton's.

Third, I'm getting a new phone. Sometime this week. It is a long, emotionally complicated tale of romance and treachery (or perhaps that's just my relationship with my old phone, not these recent events...), so I shall simply say my lovely BlackBerry Curve 8330 (codename: Sanghelios) is being replaced with a Samsung Instinct s30 (codename: Franziska Scheitzeneder). I'm trying to remain optimistic. It is very, very hard.

For a very important Number Four, DECONSTRUCTION. This was a literary criticism technique we covered in Fenton's Class that I feel I can understand 25% of the time and try to remember I can understand (because I have lost the ability, clearly) 74.5% of the time. The 0.5% is that part of me which will never comprehend this. To best explain deconstruction...well, there is no way. Succinctly, it is breaking down a literary text and pointing out the possible meanings, particularly those that contradict each other. The point is that there is no one true meaning to a literary text, and if you think you've found one true meaning you're wrong and imprisoned in a frame of thought that was pushed onto you by society. Or something. It's awesome.

If you think this is too hard on literary criticism, read the Wikipedia article on deconstruction.

Fifth, I suppose I'll go ahead and tackle integrity. It was initially brought up because of this philosophy reading we had, written by Bernard Williams. It tears into utilitarianism, claiming it's an attack on integrity. I can see where he's coming from, but it's a weak argument in several ways and I (for some reason I cannot quite explain) am bothered by his definition of integrity. There are, of course, several ways to define it, but I prefer to use two excerpts from V for Vendetta (the movie), said by Valerie Page, that explain integrity far better than I ever could:

Our integrity sells for so little, but it is all we really have. It is the very last inch of us, but within that inch, we are free.

 and

I shall die here. Every inch of me will perish. Every inch but one. An inch... It is small, and fragile, and it is the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away. We must never let them take it from us. I hope that, whoever you are, you escape this place. I hope that the world turns and things get better. But I hope most of all that you understand that even though I will never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you.

That is integrity.

For now, fin. I'll be posting my ramblings from the last week soon, and I've actually started it so -fingers crossed-, right?

P.S.: I have no idea where this came from, but I stumbled across it in Chrome's history and it makes me giggle. 

this would have been posted Monday.

Another draft that will never be completed. Edits made today (2/12/10) will be in bold. I'll also go ahead and cross out the original statements for the super dense.

Crazy insomnia is crazy. Without my typical artificial supplements, sleep does not come easily to me. This is my reasoning for staying up until...almost seven yesterday morning. No, after seven. The night before I managed to get in bed by...almost six. The tracking of my ADD internet roamings shall be posted later, when I've had the time and motivation to go through Chrome's history. Time and motivation notwithstanding, it was too long ago for me to sufficiently capture that. Besides, I had plenty more over the week (which will get posted, somewhat!), and there will always be more coming.

Saturday night/Sunday morning was interesting. I played truth or dare Jenga for the first time and eventually broke my embargo on doing dares. Translated, I vaulted over a sofa and kissed Sam. Ooh, daring! I then stayed up until seven. Again, roamings shall be posted at a later time. See absurdly long statement above.

Yesterday I woke up close to 5, took a shower, ate with Alex and Aaron, went to the study to (finally) do my English homework with Alex, was eventually joined by Sam, we went back to their room, and the night (morning really...) ended with us crashing on their futon. Busybusybusy. But we didn't get busy, for those fellow gutterminds who saw that in the entirely wrong light.

(Also, I have no idea how I'm functioning right now.) Still totally true. I have no idea how I do it.

So far, today has been...interesting. I didn't fully wake up until halfway through my third class, American Government and Politics, which is absurdly late even for me. Normally I'm coherent by the end of my first, Western Moral Traditions, or by the beginning of my second, Research, Literary Criticism, and British Lit. My sleep schedule is now completely fucked up. Still is. Doubt it will ever change.

There are two things I want to briefly rant about before I finish this up: integrity, and deconstruction...or philosophy and my English class, respectively. Integrity I might get to at another time...okay, I definitely will. Deconstruction coming up soon.

(abrubtly) end post.

Crippling headache is crippling.

Is it possible to have such a massive headache?

So, my genius idea for the day was to go through the thousands of pictures I have saved on my laptop and completely reorganize them. Nice, neat little folders with nice, neat titles and nice, neat sub-folders. I did not think this through and realize nice and neat are roughly equivalent to the largest headache I've had in...weeks. This was not a good outlet for me to channel my OCD through.

Anyways.

Today I was writing a poem (it isn't finished) that wasn't in first-person. Yes, it is angsty. Yes, it relates to current drama. And yes, I did start writing it in first-person, but I stopped myself. It's an odd switch from using my four-word prompts and (usually) third-person approach, which made for damn good (if somewhat detached) storytelling. Then again, poetry is supposed to be about releasing your inner emotions onto paper as a way to vent, so for once I'm doing it right. Theoretically.

My headache is killing me. Were the folders and sub-folders (and even the occasional sub-sub-folder) worth this torture?

For once I didn't ponder morality and humanity throughout my classes today, though I was kinda busy studying for my first exam of the semester. Considering I've pretty much had these philosophical thoughts every day for weeks (or at least until the earthquake in Haiti...which was a few weeks ago), ironically after my philosophy class, this is worth noting. I think my head hurts too much right now to think about my own existence, which is both good and bad. Having an existential crisis is mentally exhausting, but it doesn't change the fact that the area right behind my eyes is crippling my thought processes.

I hate when I hear a little pop (usually when listening to music, which says bad things about my iTunes and processor) that sounds damn similar to the Facebook Chat one. It's like the ghost-vibrations after keeping your phone on vibrate for a few days (you know what I'm talking about, don't deny it). It might help if I didn't always have a tab set aside for Facebook, a sure sign of my addiction.

I still love Fall Out Boy and Tsavo more, of course.

Right now there are a ton of things I should be doing, but I'm having problems focusing now. Homework (though it's the weekend, so that's not a pressing priority until Sunday night...which really means Monday morning), my quote boards, getting out of my room, eating for the first time today, doing something that doesn't involve staring at an absurdly bright screen and making my eyes hurt even more.

I think it's best to end this now and do something productive, sans computer. We'll see how long this lasts.