I ACTUALLY REALLY HAVE TO GO TO BED

Because my mother is going to be up to run in about half an hour, and because I got maybe five hours of sleep last night, and because I'm going to have to be up earlyish (compared to a reasonable amount of sleep and/or my school sleeping habits), and because whatever I'm tired.

But I just wanted to say that I am having a much easier time adjusting to being at home than I thought I would have.

That is probably because all I've done is watch 2/3rds of a season of "Psych" and 5/6ths of a season of "Bones." I've knit most of a sock, though. That's something. And I've gotten my tension back to its pre-finals state. My knitting tension, I mean. I have physical evidence of my finals stress in that the mitten I knit at school is almost half an inch smaller around than the mitten I knit at home over Thanksgiving.

That's probably the same reason my dad got one sock, knit at school, that fit his foot and one sock, knit at home (watching "House," over the summer), that was at least an inch bigger (in all dimensions).

So, since I'm now knitting a second sock, I figured I should probably carefully de-stress before knitting a whole sock that wouldn't fit on my foot. I had to pay a lot of attention to how tightly I was knitting at first, but it's become a lot more natural.

I still need a damn backrub, though. But that's mostly my posture.

My grades are all in. I'm fairly pleased. Programming in particular--I wasn't lying on Facebook, I seriously thought that B was an impossibility. I guess I hadn't calculated for my "class participation" component? But a good, solid B... That I can get behind. Even if I can't program to save my life.

B- in Calculus is good enough,

And just so Scooter knows, today's Groupon could be $9 for a half dozen cupcakes from Lola Cookies and Treats, in Leesburg. (Or, $17 for a whole dozen. The half dozen's usually $18; the whole dozen's usually $35.) You buy the Groupon, save it for a while, print the coupon, take it to the place, redeem it. Everything's paid online unless you go over the value of the coupon, in which case you pay in person. Quite convenient, really.

Anyway. More like 20 minutes now. Bed for me. Night-night.

I RECEIVED AN A IN A CLASS. FOR ONCE.

I do not have the finest of GPAs. It's not terrible, as in it's not "academic probation," and it's improving, but it's not the finest of GPAs. Its plumage is far from resplendent. But, again, it is improving. I got an A. I like As. Too bad I only get As in classes that are stupid and easy. Oh well. Hopefully next semester my classes will be such that I can get As (or B+s or something) without wanting to kill myself. I'm not sure, though. Having that many math classes (i.e. three, two of which are supposed to be fairly difficult and one of which is supposed to include a lot of work despite being fairly easy) might b terribly terribly stressful and upsetting. But hopefully not! I should be able to get a pretty easy A in Intro to Education, and ballet couldn't possibly be too bad, right? I could finally have a GOOD semester. Maybe.

I hate people who refuse to accept that if you don't know what you're doing then you don't deserve credit for it.

I'm so happy. I'm so happy. In all likelihood, I will not fail this class. I will not fail. I would like to get a 60% on the final. Then I could have a 60% in the class. In this class, a 50% is a failing grade. I love this man. This man is my favorite man. Is 60% possible? I do not know if 60% is possible. I do not know 60% of the material. Regardless, I'm so happy. I say this with a straight face, but it is true. I am so happy. Now I can truly say that I have loved this man like Mary loved Joseph: a little bit at first, not at all as trouble arrives, and then nigh-infinitely once it became apparent that he will not have me stoned to death for being what amounts to an adulteress. Adultery is a metaphor for not understanding electricity, by the way. In case that wasn't clear. And being stoned to death is a metaphor for taking this class. Because the class is so painful. In case that wasn't clear.

I'm so happy.

ETA: Giving birth to Jesus is a metaphor for taking this final. Just for the record. IN A STABLE. IN THE COLD. WITH LOTS OF PAIN.

I FUCKING HATE PROGRAMMING

I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and 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sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it. I hate programming, it sucks, and I suck at it.

BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA

From George (a tit).

PRETEND THIS IS A BLOG POST, OKAY?

Last night, I successfully completed the work that I intended to complete. If I had started earlier, it would have been a lot less painful, and then today would be much less painful. Too bad I'm an idiot.

If only I had seen fit to actually write in my lab notebook throughout the semester, then I might not have been up until 5:30 last night copying everything I put into Excel into a stupid composition book. I still don't understand the point of them, since we turn in lab reports anyway and he wants all our lab report data to be fancy (definitely typed) Excel sheets and it's a waste of time and paper to make us get a special notebook just to write down things we're going to have to enter into Excel anyway. Anyway, if I were only a decent person when it comes to following directions, everything would be nicer. Too bad I'm an idiot.

Right now, Calculus is the only class I don't hate, which is a nice change from this time last semester, when, honestly, Calculus was probably the only class I did hate, except I guess Astronomy. Seriously, last semester's finals time was bad or whatever in terms of staying up late (Hi, Western Civs!), but it wasn't just constant torture like right now. I'm hoping that in the spring, my classes won't be too awful, but I think I would have to change them in order for that to be the case. I should probably be switching Linear Algebra to next fall and going with another real class instead, because three math classes sounds a TINY bit hellish, but at the same time, what would I take instead. If you guessed "NOTHING," you're on the right track.

Right, so, yeah. Last night wasn't so bad, but I also shouldn't say that until I've gotten through my Physics lab final, which is in an hour and a half.

But at least I got a ridiculous hat out of last night? So that's good.

Tonight is more homework times, this time MasteringPhysics online stuff, but I think I need to watch a couple MIT lectures on it before I'll be able to do it--or maybe the book will be actually helpful? Hard to say. Anyway, after MasteringPhysics, it's time to start my Python project that's due Saturday [again, too bad I'm an idiot], and I'll be working on that until I turn it in. After midnight Saturday night, I have a couple hours of pleasantness (I'll probably watch Star Wars?) and then bed, and then constant lecture-watching as a method of Physics studying, followed by a couple lectures on Calculus. MAYBE I can have a day off on Sunday, but I'll have to think carefully, because I really don't want to be as clueless on the Physics final as I was on my last test (53, after curve, woo). 

Notes for one sec, relevant to Kristina and FRLN class

If you had separate attachments that you sent in for the scholarly review thing, I downloaded that, so I have it, but I returned all your scholarly review to you; try to answer the questions that I gave last time.

What I said was, you don't need to rewrite your scholarly review, just add on. Pay attention to those questions; they're in the announcements and the course content.

Resubmit when you're ready.

Some people, who did great, I've given their grades, grades are in the gradebook. Otherwise, add to it, you can get a few more points, if you don't have time, don't worry about it. Grades out of 50.

Everything is due by the day of the final, so 12/14. The more that's in earlier, the better for me and for you, but whatever.

Anyway, so, yeah, life sucks from now until I go home, and then for about two weeks after that. Woo, finals.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKING FUCKERS FUCK

Today, I was going to email my professor and tell him my group had disappeared. Instead, I opened up my email to find one FROM my group.

This is good:
IFF (shitty group) >> (no group)

(>> means "much greater than")

This is bad:
IF (shitty group) = (way behind)(irresponsible)(a bunch of dicks)

Everything in my life, stop fucking me over RIGHT NOW, please, I would really appreciate it.

FUCK I HAVEN'T BLOGGED IN A WEEK

Man fuck this shit. Seriously. I'm a terrible blogger, I'm absolutely terrible at it. I'm not funny, and I never remember to update. So why fucking blog?

Oh, right, you guys. Because every time Kate updates, I feel all guilty for neglecting you, helloblogtime.

Speaking of neglecting things, hey, George, how many words do you still have to write before Tuesday night? Sucker! This is why quitters win.

Anyway... This coming week is going to be full of hell for me, just like it will for everyone else. Unless some of you actually did work over break? Ha. I know, right? The only work I did was knitting a mitten (except half a thumb) and a "cowl" (which does not look like that; it's blue-green and not as wide; also, I usually call it a "neck scarf thingy"; I will tell the knit-nernet that I used that pattern, but really I just used it as a guide for how many stitches to cast on--I didn't even use the size needles it called for, or indeed look at the pattern after casting on, instead opting to knit until the yarn was gone, i.e. I was tired of knitting, so, like 5 hours later, which makes me mildly distressed at how long things take to knit, even though it was a project that took just an afternoon--if one afternoon is about 5 hours of continuous knitting, how many hours will these mittens have eaten, when one took me one day plus two evenings?) and sitting on the couch. Sorry for the huge parenthetical. If I'd been willing to de-parenthesize, it wouldn't have been a huge run-on, but I was not willing to relinquish my parallel parenthetical structure (see it?). Parallel structure is one of my very favorite literary devices.

I also made a pie, but it wasn't very good. Friggin' disappointing recipes. I was supposed to make "caramel," but following the directions only gave me some, like, sugar covered in butter. Which... I mean... The pie tasted fine, you know, totally edible for a sugar+butter+apples+cranberries+pie crust concoction (which are hard to screw up--you can actually make a really tasty pie by taking some apples and cranberries, putting them in a pie crust with a little sugar, and baking it for 40 minutes; pies are tasty and nice and easy to make and eat), it was just really disappointing for having been a lot of work. Also I burned myself! Butter gets really hot, and when you stir it really intensely because you don't want that smokey smell to continue, sometimes it flies out of the pan and you say "ow." So, yeah, disappointing but not terrible. But it was drastically overshadowed by CHEESECAKE. Which my sister makes. I had a slice and a half of pie and a piece of cheesecake and my life was good.

Anyway... Yeah. Now I have blogged. I'll write about all the cancer I'm going to want this week at the time when I actually want it. Ugh.

Also, I have heard to Johnny Cash at Fulsom Prison probably 30 times since I've been home. I should maybe stop leaving it on "repeat" all night while I sleep. I mean, I only know the whole thing almost by heart, you know. Nothing too crazy. Just... I mean. Yes. Too crazy. It's one thing to know all the songs, but to know all the songs plus all the interjections is a little nuts. "Nobody at all ever climbed that wall, but I'm gonna be the first," and then blah blah, eventually, "There's never been a man ever shook this can, but I knew a man who tried: the newspapers called it a jailbreak plan, but I know it was suicide." And then we lead into "Dirty Old Egg-Sucking Dog," with a cute little thing about how it's a love song, Johnny Cash is such a... Seriously. Crazy. Me. Yes. Totally.

Goodnight. (Also did I mention my sleep schedule is TOTALLY FUCKED FOREVER?)

HELLO BLOG TIME IT'S BEEN A WHILE

Yeah, I know it's been a while. I'm a terrible blogger.

I finished my sock. I have not cast on for the second one. I'm waiting on yarn so I can cast on simultaneously for the first of a really cute pair of mittens and the second sock. I'm not really sure how I like the pattern of the socks, as in the way they fit, but I made the whole first one, and it's pretty and comfortable and I have way too many (i.e. one) half-finished pairs of socks anyway. So that's that. I have to decide what I'll take to KNIT NIGHT ON WEDNESDAY WOOO if my mitten yarn doesn't come tomorrow, which it probably won't. I guess I'll just take my color-changing shawl that I'm STILL working on, or I guess I could cast on for that second sock. Whatever. I'll take the shawl because I don't have to pay too much attention to it, and because the lady who puts together the yarn will be there and she's really nice and so she should get to see that I'm making something great out of her yarn. I just have to be careful to take THIS shawl and NOT that other skein (rhymes with "vein") of yarn that I want to knit something out of. NO. BAD GEORGE. DON'T CAST ON FOR THINGS YOU DON'T HAVE TIME TO KNIT.

Right now I am listening to an album that I downloaded for the hell of it because I had heard one song from it and liked it a lot. It is called Elephant Eyelash and it is by a band called Why? who is described as "indie rock and alternative hip-hop," which I find to be an interesting description because I keep on having no idea who in their right mind would describe this as hip-hop. It's really gentle music, exactly the sort of thing that attracts me. I had forgotten I had it until I was putting Randall's Love List in iTunes and it was the up-until-now most-recently-added album, so that's that. I like having a big iTunes library because that means there is a lot to choose from, but it also means that I have to try to keep up with which things I have and which things I like. It is a problem for me sometimes.

Anyway... I am going to fuck up George Liscinsky and Sean Moss, both of whom have gotten it into their heads to poke me on Facebook. (Actually, it occurs to me that maybe it's not good to link to the Facebook of people on the General Internet? I hope Sean does not get raped because of my link. But AS OF RIGHT NOW, nobody who is a rapist AS OF RIGHT NOW reads my blog, so he should be fine. He might come here to George Mason! Wouldn't that be exciting.) Those dicks.

The last test I talked about on here was my Physics test. That happened last Friday, and it went okay. I'm glad I studied the way I did, because it was a lot more helpful for me than previous methods of studying for that class have been. Basically, instead of frantically doing problems until I burst into tears because I JUST CAN'T DO IT, I found where he had posted the formula sheet for this test, and I studied that. Not like I tried to memorize all the formulas that he was going to GIVE US, that's stupid. But I tried to memorize which formulas went with what. After all, if my main problem is that when I look at a problem, I frequently have just no idea what sort of equation I'm supposed to be looking for. So if he gives us all the formulas we're going to need on the test, then all I need to do is be able to remember a little bit of theory and then find the equation for what I'm trying to do. Like, this equation is for the magnetic field inside a solenoid (which is basically a cylinder made of spirals of wire that current goes through), so when I get to the problem with the solenoid with N turns and length L and current I and blah blah, I know what equation I need to get the data to look like. I can use Ohm's law and I can blah blah you guys don't care about Physics. And, honestly? Neither do I. This kind of Physics sucks. It's all electricity and circuits and crap. It's not fun at all. We're all done with DC current and now we're on AC current, which means we have to go back to all the wave stuff that I didn't learn at the beginning of the semester. I got a 98% on that test, though, so I guess I did something right.

Anyway, now I have to wait until next fucking week to get my stupid test back, even though I wanted it really really hard today. I want to know how I did. I'm guessing a B, maybe an 80% of the material? Then he might curve it, although I'm not sure it'll be as absurd as test 2, which was so fucking hard he had to curve it 10 points. I got a 61%, which became a 71%, and then he uses a super-lenient grading scale, so my 61% of the material was a (low) B (but a B nonetheless). So, yeah. I'm hoping for around 80% of the material, and for that to be a medium-high B.

Man, this album is cheerful and depressing and gentle. I like it a lot. There's a song that's basically like, "if I ever get the balls to kill myself, I don't want anyone to come to my funeral." So that's mildly upsetting. But there's a lot of the word "elephant" throughout the album, I WONDER WHY. (For those who hate scrolling and rereading, the CD is called Elephant Eyelash.)

Oh, right, I was going to talk about the test I took today. Today's test was depressing not because I think I did poorly, but because I know I did well. I honestly think this was the last easy, fun test I will ever take. But oh MAN was it fun! I always talk about how this class is stupid review that's a fucking waste of my time, and it is, but it's worth it for tests like this. Of which there have been, and only will be, two. So now it's back to wasting my time.

But, yeah, the test was really fun. I don't know if any of you guys have ever thought of tests as "fun," but what I mean by that is that it was all full of basic math--remembering that Force Equals Mass Times Acceleration, and Momentum Equals Mass Times Velocity, and Work Equals Force Dot (or, for people like EVERYONE IN MY CLASS who don't know anything about vectors, Times) Distance. And I think that was all? We also had to know things like There Are 100 Centimeters In A Meter, but we did NOT need to know There are 2.54 Centimeters In An Inch, which was given. And so I got to use scratch paper and do everything out properly. Oh, it was so fun. I love that pencil-on-paper math feeling, I love writing things down even though I'm just going to plug them into Mr Graphs anyway and I don't really need to... I love 0.7mm mechanical pencils; 0.5mm just doesn't cut it--breaks too easily.

So, yeah. That's that. I think I'm done blogging.

SO THERE BITCHES

George uses PRESSURE. It's super-effective! Kristina shares BLOG.

Kristina's blog is lots of great anecdotes about her life! We should make her have STORY TIME more often. Also her typos are the cutest, for reals. She'll be in For Easy Clickin' soon enough, and in the meantime you all know how to use regular text links. WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME WHY AM I TALKING.

IN OTHER NEWS I FUCKING HATE PHYSICS.

Don't worry, this should be the last time for a little while that you hear about Physics. My next lab report is due AFTER Thanksgiving, and it's a group lab of which I have the easy part; my test is tomorrow morning, and I think I might manage to do okay on it, provided I do a pretty good job of memorizing which equations do what. Easier said than done, you guys. EASIER SAID THAN DONE.

Anyway, so, yeah. That's blogs for today.

ISN'T IT A LOT OF FUN TO DO STUDYING INSTEAD OF HOMEWORK?

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU REALLY REALLY DON'T NEED TO DO ANY REVIEW BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS SUPER EASY.

I'm "taking notes" on "test review."

I WILL DO HOMEWORK IN CLASS INSTEAD OF WRITING A BLOG POST

Obviously, that's going to work out perfectly. NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT PLAN AT ALL. Now, I just have to figure out WHICH homework I will do during Engineering. I was thinking it would probably be programming, but now it occurs to me that I really probably ought to at least find an article to write about for Literature, or do some more stuff about Dostoyevsky.

BUT THEN WHEN WILL I HAVE TIME TO WRITE A BLOG POST??

That almost devolved into "but then when will have time brote wog" but luckily I caught it before it got too out of hand.

I hate my life. I hate all my classes right now. I don't ever want to go to Calculus again (laziness) and I don't ever want to go to Physics again (don't understand) and I don't ever want to go to Engineering again (boring) and I don't ever want to go to Literature again (work) and I think that's all my classes but I'm not sure. Oh wait there's also Programming, and I don't ever want to go there again because it's awful.

Oh, speaking of hating lives, did George get up this morning? I was disconcerted when I got up at 10:07 and was able to just go pee. So either he decided not to shower (possible, although seems unlikely), he accidentally woke up late (certainly possible, even verging on probable, considering sleeping habits), or he decided to skip class (again, possible, and probable IFF he's anything like me).

Remember that "iff" means "if and only if." It's a great thing that you might have learned in math class, although since math teachers are notorious for not explaining notation, you might also have assumed, as I initially did, that they were just morons who didn't know how to spell the word "if."

Oh no oh no I'm going to have to put the laptop away this is terrible! Don't you just hate when professors (OR GTAS AS IS THE CASE WHEN THE ACTUAL PROFESSOR HAS COMPLETELY ABANDONED THE CLASS) insist that you put your laptop away before they'll start their lecture? As though we're just going to sit here typing into our blogs instead of typing into our notes. Ha. When could that possibly happen? Students are students; they love to pay attention in class! They hate distractions and procrastination!

Right, so, yeah. Homework time imminent, although actually it probably won't be until after my other class, so around 6.

I FUCKING HATE PHYSICS LAB

Actually, this week I pretty much just hate Physics in general. Fucking fuck fuck. I just remembered that I have Physics homework due tomorrow morning (i.e. tonight) EVEN THOUGH there's a test on Friday. Fucking dick dick dick dick dick. I don't understand why he gives us homework on test weeks. Why why why why why fucking why it is just not nice at all. Not reasonable. Fuck. If I'd remembered I needed to do this I would not have spent three hours knitting. Shitbags.

Anyway, three hours knitting was pretty well spent. I still have a fair bit left to do on this sock, but probably just one evening's worth. Or so. Maybe a bit more. I have to finish up a little bit of sole and then the toe. Although toes take so much longer than I always think they will, so it might be two evening's worth. But I'll finish it eventually. And then I guess I'll cast on for the other one, but I also just bought yarn for some very cute mittens that I really really want to make. And a scarf thingy, but I don't have yarn for it. I might buy some over Thanksgiving; I know the yarn store at home has the yarn I want for the pattern I want. Which would be a very very easy thing to knit, and a wonderful change from the tiny tiny needles I use for socks.

So, yeah, blog post got totally derailed by not wanting to do homework. I never want to do fucking homework. Tomorrow I guess I'll be busy, though. Whatever. Tomorrow I will insist on eating cake and soda. Yes... Tomorrow.

BLOGGING FROM CLASS: I DO THIS A LOT

Oh, Monday, how I thought you were Tuesday... Seriously, I've been a bit confused all day. That is probably because I have never skipped Physics on a Monday before. That probably wasn't the best of ideas, but it's okay. I have a Physics test Friday, and so why bother filling up my head with things that won't be on the test? Right-o. That's pretty logical, obviously.

Anyway... I hate this class. For like three weeks, we've been sitting here "studying" statics, which is a waste of my damn life since I've already studied Physics. For you non-scientists, a static system is one in which nothing is moving. \sigma F_x = 0; \sigma F_y = 0; \sigma M_n = 0. \sigma means the sum of; F_x is the force in the X-direction; F_y is the force in the Y-direction; M_n is the moment, which I believe is the force times the distance (between the force and the point at which you're measuring the moment) although I'm a little fuzzy on that and honestly it's pretty easy to deal with static systems by looking at just the forces.

Today I spent a lot of time asleep, and then a lot of time deciding if I should knit a pair of colorful, adorable mittens. I like mittens, and by "like mittens" I mean "have never liked mittens, but would like to because then I could knit all the cutest mittens and it would be great." I think I will knit them, even if I have to buy $25 of yarn/needles for them because they're a bunch of colors.

I am using my laptop to keep myself from being absolutely freezing right now.

That was all from before 6:00! Now it is 10:00, and I am writing more blog post.

I gave blood today because I am obviously a good person who occasionally lies about whether or not they've had sex with dudes who've had sex with dudes (not Hunter, in case you were wondering). It's not my fault if it's a stupid rule that excludes people who've had PROTECTED sex with people who've had PROTECTED sex. Jesus Christ. Anyway, that was fun, although it hurt more than I remembered it hurting, which is too bad. It wasn't excruciating or anything, and I bleed pretty quickly (so it was only like 10 or maybe 15 minutes with the needle in my arm), and blah blah.

On the other hand, my head hurts and I'm a little bit sick to my stomach now. So that's too bad. It's irritating that I'm woozy EVEN THOUGH I did what they told me to and Hunter was even so sweet as to buy me a juice and wait for me. Even though it took about ten years longer than I thought it would. I thought since they told me to make a damn appointment for 8:15 I would actually give blood around 8:15? Instead, I sat and waited foreeever, until 9, and even after that it was a while before the phlebotomist started juicing me. (...what, isn't that what everyone calls it?)

Anyway, yeah, mittens! I'm excited for them.

SLUTS

Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts. Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts. Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts. Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts. Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts.

Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts.

Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts. Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts. Sluts sluts sluts.

Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts. Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts. Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts. Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts. Sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts sluts.

Nothing interesting to report in my life. Goodbye.

DICKS

Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks.

Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks.

Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks.

Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks.

Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks. Dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks dicks.

GEORGE SAID "MAYBE GEORGE SHOULD WRITE A BLOG POST"

So, yeah, I really like this chair. It's a good chair. Suitably comfortable. Problematically, though, my charger cord is just barely not long enough for me to sit and type and charge, so now I am at an odd angle. I guess when I get up to like 70% I'll let it stop, but that could be like a damn hour. I hate waiting.

Scooter has successfully gotten me to listen to Christmas music, but it's just this, which barely counts. Okay, it counts, but it counts much better than Frosty the Hellbound Snowman, so I don't care. It's really just listening to Sufjan Stevens, and I'm always looking for an excuse to do that. A few friends of mine just got to go see him, and apparently his new CD is great? But I haven't heard it. I had a chance to when NPR was hosting it for a little while before it was released, but I kept putting it off because I'm lazy. Anyway, yeah, such songs as "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" and "Come On! Let's Boogie to the Elf Dance." I have a huge soft spot for this guy. He makes sounds that make my brain melt like a wicked witch on a rainy day.

I think I have decided pretty much for sure that I am going to change around my entire schedule (okay, not the "entire" schedule, but 8 of 17 credits, which is a LARGE CHUNK) and be a math major. Only the thing is, I don't want to declare a major. I'm afraid of commitment. That seems pretty reasonable to me! But then, of course it would. I really should email the math department guy and see if he can get me declared properly and work from there, I'm just afraid they're going to tell me I need to be feeling more definite than I am, and... And argh. That's all. My new schedule will be 3 math classes, ballet, and an intro to teaching class, just to see if I can see myself as an actual teacher. Now I just have to figure out WHEN I will take these classes. Why why WHY couldn't I have decided on this BEFORE registering for classes? Oh, right, that might have made my life easy, and we all know how much trouble I have doing that. Ugh.

I absolutely hate clicking "submit" buttons. They are basically the absolute most stress-inducing thing in my life. I like to think that they are the most stress-inducing thing in other people's lives too, but I know that's mostly just wishful thinking. Stress comes in many forms and from many directions, of course. But for me it is clicking "submit," because submitting changes is committing to those changes. Yes, that one mouse-click says, I am sure this is the correct draft of my paper. Yes, it confirms, I am sure I want to take these classes. I do want to buy this vibrator. Well, you know what, Submit Button? I'm never sure about drafts of papers! I'm never sure about classes! I'm never sure about vibrators! And I wish I did not have to click on you.

When I click "submit" on my Register, Add or Drop Classes page, I will be deciding once and for all that Biology and Chemistry are a waste of my time. I know I won't be able to change my mind and get back into those sections (I'm pretty sure they're both full at this moment, or thereabouts), so when I click "submit" and PatriotWeb processes the "web drop" request, I'll be surrendering my spot. And that will be that. Doors will close for me. On the other hand, doors will open, too. I will be taking classes that sound interesting to me, that will help me decide if this is a direction I really want to head in. I fucking hate doors.

Anyway, this will make my schedule for next semester really damn easy. 15 credits: ballet (3), hard math (3), medium-hard math (3), easy math (3), teaching (3). I'll spend about 16 hours a week in class instead of about 21 hours. I will still have one class on Fridays, but my earliest class every day will be 10:30. I will have a 4:30-7:10 class, but on Wednesdays I will be done at 2:30. It will be a good schedule, I do believe. Very very easy. And then sometime in the nearish future I will go and get my major changed and such. I did actually figure out where the Conflict Analysis people live, so it won't actually be impossible!

Right. Now, to pressure Kristina into sharing her blag with us. YES, THAT'S RIGHT, KATE, KRISTINA HAS A SECRET BLOG. SHE ADMITTED IT.

WOULD I EVER WANT TO BE A MATH MAJOR?

Real quick, though, notes:

A BTU is the energy required to raise the temperature of 1lb of water by 1F.
A calorie, on the other hand, is the energy required to raise the temperature of 1mL (1cm^3) by 1C.
See page 315:
1BTU=252cal (.252kCal)
1BTU=1055J
1cal (.001kCal)=4.186J
J=N*m
Something about work and heat transfer and energy (heat transfer - work = change in energy) blah blah.
Regular (fossil) power plant is about 40% efficient (energy out/energy in, see?); nuclear power plant is about 34% efficient.

Okay, so, I might have looked at all the cute-n-tiny.com pages. And I read girls with slingshots, so George can not judge me anymore. (Did you get all the way up-to-date on Penny and Aggie, by the way, or did you accidentally skip ahead and learn how dark it gets? THERE'S ONLY MURDER, YOU GUYS, IT'S NOT THAT BAD.) And now I'm a little bit stuck on this food porn website that makes me wish I ate more frequently.

Right. So. I could probably be a math major. And, so as to have some kind of employment, my math major could have a concentration in math education? Only, uh... I don't know. I like math. I actually do. And I... I mean, I don't get to do it that often, but I do like helping explain math to people. I think? I'm not at all sure.

The trouble here is that I am constantly changing what I think I might want to do with myself. I've gone through foreign service, librarian, astronomer, physicist, civil engineer, systems engineer, civil engineer again, bioengineer, doctor, math teacher--what will I think of next week? On the other hand, though I'm pretty sure I don't actually want to learn Biology and Chemistry. I just like the idea of wanting to be a doctor. It shows initiative. But I don't actually have initiative. Fuck it.

Anyway, now I'm going to freak out a little bit because I want to want to be a math teacher, but I keep looking at requirements and crap and of course that was going to freak me out. Requirements are scary. Also, they want me to be filling out an application for something about certification in the semester when I finish 60 credits, and, um, I have about 60 credits, and so that means that shit would be FAST APPROACHING and TERRIFYING. Also they want me to have at least a 3.0 overall GPA and a 2.75 math GPA, and I don't have those at the moment. Hopefully when I successfully finish retaking the class I failed and the class I got a D in, hopefully for Bs in both, everything will be better, but I AM NOT A VERY GOOD STUDENT. And they want 3 letters of recommendation and for me to have a Math adviser (FFFFFFFFF) and a 2-page paper about my "interactions with adolescents" and how hard I want to be a teacher. So... So I don't really know. I wish I knew all this before starting college so that I wouldn't be so far behind. Math majors themselves are pretty easy, though. Lots of electives.

Anyway, so, yeah, maybe I should be getting back to paying attention in class. But fuck class. I'd rather be writing the blag.

By the way, it's Remembrance Day in Canada and Veterans Day in the US. They're the same thing, basically. So just be aware of veterans for today.

I'M STILL TRAPPED IN CUTE-N-TINY.COM

I have read 51 pages of it. I can't get myself to just close the friggin' window. Ohgodpandabreadnooooooooo!

Okay, distracted. Temporarily. Because I have super-completed (that is, blocked -- if you want to know how cool blocking really is, click the little link to "Cross your legs" and see what that shawl looked like before blocking, because it really is pretty neat-o -- basically you get your knit wool thing wet, stretch it out until it looks like what you want it to look like, pin it down, leave it to dry, and when you come back and un-pin it, it stays that way!) the blue triangle I was working on a long time ago. It's not really a triangle, and it's not really blue (more navy/dark green/purple), and I have worn it as a scarf before, and it really is quite nice and fuzzy and now it's very light-feeling. I should have made it more curvy, like a crescent shape, because that would work better for a scarf of this nature, but it's nice and I like it regardless. I still have some other knitting to do, such as those socks I've been ignoring, the other blue triangle (actually a triangle, but green-changing-to-blue) I've also been ignoring, and everything else I want to make. Like a sweater. A particular sweater. A sweater which I can picture in my head...but will probably never knit. I don't really wear sweaters. (It would be very dark grey and it would have this zig-zaggy pattern in the yoke and it would be great and I don't really want to just knit knit knit knit knit a sweater for ages and ages and aaages. But I might. Because I really want this sweater. I've wanted it for months. Similar to this, but not exactly. Actually not that similar. But kind of similar.)

Enough knitting. Class time. Must walk. More post later.

MORE THINGS I CAN'T DEAL WITH RIGHT NOW

Again, I shouldn't be sharing this. But. I really just can't work with it right now (it is Physics time) and it is right here.

Also... I know you have a lot of work etc. going on, so don't worry about getting back to me quickly on this. I have one more thing to say.
I'm sorry for everything I did to you. [details details relationship details] I really am so sorry for all of that.


Friggin' frig, Jack, I cannot deal with this at this or any moment. I WAS THE BAD GIRLFRIEND. I was the bad one. Frig, it is not fair to turn everything upside-down on me.


That's all. Maybe more on this later, after some funnier days. I don't like dumping MY ENTIRE LIFE STORY into a blag after like a week. I only move that super-fast in relationships and special circumstances.


Anyway, FRIG. THIS IS WHY I SHOULDN'T CHECK MY EMAIL IN THE MIDDLE OF DOING MY FRIGGIN HOMEWORK FFFFFFFF

TODAY I AM NOT FUNNY

Yesterday I got all existential (okay, not existential, fuck existentialism, but mopey/whiny) in my other blog (that you're not allowed to read), and that was interesting, and then today I got an email from Jaq.

You may remember Jaq if you are George or Kristina and met her for two seconds at the Rally to Restore Sanity. She is my ex-girlfriend, and we had many an interesting time together. We had ups and downs and dated for what probably added up to about 2 years. She was my best friend for pretty much all of high school, although I wasn't hers. I will probably never understand why she thought she loved me, but I will speculate that it was probably because I was broken. I will not elaborate, but I will say that we are both much healthier now.

Jaq (which I think, but will never tell her, is a stupid way to spell Jack-short-for-Jackie-short-for-Jacqueline) said she was surprised I wanted to see her at the rally, and some other things, and eventually got to her point, which was that "I would just prefer not to have this sense of being dragged along." I do not want for her to have said that to me. I am not even sure what that means.

I told her some things to the effect that it is really not up to me whether she wants me in her life or not. I am a friend pack-rat; if I knew someone well at some point, I will probably always think of them as a friend unless something happens to make us definitively not-friends. So no matter how infrequently I see Jack, I will probably always think of her as "my friend Jack" and never as "this person I knew in high school." (Really, even if she writes back to me and says she would prefer to not have me in her life, I will think of her as "my friend Jack." I didn't say that to her, and I will respect her wishes insofar as staying generally out of her business, but it is true.) I told her it sounded like she was dumping me (...again, as in for like the fourth time) and that in that case, it was mean to basically ask for my permission.

She has written back now, while I was moping. The last time we had seen each other, until the 30th, was in May, right after school got out. Something you may not know about me is that I despise change, and any big shift usually puts me into a depression for at least a week. I get depressed when school starts, I get depressed when school ends, it's a pain in the ass. So right after school got out, I was depressed about change, I was depressed about looking for a job, I was depressed about my grades, and Jack only had a few days left at home before she went back to Cleveland for summer classes. So she asked if we could hang out, and apparently she had to push really hard to get me to say yes, and then it wasn't that fun and the next day I posted on my even older other blog (which you also are not allowed to read) about how I would have had an easier day if I had spent it on the couch. In her email just now, Jack said that she had felt like I was dumping her then, because I was so unenthusiastic about the whole thing. Like she didn't matter to me anymore.

I'm sorry, I don't know why I am talking details about this. It is just hard for me to parse what things are like between me and her because I would rather just let things be. Her life does not involve me very much, and mine does not involve her, but sometimes they can intersect and that is not a problem.

EVEN THOUGH THEY'RE USELESS, I'M GLAD I HAVE A LOT OF TRANSFER CREDITS

Laundry is in the dryer!

Class registration is a complete success! (Well, except for that niggling sense of IMPENDING FUCKING DOOM, but I'm trying to ignore that for a little while.)

 Now it is shower times!

Also, those of us who hate typing (not true I love typing) might take note of the handy clicky links on the left-hand side. Now you can navigate from here to George's blog with minimal effort! And I am a BIG FAN of minimal effort. The best part of the clicky link is that it tells you when each blog was last updated, thereby saving you from having to refresh the page like 30 times a day and drive up his pageviews without him actually getting any new pageviews.

FOR THE RECORD, I HATE WHEN I WHINE

Really, I do. On the other hand, I do it all the time. It's a thing that I do, as we all know. And so I just want to clarify that I didn't mean to whine last time. I just decided that I might as well use the blog to express things, since I think when I try to do that in real life I tend to be even whinier. I'm not sure if that's the case, but, you know, whatever. I'm always more articulate in print, even if it just winds up being articulate whining. Anyway, what I mean is, posting something here isn't intended to be passive-aggressive or guilt-trip-y or anything like that, it's just a way to express things that I would probably otherwise keep to myself.

On a sidenote: this post contains more evidence that Allie Brosh and I might be the same person? See: the squirrel note. And the entry a little while toward-the-present from here about the arbitrary conditions that allow her to "win." And the raptor hands. And... There are a lot of things. But, you know, whatever.

My sister's Government textbook refers to NARAL (the National Abortion Rights Action League) as a "pro-abortion group." Hm, I wonder if they might have a tiny amount of political bias? There is a huge difference between being pro-choice and being pro-abortion, just like there is a huge difference between being pro-life and anti-choice. However, there is not a huge difference between describing someone as "pro-abortion" and incriminating yourself as anti-choice.
No one (who makes the rules, anyway) thinks abortion is just a happy fun time thing that should be your first thought when you find out you're pregnant, but that doesn't mean the option shouldn't be on the table. I know that I would never counsel a friend to have an abortion (unless her health or, in some cases, financial stability/independence were at risk), but if she wanted me to go with her to the clinic, I would do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked. Abortion should be a traumatic experience for everyone involved--that fetus could have become your child--but that doesn't mean it should be stigmatized.

Oh, wait, I believe I'm preaching to the choir there. Whoopsie, sorry about that.

You remember my paper that I apologized for? The professor apparently graded it over the weekend and I got it back last night:

Excellent paper (1030) words, clearly presented, arranged, argued, efficient. A key point. My only disagreement is with your last sentence -- that HH relinquishes control over Lolita and her life only AFTER killing Quilty, I would argue that he relinquishes control BEFORE killing Quilty--when he returns to Ramsdale and puts all her affairs in order, in effect, writing himself out of her life. At that point he can move on to kill Quilty (and himself).
Certainly he knew that his ultimate fate was to lose her--loving a nymphet guarantees a short love
I enjoyed your paper very much. 100+

NO BULLSHIT. Evidence:

I am very glad that 1) loves me; and 2) has low standards.

I had a good time with my family over the weekend. My brother and I got my sister to eat sushi, even if she only had two pieces (one piece of a roll with tuna and panko and spice powder and half a piece of unagi) before she claimed that eating any more would make her literally throw up. She's kind of a pussy.

Now I have to do super-quick laundry and sign up for classes!

TODAY I AM AT HOME.

Today I lost a big amount of post, which I had written.

To summarize: fuck my novel, fuck this girl I knew in middle school, fuck VCU (but not really), fuck everything.

Apparently my mother's friend's husband accidentally woodchipped the end of his useful (i.e. index) finger off. And "it's very painful." Shockingly enough.

Hunter's all upset/frustrated/wishing it were not the case that I am at home, leaving him all alone to seethe while playing Final Fantasy while the dumb kids laugh drunkenly in the other room. He's convinced that they're so much more annoying than usual, but I think he's just lonely. He doesn't like that he would have to be drinking to have fun tonight, although I keep suggesting that maybe he could have fun if he just went over, but he's gotten himself too incensed to give it a fair chance. I mean, it makes sense. He's pretty much been left out of everything all weekend, and it's not like people don't know that he can't join in with drinking (I mean, not "can't," except in principles), and... Whatever. My point is that he's justified in being annoyed at being ignored all the time.

I've never been drunk. I've never had drinking friends--well, that's not true. I've had plenty of friends who drink, who like to get drunk and who do so frequently. They've just never actually liked me enough to invite me drinking with them. I mean, I've never been popular, so I never went to those high school parties where you play beer pong ("only we ran out of beer, so then we started using vodka, I got sooo wasted") and get raped, but the nerds and other non-conformists have parties too, right? I know they do, because I've seen plenty of pictures on Facebook and read plenty of blog posts from my friends about parties that I wasn't invited to. I don't know if people think I'm immature, or if I'm just not fun to be around, or what the hell. But, yeah, so, I've never been drunk, which I guess makes me even less desirable as a person to invite to parties, on account of how I don't know how to drink. Although Kate didn't know how to drink and people still apparently wanted to get drunk with her. But Kate's better at groups than I am, so I guess that's just that. Whatever.

MOAR WRITING

Today I can do something I have not been able to do for a couple of days: knit. I like knitting. I do not like when my knitting gets all fucked up and I have to rip it out and pretend like it never happened. Whatever. I really like socks. Hand-knit socks. Socks are great. So, yeah, that's nice. I get to come just a small amount closer to having another pair of socks.

Anyway, so, yeah, I got that paper finished with minimal crying, and I got my Calculus test done with minimal slapping of my own face (to keep myself awake!). Although I'm a little upset about the quality of my essay (oh god it's awful), I'm enthusiastic about the Calculus test. As I told Kristina earlier, if I get less than a 90, I'm going to be fucking outraged, because I did GREAT.

So, yeah, time to bring my word count up to approximately the right place for today, since I don't have any homework to get done today. Or maybe actually I'm going to watch an episode of House and knit a few rows of sock. I think I'm going with the second one, because I want my sock to get closer to completion and am totally burned out on writing from last night.

I've had 3 hours of sleep, and I accidentally missed a class this afternoon because I did not wake up for any of my three alarms. Ugh. That class takes attendance, too. But it's okay because I otherwise am doing great in the class.

Did I mention to anyone that I'm planning on trying to make a quilt over winter break? It sounds a little crazy, but that's just because I'm a little crazy. I don't really know why I'm mentioning it now, except that, uhhh... I don't know. I swear there was a thought process here.

Deja vu!

I'm hungry. George needs to get his ass out of his stupid late class. Fuuuck.

THINGS I AM DOING INSTEAD OF HOMEWORK

HERE IS A LIST OF THINGS I AM DOING INSTEAD OF HOMEWORK

• Having super fun blog time
• Watching Hunter play Demon's Souls
• Wishing I were having my back rubbed AT THIS EXACT MOMENT (see above)
• Obsessing over people with more words than me
• Trying to steal candy from George but not actually reaching far enough
• Wondering why my left I eye (did I seriously just do that) teared up really hard when I reached down
• Testing to see if it'll do that again or if it was a freak occurrence (it was)
• Complaining to myself about how I have a headache but not doing anything about it
• Wondering why I have to pee for the third time since dinner WITHOUT DRINKING ANYTHING IN BETWEEN TRIPS TO THE BATHROOM WHAT THE HELL IS THIS
• Crying quietly about the essay I have yet to properly start that is due in 11 hours

HERE IS A LIST OF THINGS I SHOULD BE DOING

• Being given a backrub
• Eating candy
• Writing my paper
• Finishing my "temperature converter" application that I think is going to go by the wayside but it's okay because my lowest assignment grade will be dropped and I have great grades on all my other ones
• Moving around ONLY the hairs that are WITHIN REACH, thereby NOT causing myself to fall off the bed like a retarded sloth with humanoid vocal cords and the ability to say "Oh no!"
• OH YEAH WRITING THAT PAPER
• Maybe after I go pee
• for the third time
• and maybe take some Advil

THERE ARE NO CIRCUMSTANCES UNDER WHICH NOW SHOULD BE BLOG TIME

The fact of the matter is, I have a lot of work to do today. I never did finish reading Lolita, and I didn't quite get to the correct number of words. So I should not AT ALL be writing in a blog instead of either reading Lolita, starting my essay, or finishing up my words for the day.

On the other hand, instead of reading, I'm SparkNoting, and the next page, cruelly, won't load. I took a brief break to beat a game of MineSweeper, but I got to the last corner and clicked a mine, so I can either play again or just go to IMDB this movie my brother just asked if I want to go see.

He asked, "Ever wanted to see a movie about a high schooler who's the reincarnation of Leon Trotsky, the Russian revolutionary who was exiled to Mexico, then killed with an ice pick?" I'm intrigued, but I'm also concerned that there might not be that much Trotsky action, on account of how this is just some kid who happens to be a reincarnation of the guy. I guess. I didn't read the whole summary.

Anyway, so, yeah, one more game of MineSweeper, then a more SparkNoting, then maybe getting the hell back on my NaNo horse. Molly just got out of the shower, and in an hour or so she's going to her job, i.e. a "date." I have to pretty her all up, and honestly, I don't know how to put makeup on a physical human being, so I'm a bit concerned that I'm not going to be able to put makeup on a textual human being. Whatever. It'll be okay.

GOGOGOGOGO

IT IS TIME FOR NEW POSTS

Okay, then, so, George has a blog, so now I have a blog. However, George put off getting his NaNoWriMo words to make this blog, thereby making him a huge slut. (Edited to now contain not one but TWO links illustrating George's slutitude. Edited again because Kate things I should call him a cum dumpster.)

My novel is going okay. It doesn't really have any plot yet, as in I don't really have any ideas for plot movement AT ALL, but I'm allowed to spend the first few days doing stupid characterization shit. I guess. Since that's just how I roll, and since I don't really give a fuck if it's good.

Anyway, yeah, I have to put this down to write 1500 words and read 150 pages. So yeah. See title of blog.