Youz is Startin 2 Bugz Me! && <3

So everyone knows that the bumper sticker application is pretty much the most genius addition to that social networking site (whatcha call it again?) that we all know and love. But while wasting time browsing through stickers (not having a search option- also a genius idea causing us to waste hours on the application) I can't help but find myself a little annoyed. For starters, a large chunk of the stickers just look something like this:







This is all sweet and endearing at first, until you've read some girly, feel good saying for like the 50th time in the same cutesy font and you start to wonder "are girls just pathetic, insecure people who need to be constantly reminded of their self worth, or are most guys just douches?" (excellent question) Then again, girls are by no means afraid to hide their inner bitch, as seen here:

A little scary, huh? Yeah I (the ex) would really choose to say that over bumper stickers, and I (the new girlfriend) would totally keep that on my profile. Then of course, the cousin to these bumper stickers, is something like this:












Again, cute, endearing, meaningful....but do we really need hundreds of them even though they all say essentially the same thing? I mean really that was so creative. Another close relative of these stickers are these:







Now I know as well as anyone that the bumper sticker application can be an amazing way to share feelings, but can we cut the emo crap? Yeah thanks, I mean really who wants to admit to that, and if they do who wants to display it on their profile. Speaking of, I would just like to point out that this one is entirely untrue (unless you're more pathetic than anyone I've ever met):












But that said, we should not forget the true genius of the bumper sticker application. Some fantastic disses can only be delivered quite so poignantly as a bumper sticker can, for example












and











And when the time does come to talk about feelings, Bumper stickers does offer us a fantastic variety of funny, creative, nonlame ways to do this in that awesome way that only bumper stickers can. For example








and













Oh, and just because I thought you all would enjoy this one:













(Cuz if he did it, it's clearly OK)

How About Them Apples?

Yesterday I was in an Antiques store and I saw the kind of computer they used to teach us to type on in 1st grade.




Oops, my bad. It was actually a more recent model for sale. Still.

That is all.

Something Intellectuabibble (Or Rather- Intellectuabubble)

Usually on that rare occasion when I watch the news, the part about the economy sortof just goes in one ear and out the other while all therandom figures just fly over my head. But today was a little different. I wasn't watching the local news (Crap programming that it is. Yes, I get it, someone else was raped or in a car accident and some local kindergartners got a visit from a senator...what can I do about this exactly?) but another show, I think it was something to do with a Mr. French.

Realization 1: Paying for college loans and grad school loans is leaving our generation in debt well into their 30s and 40s. So much for youthful and carefree years of youth when these days you can graduate grad school with almost $400,000 in debt, and no guarantee of a job that will pay well enough to pay this off, despite your hard earned degrees.

Realization 2: Unless I miraculously come into tons of money or move to England (Where they pay you to go to college) I'm not having kids. (See Realization1. Is that selfish?)

Realization 3: Today the cost of oil went up by 11 dollars a barrel. 11 DOLLARS! IN ONE DAY! You know how much the price went up yesterday? $5.50. Slight difference much? In a year, the cost of a barrel of oil has gone from around $60 to $140.

Realization 4: Do you know why? NOTHING! All this hype about an oil shortage that hasn't come yet (albeit impending, no one can deny that) is doing nothing but making gas even more expensive. In addition, some rich guys decide they wanna play the market, so they buy oil, making the cost more expensive and waiting for a peak in the cost, and then sell it for a profit. Since the spike caused the DJIA to fall 400 points, this is hurting the average American even more (Since stocks seem to be a far more popular portfolio option for most than crude oil). And of course, on the topic of rich guys, we have Big Oil companies and our favorite president ever, who doesn't seem to be doing much to help get the dollar value back up. Yes, those are all excellent reasons to make it fiscally impossible for my mom to ever drive on a full tank of gas, and to force many of my friends and their families to curtail usual, fun practices because they can only spend so much on gas money. While we can take a little time to enjoy the irony of big buisness and environmentalist hippies aiding the same cause, this is truly ridiculous. When does it end?!

Realization 5: So pretty much by the time I have to go out and support myself my entire generation is going to be doubly fucked. And what is the government doing about this? Well I googled a bit and got nothing, so I'm assuming that's the answer.

Realization 6: Damn that's depressing, no wonder nobody watches the news.

Realization 7: I think I'm a socialist, or at least America and it's leaders need a serious kick in the ass so at least that much can go a little red.

And Then She Realized, She Wasn't Alone...

Oh, and if anyone happens to be splashed at a pool this summer that hasn't been properly chemically tested yet (resulting in skin irritation from the high Chlorine concentration) I reccomend drying the area as much as possible, then mushing up a bannana and applying the product to the skin area in a 90% molar excess. Just a thought.

(nothing highly concentrated or intraveneous though, apparently thats part of the lethal injection process. Who knew?)

Disco Synthesis Update

While unfortunate weather and federal law have prevented my partner and I from commencing the true process, I am glad to announce that the skeleton of a recipie has been developed and an excellent product is anticipated.

In other news, the upcoming Sex and the City Movie is being referred to as "The Super Bowl for Women" because apparently we can all "come together and complete our interaction with a show that has spoken to us so deeply" (not to mention the in-film advertising is recieving pretty much the same hype, yuck). Sure, why not. And here's a fun quote from a mediocre movie: "Guys, a woman's purse is her secret source of power, alright? There are many dark and dangerous things in there, that we, the male species, should know nothing about."

Actually, I've often wondered how guys get by with just stuffing everything in their pockets. I mean granted that a purse (especially a large one) ends up holding tons of unecessary life residue like ticket stubs and lipbalm, but how do guys fit a wallet, a cell phone, glasses, sunglasses, and keys all in their pockets comfortably? And what if they're not wearing cargo pants? Is that how the sagging pants look got in in the first place? (in addition to the whole prison/ghetto trend) I'd really like to know.



(As you can see, it's been a pretty epic week.)

Oh Happy Day!

So a pending employment opportunity has sadly prevented me from proclaiming this to the world via facebook status, but just so y'all know:



I'M NOT ON ACADEMIC PROBATION!!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!! 2.73 BABY!! OH YEAH!!!!

*cue dance party*




That is all.

Like Animal House...But Better

Well actually I've only seen Animal House once, and for some reason I barely remember anything that happenned in that movie except for a Highschool girl that I could have sworn had a masechtomy and Belucci putting some cheese in his mouth and trying to pelt it at a bunch of jocks like it was a machine gun or something. Anyway, I like Will Ferrel better (lord knows why) So I guess we can safely say that Old School probabaly kicks Animal Houses's ass (OK, so Animal House did have the whole plot idea in the first place, but Old School perfected it)

Anyway, It's movies like this that make me feel that warm, fuzzy nostalgia for back when I was in college. Wait....Oops, I still am in college. My B. Guess life is just awesome then. Who knew? (or at least it will be from now on because I have had a major epiphany involving concert tickets, an essentially failed exam, a prize-winning paper, and overall not nearly enough alcohol)

Though if anyone would like to start a bullshit based coed fraternity, I'm obviously all in.

Now, let's use another element of the film to transition from talking about a lighthearted, happy subject to a serious one filled with impending doom. Ready, set, go! It seems to me that media portrays women in a horrible and degrading manner. No, I don't care about the fact that they're objectified as sex objects or essentially the basis of the porn industry, I'm actually talking about young men's wives. You know, those good, wholesome women that men (apparently) decide are awesome enough to forsake thair bachelorhood for and hot enough to keep them satisfied for the Rest. Of. Their. Lives. (I actually heard recently that about 3/4 of married men admit to cheating, but let's not even think about that) Here's my issue- they're too good. Or at least they are according to the media.

Are we really always the bad cops? Forsaking awesome amenities like a living room hot tub or mini bar for Pottery Barn furniture and matching take-off-your-shoes carpets? Giving our husbands curfews and feeling so threatened by something as trivial as a porn collection that it must be hidden in the garage? Insisting on approving nearly everything that goes on in their lives while using our pouty looks and coy glances to slowly bring an end to everything that is, well, fun? I would hope not. As truly touching as it is that guys will be willing to put up with this shit to please us, it sort of scares me that women and marriage are seen as the gateway choice to a boring life. Long story short, if I ever get like that, slap me. (And if my husband ever gets so drunk he decides to go streaking around town by himself, remind me that that is fucking hillarious.)

Public Service Announcement

Life is full of many questions. Questions like "how best can I spend the next three months of free time" (YES!) and "When the hell am I going to run out of this shampoo already?" But here's one maybe the readership can help me out with: Why do men under the age of 27 even consider growing facial hair? A male friend of mine once said that men grow out their facial hair because they're lonely. Do they realize that this will only perpetuate the saddening cycle of lack of both women and the use of a razor? Of all my girlfriends (and there are many) I think only one has ever expressed any sortof positive feelings around facial hair on guys our age whatsoever. Most of them just think "Yuck!" Please, young men of the world, consider that an indicator. Maybe it does make you feel older or more manly or whatnot, but why don't you spend the time you'd usually spend growing out your hair doing something even more manly? I dunno, maybe like lifting weights, macking hoes...shaving? Just some suggestions, you get the drift. Hell, even writing emotional poetry beats a beard.


PS: No hatin' koops. I know you're already a lost cause and I'm not even going to bother. I hope you thoroughly enjoy resembling a pedophile. Seriously though, doesn't that thing get hot in the summer?

Musings From a Carrel Devoid of All Hope and Caring

I have a long night ahead of me.

No, I will not be doing chemistry volunteer work. (as I wish I was)

No, I will not be getting shizzy crunk with my dormmates afterwards. (as I wish I was)

Instead, I will be starting and finishing the 8-10 page paper that was due this morning about a topic I really couldn't care less about. After that, I will write a french paper (also due this morning) on a topic that not only could I not care less about right now, but based on answering a question that I don't even really understand. Then I will write the lab due two days ago, and commence the last ever consecutive (for this semester at least) "Week from Hell- Part III." Damn, I really wish I'd eaten more "jello" and drank more "pineapple juice" last night (not to mention made out with like 5x more people. Oh well, it's not like any of them had penises anyway).


On the bright side- I now own an awesome umbrella.



Really doesn't balance out, does it?




PS- Fuck the Man. Oh wait, I can't, I don't have one. Dammit.

The Sad Thing Is, I'm Actually Not Exaggerating

People get into relationships in the first place because they make them happy. Indeed, the first phase of any relationship is a joyous one- cute little surprises from your spouse, long meaningful conversations, mindblowing love-making- it can make life worth living on even the toughest of days. But sadly, relationships don't always stay that way. People take others for granted, neglect them, or just downright change. Eventually, the relationship becomes too much of a hassle to deal with than it is a joy, and that's when you have to ask yourself the pivotal question- just a rough spot, or not worth continuing all together?

I can't exactly explain what happened between me and Chemistry. Maybe it was because for the first time in a long time, the intro class came really easily to me. I was doing science, and I wasn't sucking at it! Maybe it was because I soon learned that this actually had a lot to do with some of the cooler aspects of physics, like quantum mechanics and entropy. Maybe it was the thought of understanding what makes things react and fizz and bubble, and being able to synthesize any thing I wanted if given the right ingredients. Maybe I just liked the sound of it and can picture myself doing it. Hell, maybe it was just cuz I go to a women's college.

Anyway, registration has already closed so in all liklihood I'm already sucked into taking the continuation next semester. But with dad freaking out over how much I'm killing my GPA (hopefully Pass/Fail will ameliorate that, plus its only one of three classes, though ironically the class will still take up most of my time) my social life seriously suffering, and my overall well being on the hinge, I have to wonder if this is really all worth it.

So here it is, it's time for the list. Chemistry: what I like about it, What I don't like about it. I know this must make for incredibly boring blogging, but I REALLY need some advice.


Good:
*learn really cool stuff that is relevant to my daily life. Deeply satisfying.

* Possibly the most I've ever been drawn to any class. (Though comporable to AP US History)

*get to go to lab and do fun lab experiements! ( highlight of my weekdays when it's not stressing me out, which it doesn't do too often.)

*If i get good grades in it after all, I will feel accomplished and be able to synthesise stuff! Yes it will take a lot of work, but I'll know chemistry! And people don't do much on weekends here anyway.

*Can teach it to women in countries dominated by archaic patriarchies.

*Won't have to look back and think "Damn I loved that class, but I gave up because I'm just too dumb to do chemistry. Silly me, thinking I could actually be good at a science."*shudder* (Warning: might also lead to intense bitterness around the subject for the rest of my life)



Bad:
*manipulating it in its entirety is something that might not be mastered without much more concentration. (WTF is with all these isomers?) Plus, if I am desperate to synthesize something, there's always the internet.

* Inevitbly falling behind, then COMPLETELY devoting EVERY OTHER WEEKEND to studying for exams, realizing there's no way I can organize then cram all this information in my head even after spending at least 12+ hours studying, bursting into tears at least 3x, and still getting Cs.

*Missing out on social engagements and the possiblity of enjoying my young life because of said exams.

*I could teach the humanities too, or be a better lawyer and just fight for human rights as a whole.

* I can always go back to school and learn this stuff when I'm older (If I have the time and money)




Again, any advice is greatly appreciated here.

Adventures In Academia: Taming the Scanner

When I was in 8th grade, I was doing a project on a local University and spent a decent amount of time in that institution's library doing research. It was here when I first discovered the Microform. Though off limits to me at the time, I knew that one day in my future as a grown up (barely) , intellectual (sorta), responsible (snicker), college student I might embark on a project so intellectually profound that I would have to resort to using whatever kinds of special data was stored in such a way. Yesterday was that day. As you might have guessed, aside from feeling as if I too had now completed some sort of bizarre right of passage of college students everywhere since our parents graduated, the experience really wasn't too glamorous.

In case you were wondering, a Microform reader looks something like this:

As you can see, the Microform reader is one of those fantastically awkward pieces of technology that came into a shortlived prime right after we perfected the analog computer, but just before fully digital technology was mainstream. No matter how you try to spin it in your head, there really isn't anything too dignifying about sitting in front of a burly, beige piece of equiptment like that and staring at it's oversized, blaring screen. It was a truly ghetto experience. And speaking of the ghetto, they're friggen scary too. Just one little flip of the power switch and the large, blank screen lights up right away as you hear whizzing fans and ancient circuit boards awaken, hungry for tasty young college students.

Indeed, for most of yesterday, I was the microform scanner's bitch. Comically, I had to often resort to manually adjusting the tape, and even putting an entire roll back on the reel when the machine disfuctioned and I ended up surrounded by about five yards of loose film strip, no joke. Thank you 1970s technology, really. Let's not even begin to talk about printing.

But today I mastered the Microfilm reader. Today not only did I demand that its spinning feed wheel do my exact bidding, but I even mastered the art of printing out beautifully contrasted and focused copies (Albeit at the OBNOXIOUS price of $ .15 per page) and assembling them into quality source materials. Hey, you know those hand outs they've been passing out to us for years since grade school? Except for the ones from text books, I think this might be where the rest come from. Who knew?

While I was in the process of scrolling through a reel of materials (FYI: You know you've spent too long studying when you see a really ripped up document and think "Hey, that's really badass!") I couldn't help but think about something else that always occurs to me when I'm in the large, main library at my college. In this specific case it was: where did all these random documents come from and who decided which ones were special enough to go here? More generally: Half of this stuff seems like random junk. Who would have thought that a pamphlet advertising opportunites for women with PhDs at Radcliffe in the 50s would make its way to the shelves of a respectable library alongside encyclopedias, thesises, and novels? 50 years at least before cultural studies and SWAG had probabaly gained any recognition, who bothered to keep it? And 50 years from now, what about our life will, essentially by pure happenstance, find its way to the shelves of our grandkids' schools?

Oh, and here's a fun, Nexusy fact: the microfilm collection I was using was assembled in my old hometown where I lived in middleschool, same zip code and everything. This is significant seeing as, as the blog buddies can vouch for, I used to live in the middle of nowhere with literally nothing but a cornfield and a church. Wonder how that happenned.

Only At My College....

Last weekend, it was sexibition: An event where everyone is invited to have nude or partially nude photographs taken of themselves ("anonymous vagina shots welcome! ({})" ). Some of these photos are used to advertise for the event around campus (including full frontals), and all are put on display during the dance that is sexibition itself.

This weekend, it's this. And yes, these flyers are all over campus:

Don't worry, I coudn't stop staring either.

It's ironic that on a day dedicated to bodily respect the first verb in the list is "Fuck It" (as opposed to "pleasure" or "make love to" or another word that doesn't have like 39 derogatory, hateful, or apathetic implications.) But hey, it's college; whatever tickles your clit. Apparently that's the point too... If you can't read the print, they also had "hump it" and "explore it," so we get the point already. And why else would there be a workshop with the local sex toy store? I don't think I even want to know what a "radical menstruation workshop" is.

Oh, and for the record, those are "body part cupcakes" they're referring to. Wonder where...

Post 123: Go Fibonacci. And More Juicy College Tidbits

Ever wonder what your grade will be on an exam that hasn't been handed back yet? Here's a nifty way to find out. Simply check all the following that applied to you as you took the test:


1. At one point in the test, you only had 10 minutes left. ____

2. At that point, you had not yet started the final problem. ____

3. At that point, you had not fully completed more than 1 or 2 of the problems ____

4. Most importantly: At that point, you found yourself shouting expressions under your breath that you never actually use in daily life (in this case, "BitchesAndHoesBitchesAndHoes!") while mildly flailing your writing implement and slightly disturbing other library patrons. _____


Now, add up one point for every check. If many people you talked to about the same exam responded with 2 or more points, subtract a point from your score for a generous curb. Compare your final result to the table below:

1- maximum A *

2- maximum B+

3- maximum C+

4- heads= pass, tails= fail.


*Subtract major life points, and go back to MIT where you came from. Seriously, stop using the rest of us just so you can feel good about not being a total visionary.


NB: Don't leave such a crucial calculation up to Blogger, as it clearly sucks at counting.

Post 121: Go Pascal. And screw 42, the Answer is Benzene

Every now and then, something happenns in life that gives me the slightest glimmer of hope in the unseen. This "nexusy" thing proves (though perhaps somewhat nonsensically and esoterically) that life is not all random entropy, and that sometimes the karmic energy we put into things can actually come back to us for the better. True, it's all a philosophical fallacy, but it's nice to think that there are powers from above and that they might be listening to you for once instead of seeing how best they can position to magnifying glass to scald your little peon ass.

I have spent the past week stressing/studying (probably more of the former) for a chemistry exam coming up. I am actually fortunate however, because had my professor not spontaneously developed a kidney imfection and been rushed to the ER, I would have already failed it. Godsend? Most definitley. Remember that uber cliche Carry-Bradshaw-like post in which I mused about protons and people? Apparently, the answer to my silly metaphorical question actually does have chemical back up. (If you're wondering, the answer is Benzene.) Bizzarre coincidence? In all liklihood yes, but I really need all the optimism I can get right now, and it does work a little too well.

What was I going to write about again? Oh yeah, pessimism. Today I realized one of the reasons why I like science so much. (aside from needing something to distract me from the lack of other things going on in my life...testosterone synthesis anyone?) By technical definition, you cannot have faith in science, because the whole point of scientific research and discovery is that things can be tested, proven, and repeated.You could argue, however, that you can have faith in science. The scientific method is a direct product of the science that it attempts to justify. Since people can really beleive in anything they want, someone could choose to not beleive in science all together, thus making the method debatable, thus making it possible to actually have faith in science since you can no longer prove anything. But semantics aside, I do have a sortof faith in Science and its solidarity. I have faith that if I do well academically and learn lots of science, it will do me nothing but good in life. Any energy put into learning science is guaranteed to be both rewarding in the future, and personally satisfying now. There is no chance of false hope. But having faith in science is such a fucking safe route, no matter how you spin it. I need faith in something else. No, I don't need born again christianity, I just need faith in life. (0r people, or at least something that doesn't involve electrons) Seriously, where did that go? And more importantly, how do you get it back?

C'mon, you know you had it once. When you were little and wanted to be the next Einstein or Fitzgerald or Kurt Cobain. When hard work and honesty paid off in your small, synthetically structured little world. When "Shit" didn't "Happen." When you didn't spend every moment in the present thinking about what it would bring in the future and trying to selfishly strategize for the best possible outcome just so you could be "happy" in the one little life you get; because now you know better than to think that everything will just fall into place.

This brings us back to the beginning of the post. (Fitting, since most paradoxes of life seem to work in cycles anyway.) Nexusy things prove that you can have faith in life, but they only prove it if you beleive in the fallacy of divine proof to begin with (as opposed to random coincidence.) In this way, having faith in life is actually just as certain (or uncertain) as having faith in science. Suck on that. Maybe in the end just having faith is enough to make something work out, at least it can be for a little while, unitil it backfires. After that you're fucked.

Faithful optimists say just give it time and look at the big picture. What they really mean is wash your hands of your own life and be willing compromise everything you really want out of it. It's the pessimists who carpe the fucking diem. Here's to you, Pessimists. Shit happens, and you get it done anyway. Amen to that.

The Six Classes You Will Have In College

Confused about all those different numbers, sections, and capitalized department abbreviations? Don't be. Screw distribution requirements. Here you have it readers, my great wisdom passed down to you as a reward for reading my Juicy Blog. And just because I love you, I've also added a handy "Where can I find one of these?" labelling system, to facilitate the use of this post into planning your own schedule.


The Bitch- When you look back on this semester, you will immidiatley think of this class and shudder. It has a daily, haunting prescence in your life that will only end after the final, and you're already planning on just how drunk you're going to get afterwards. This class meets most days of the week, and despite doing the daily assigned homework and putting countless hours into studying, you still just won't get it somehow. This class is guaranteed to drop your GPA by at least .5 points, and half of the class will have declared it pass/fail or changed their longterm academic plans to accomadate this before the semester is out. End up stuck in one of these? Don't worry, it's painful, but it will make you a better person.

Where Can I find one of these? Introductory foreign language, Core non-introductory math and science classes.



The Joke- Only in the hazy, theoretical world of academia could this actually be considered a "class" by the most technical definition. The daily homework (if there even is any) can easily be bullshitted in the first ten minutes of class, and is probably something hillarious like "keep a journal" or "color in how you feel today." Your final exam probably will resemble an arts and crafts project, and assigned reading (again, if there even is any) is few,far between, and never anything a staple can't hold together. So long as you show up and do a good job of making the teacher think you actually take the "material" seriously, this class has easy A written all over it.

Where Can I find one of these? Non core theatre department classes, Non core art department classes, Maybe some fuzzy interdepartmentals and non core/not intended for majors math classes.



The Class You Forget You Have- Whenever someone asks you about your schedule, you will quickly tell them all your other classes, and then wait five seconds with a puzzled look on your face before you remember what "the other one" is. This class meets only a few days a week, and it's not uncommon for you to temporarily forget your professor's name, the course number, or even where the room is. Even though this class has a pretty hefty reading list, you long ago realized that to even attempt to put a dent in it was futile, so you rely entirely on the notes you take in class (which, inorder to compensate for meeting so few times a week, lasts longer than anyone's attention span). This is OK, however, because you are only graded on 1-3 miniscule "response papers" on short readings, and 2 or 3 big papers that only require skimming the relevant reading for good quotes. There might be a take home final or large,research paper involved (temporarily causing the class's stress levels to approach "Bitch" proportions) but other wise, just show up and your'e solid. By the end of the semester you will have a decent grade, but you will have learned absolutely nothing.

Where can I find one of these? Non core/non intro Humanities and Government classes, Intro interdisciplinary studies classes.



The Good, Solid Class- In times of darkness, this class is your GPA's last glimmer of hope. This class meets often and has daily assignments, but miraculously, it is taught at a level that perfectly matches your competence so you can keep up almost effortlessly. You might even frequently volunteer to talk or do work on the board. This class is what education was supposed to be. Add in a good professor, and it's where Majors are made. So long as you don't totally blow off studying for the final, you're good to go, and you might actually learn a thing or two.

Where Can I find one of these? Lower level foriegn litterature classes, Introductory (100 level) science classes



The Lab- Even though the lab is only worth 1/4 the credit of a normal class at my institution, any experienced Science student knows it should be worth at least half. Yes, it only meets once a week for three hours. But these hours are spent in grave danger: avoiding being blinded by lasers, risking dangerous chemical burns, or downright disgusting (not to mention smelly) experiences. And all for the progress of science...Plus, for every class session, you will spend double that time writing up the weekly lab report, and another few hours trying to figure out the prelab, all while keeping your notebook neat, tidy, and toxin free. Playing around with little cars, chemicals, or dead animals may seem fun and carefree at first, but this class will quickly reach "Bitch"-like stress levels; Especially in that fabulous moment where you look at the clock, see the digits turn to ten or eleven at night, and then remember "Shit! I have lab tomorrow!"

Where can I find one of these? If you can't figure that out yet, you might not be suited for a collegiate education. Have you thought about technical school?



The Life-Defining Extra Curricular- Even though you will not get credit for this org/sport/activity, you will gladly devote just as much time (if not more) to it as you would any class, and sometimes it will stress you out just as much as well. Not only are you a member, you're on the board, and you're tight with everyone else who's involved. This will be your saving grace when you have to write resumes for internships over the summer, and you feel that, in some way, this activity actually helps define you as a person.

Where can I find one of these? (see last answer)

I Just Got Carded...at a Geek Convention

I just recently lost my geek virginity. Sure, I was nervous, felt a little awkward and embarassed aboout it, but it was enjoyable. Really, a nice group of people, comfortable environment, cheap cost, cool craft tables, overall a good time. I was hoping the "character building panel" would focus more on novels and writing than RPGs, but hey, it was an enlightening experience.

But this I was NOT ready For, young and pure flower that I am. Maybe I should have started to have second thoughts when they had to check my ID at the door, or when my friend who also expressed interest in going was nowhere to be found. But I was phoneless and intruiged (and had already paid) So I figured I might aswell give it a shot. The panel title: "BDSM"

I entered a room with a few others, and a man was standing at the front with a striking resemblance to my highschool physics teacher. He proceeded to pass around films that he thought really epitomized the greatness of BDSM/dark fantasy in fantastic and horrific storylines, and I tried my best to not picture him getting off to the stuff. I knew I was in over my head when he asked the crowd "Only reveal it if you want, but can anyone here identify whether they are a top or bottom?"

The 'academic panel' also lead to: "has anyone ever gone to any local demonstrations?" and "Has anyone ever had a full leather mask placed on their head?"I don't know what was sketchier: the guy who seemed to have a little too much to say on the topic, or the fact that he went to a club about 20 minutes from where I live. Then again, there was also the woman with blue hair who looked to be in her fifties. When asked what word she most identified with BDSM, she said "ritualistic." Uh Huh...The panel was also populated by the somewhat large, dykey blond who facilated the RPG panel, a smelly guy with dog ears, a surprisingly sweet and innocent looking redhead, and about five other normal looking indiviuals, one of which is on the crew team. (Just in case you were wondering who would show up to a BDSM Panel in a geek convention at 11 on a friday night in a women's college.) I don't say this often in life, but Thank God I didn't actually know any of them.

Now it takes A LOT to make me feel awkward, especially if the topic is anything sexual. Really, almost anything goes and I'm an open book, but this still somehow managed to cross my threshold. It actually had me quitely doodling in the back, staring down at my desk and taking notes for the purpose of "escapism blogging." AKA: Get me the fuck out of here; the sooner I am writing about this than experiencing it, the better. This feeling quadrupled, of course, when we got onto the topic of "borderline nonconsentual" and when someone made the joke "telepaths don't use a safety word!" This was clearly not for n00bs. My general train of thought upon leaving a polite ten minutes early: Quick! Think of something pleasant and nonsexual: Puppies and Unicorns! Wait, not Unicorns, crap...Butterflies! Damn, that doesn't work either! Um...Kittens! Yes! Puppies and Kittens! Puppies and Kittens!

I need a chic flick and I need it now. Let's not tell too many people about this one, OK?

"Erotic, Soul Destroying Thoughts Engendered By Music"

When one must spend half of their precious Spring Break writing about Art and the Afterlife, one must find ways to keep themselves amused throughout the struggle. That was one of them, this is the other:

Stiffler c. a few hundred AD? Anyway, I was also going to blog about how my orange vitamin water mysteriously turned pink, and even tasted pink, but when I went to photograph it, it came out as orange. I swear to god though, a mysterious change has occured, it is in fact pink. I was going to try to explain this using Beer's law and electron jumping related chemistry, but I just got C+ on a Chem exam I spent all effing weekend studying for, so you might want to ask someone else, as I am clearly not worthy to make such an analysis. (*cries*) Now what the fuck do I blog about?

PS: http://www.leasticoulddo.com/comic/20080324

The Age of the Emoticon: Then, Now, and Forever...

I've come to realize that there are some things in life you can always count on. Ironically enough, I'm not only talking about the friendships that I value and have actually put a lot of energy and caring into, I'm also talking about the relationships that I, for the longest time and even up until now, completely took for granted and were always just sorta there. Now, of course is an all too familiair siutation: talking to random people on AIM in the wee hours of the morning during school vacation.

Who am I talking to? Well there's one guy who I'll nickname Droninator, who IMs me every now and then, I don't really know why. He spent a decent chunk of middle school hitting on me so maybe that has something to do with it, then again he also spent a decent chunk of middle school hitting on everyone, but we had our special time. Plus, last winter break we had a deep little feelings talk which ended with the usual winky smiley, and I have always had some juice-tastic sexual blackmail on him since, like, puberty. (Come to think of it, I have juice-tastic sexual blackmail on almost all of the guys I bonded with between the ages of 11 and 16...damn, I'm special. Not to mention a whore for feelings talks.) Then there's Moose from prep school who is just one of those solid people who always seems to be on the internet and willing talk about nothing in particular when ever you feel like it. I'm no longer talking to "california guy" from middle school thank God, but when boredom lurks, who knows... Actually no, who am I kidding, he was such a perv. Yuck. Anyway, there's also someone I'll now nickname as CherryPopp (sure you can figure out who that is), though he's only become a figure of interest in the past year, and has not yet earned solid random AIMer status. Give it time.

Finally, I'm going to shout out a new addition to this group, but by no means a new addition to life. ShortsInSnow (not sn, blogger code name) Liked me a lot in middle school, but it got awkward when I didn't return the favor. (Too dorky and into star trek....yeah, this when you all laugh like hyenas) Anyway, so I got bored procrastinating a paper about a week ago and decide to see what he's up to in life, and now we're all deeply re-bonded and peachy. (Mixed in with just the right amount of him hitting on me, of course). Once again, go middle school. Moving on in life= so overrated.

Conclusion of all this: You never know who's going to stick around in your life, and it may be the person you least expect or don't even notice now. Oh, and not to sound cocky, but I don't think I need to worry about not getting ass in this zipcode. Like, Ever.

The Week in Quotes- How Else to Kill Time Before April 15th?*

Juicy: *uses mortar and pestle at science fair*
5th grader: Don't they use those to make drinks?
Juicy: No, not really. Not that many people know that they're standard in a bar, and you only really use them for Mohitos.

Juicy: So, do you think the pop rocks made his stomach explode?
5th grader: Ha, no. He probably just wanted to sue the company.

Indeed, the future of our nation is in good hands. Oh, and how could I forget:

"Just as many women [cheat on their spouses] as men, but they don't get caught, notes Moore. "Women are much better liars and they have a plan. They're much craftier." -AOL

Haha, So true. How else do you think we've learned to put up with the patriarchy for all these years. Oh and then of course there was:

Juicy: wOAH!!! *turns around* Oh hey what's up! Sorry, it's been awhile since someone pinched my ass.
Girl in French Class: Really? that sucks.
Juicy: Yeah, I know...
Girl: And that's pretty surprising too...
Juicy: Oh, why thank you.

"Resource Center for Gender and Sexuality- Weekdays: 8am-Midnight"

...Why? Did I mention there's a paper plate on the door that's shaped like a rooster? (*coughcough*Cock*coughcough*)

Finally:

Juicy: "Hey, if you do this summer program you could stay at my place for like a month."
Friend: "OK."
(And thus Juicy's summer plans were revolutionized...in about 2 hours)


Blogger has parties? We are so going...




*It ain't no Etch-A-Sketch. That's one doodle that can't be undid, homeskillet!

Blogging: Mmm Mmm...Good

So It's pretty much been the shittiest mosy dysfunctional week ever (for this month). It's like this entire week has just blurred into one soupy continuum of lame procrastination vs productivity, all dissolved in isolation with intermittent sleeping at the most bizarre and inconveniant hours imaginable. And sadly, from the look of things, it won't be over until the middle of next week, weekend included. I might be sounding a little too JVish here, but seriously, this lifestyle is bad for the soul. Correction-muderous for the soul.

But Blogging is good for the soul, so I'm going to take a break here to talk about one of my favorite blog topics: [just guess] (If you're getting sick of these, please let me know. They're not gonna stop, but I'm curious)

People are very much like protons. (Here of course, I'm referring to hydrogen nuclei in hydrocarbons) For any given hydrogen in a compound, there are hydrogens that are chemically equivalent, and others that are not. When two non-equivalent hydrogens get too close (say, bonded to adjacent carbons) they affect each others magnetic fields in a phenomena known as "Spin-Spin Coupling." Essentially, because the protons have different magnetic properties, they end up splitting each others' signals. These two protons are referred to as "Coupled Protons," and for every neighboring proton that's actually equivalent to one of these protons, the more the signal becomes split.

They say opposites attract, so lets look at a pair of coupled protons like a pair of coupled people. When two people are a little extra interested in one another, it's easy enough for them to literally split each others signals. For example, one party might become shy, so the other party mistakes this for a total lack of interest, or even dislike. In another case, one party could really put an effort into getting the other party's attention, but the other party could just interpret this as an inherent part of that person's personality, or just being friendly. If equivalent protons are like peoples' friends, the analogy still holds. The more friends a person goes to inorder to gain insight on their problems, the more possibilities they come up with for what a signal actually was intended to mean. After the friend group has been consulted, one often finds oneself even more puzzled, now with multiple interpretations at hand. (Unlike real multiplicity, they usually don't neatly follow Pascals Triangle, but you get the idea. I suppose that would just make life too easy.)

But equivalent protons never split each others' signals. So here's the issue: what happens when two friends, once considered equivalent protons by every means, are attracted to each other? Does the analogy still hold? Are they forever blessed with perfect fluency in each others signals? Or perhaps, through some bizarre physical phenomena, the chemistry between them is strong enough to cause a reaction of sorts, which ends up changing one's equivalency, causing problems, and bringing us back to square one. And if something like that could happen, there's always the question of entropy. That is, once this equivalency changing reaction has occured, can the two protons ever really go back to being perfectly equivalent friends?


Seriously, who needs Psychoanalysis when you have NMR....

Confessions of a Rankings Junkie

http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200109/flanagan


It's called "Confessions of a College Councilor" and definitley worth the read. I can't really remember how I came across it, but it's pretty thought provoking, and brought up a lot of good old application frenzy nostalgia.

It gives some interesting perspective on college applications, and just what makes some schools more appealing than others (Yes, parents want the best for their kids, but a lot of them also want to brag about their children's days at Princeton like it's a country club. And if education is so important, state schools often have five times the number of truly well qualified professors than flashy places like Duke or Yale.) It also points out how colleges sell themselves, trying to get as many applications as they can soley so they can reject them just to look more prestigious. (Jerks) There was something else odd about reading it too. The paper referenced and criticized a lot of big name institutions, especially a certain neighbour of mine. You'd think that I would revere this institution, idolize it and be slightly fascinated by it's students who found a way passed its daunting admissions odds. Nope, not really. I've been there, it's sorta the same. (I've also heard they're suckers for ED apps, maybe that explains it)

Hitting more close to home, it talks about a book written by a Yale student who fell in love with the campus on one visit after five minutes, and then worked his as off like no other to get in. (Hmm...sound familiar? Though the infatuation only took about that long, I had known the place since I could walk.) That's another thing colleges seem to really be cashing in on these days- a sortof legitimate romantic attachment hormonally driven teens develop with their top choice. Student faculty ratios and excellent facilities are rarely our real top reason for choosing a college, they're just side bars we can add in to reassure ourselves that we're making a responsible, grown up decision. Oh no, It's "the feel." It's being able to picture yourself on the campus enjoying happy (often overrated, if you ask me) collegiate life. In short, they're selling the dream.

I know about this better than anyone, because I fell for it hook line and sinker. I put up with a prep school that I (at the time) detested, I became an overacheiving, perky, freaked out caffiene addict, I did everything I could, and I still didn't get the thick envelope. Should I be ashamed, then? That I let myself be played by an industry? That I was one in a sea of thousands of brighteyed, hardworking hopefuls who just really, inexplicably wanted to go to Harvard or Brown? Should I have been more savvy than the rest of society and their psycho-obsessive parents? I suppose it's too late for that. Hey, I wanted something, I went for it best I could, there's no shame in that. No one's never a fool. (Though maybe that extra essay was a mistake...) Maybe it's because it's the only I've actually wanted the same thing as a certain unnamed parent, for essentially just the same silly reasons I often criticize him for using with everything else. OK, maybe I should be at least a little embarassed.

As you might have guessed, I didn't get into my top choice college. I love where I am now, and on a recent visit to a certain unnamed Cambridge instituiton I'm hella glad I didn't get in, But I'm still sorta bitter. When I recieved my acceptance to the school I'm at now I opened the package, unfolded the letter half way to glimpse at the first word, then threw it on my bed with the rest of my crap before going to eat lunch. Enthralling moment, really. I actually feel more like I was deprived of that awesome moment everyone should have than heartbroken by the actual rejection letters themselves. (Which, oddly enough, didn't bother me at all last March, but will probably become the major focus of a shrink session when I'm 35.)

Oh Now I remember why I had this all on my mind today. I was in the Career Development Office watching them tear my beautiful sappling of a resume to shreds, when I eyed a "Pre Law" magazine and picked it up. I read that though 80,000 students will apply to Law School in the US, only about 40,000 will get in. Anywhere. I was just entering a mild panic mode and wondering how to incorporate LSAT studying into my sophomore routine when I thought to myself "Oh Crap, are we seriously going through this again?"

Juicy is: too cool for the South couch!

Just as Adam and Eve before them, there comes a time in everyone's life when they realize that they have too much self respect to submit themselves to conditions that they previously deemed bearable. Enter the room of any non-OCD college student, and you will surely find month old pizza boxes, moldy utensils, bacteria ridden cups and cans, and a smelly pile of laundry to rival the Sears tower. All of these living conditions are acceptable to us now, but probably wouldn't fly for anyone above the age of 28. Today I had a similar such epiphany. Yes, this is a prime time for adventerous wanderings into the night, but I don't know how much longer I can (soberly) take sleeping on a common room couch, out in the open, subject to the judgemental glances of any random passerby. (that is, of course, assuming I can get to sleep, what with the snowplow, random generator noises, and lights that don't turn off.) And even if I have the privellege of sleeping in the privacy of someone's room, there's something sortof unsettling about waking up on the floor of a friend of a friend of a friend's place, no matter how many times you've done it. (Especially the ones you've only known for about 5 hours.) I must admit this is a bit of a shock to me, as I surely thought I had at least 3 years of this left, but apparently not. Or at least not regularly and sober. (Yes, drunk is another thing. For that I figure I have at least until my mid 20s.) Till then, lesson learned: if theres nothing happenning, you might as well just go home. And only in rare conditions will you allow yourself to be allured to stay by the ultimate evil. (That, of course, is food delivery until 4am. Spoiled fuckers.)



*sigh* another tiny bit of childhood, lost forever....

Conquoring The Great Divide (The Footnotes Are Priceless)

Who said the Humanities and Sciences were so different anyways? You know, I think they were deeply mislead. In fact, I am currently reporting to you live from my room at around 4am where I can assert to you that I am, in the great style of good English students everywhere, completely bullshitting a lab report. Yes, slinging the old bull for dear life as far as it will go. Maybe this is all substantiated, maybe not, but what do we really know about science anyway? Yeah we can prove theories with numbers and experiments but we never actually get to see it (at least at the 200 level). There is absolutley no reason why Unknown sample E can't be whatever I assert it to be. Further more, who said you needed multiple chromatograms anyway? I have one, it's pretty. In fact, it's symbolic of my monogamous relationship with the subject (at least as far as it knows). The fact that it took me two tries to get a good strip parallels my own personal development as a Chemist: I had to take two chemistry classes to realize how much I enjoy the subject. The strip itself also happenns to be part of a process abbreviated as TLC, which is an allusion to the common saying "TLC" as in "Tender Love and Care" which is what Chemistry and I need to give each other if our relationship is going to suceed. To add a third layer of meaning, it is also the name of a pop group who wrote a song about waterfalls. What better way to bring both Chemistry, love, and chemsexuality into the mainstream than hydrogen bonding and fluid dynamics?*



Yes, if all else fails, I will turn that in. (after you've cited CVS.com more than two times, I don't think you can really stoop much lower...)





*Wow, I didn't even do that on purpose....

One Of Those Mornings

I walk in to my room to grab the remains of my homework, jealous of my comfortably dozing roomate illuminated by the earliest of pink pre-dawn light. I didn't actually have that much to do, but there was the sleeping late, then the oscars, then the me losing my concentration around 2am, but most of all, there were the documentaries...

heres part 1, the rest is on you tube too...
http://youtube.com/watch?v=UIhTXQfiENI

9/11- a corporate conspiracy? Could it have been prevented? This documentary was actually pretty intruiging, then again that comes with the nature of the material. I always thought there was something odd about the footage: plane crashes into tower, tower remains standing, then proceeds to crash floor by floor to the ground. If it was the velocity of the plane that caused such a mass of troubles in the buidling, wouldnt it act more like a domino falling down sideways than crashing downwards? The theory given, of course, is that the steel was so overheated that it either bent or broke, allowing the building to implode in on itself. This documentary claims that the steel was tested to temperatures well over those the fire could have maximally burned to in the building, (and wouldnt this have happenned immidiatley with no pause? wouldnt heat only subtract with time?) along with mentioning some bizarre construction occuring about a week before the attacks, and the random explosion building 7. Overall it was a very convincing documentary, at least until the end when they were like "come down the rabbit hole, welcome to the new wave, its OK..." Creepers. Way to kill a quality program, plus the website screams "send us money." And there are some other questions too- like if it was a corporate demolition, why even bother with planes in the first place? if a jet plane couldn't get that hot, what's to say chemical explosives could? Anyway, they make some good points, and I consider it my responsibility to spread the word just in case they are on to something. (which it seems like they might be) I bet all the fishy things are just people being bought off from AlQaeda. I doubt the US govt's intention is to go that far for a war and authortarian shits and giggles, but who knows. It's worth a peek.


The second one wasn't so mindblowing so no link. It was pretty much everything we already know about how the music industry is comprised of profit driven corporate robber barons who will only sign artists who would rather sell alot quickly than invest in quality acts that could do well with the same amount of pushing but who won't get the support simply because they don't fit the mainstream bracket of what corporations know will sell. (Yes, OSK, I was thinking of you)They also went on to explain (and essentially criticize) how large corporations will group together to promote an artists through every company under its umbrella. (eg. record label does record, artist promoted in partner subsidiary magazine, sell their cd at correlated chain store, etc) Honestly, I don't have a huge ethical problem with this. People wouldn't develop "mainstream only" music if people didn't like it. People are easily bought idiots with poor taste, but essentially the companies are really just profiting off of making them happy. It's a win-win situation between the seller and the consumer. Furthermore, using a profitible aspect of one of your companies to increase the value of your other companies or only doing buisness with artists you know will be successful isn't ethically wrong by any standard, it's good buisness. If you want to be into music because you like the art form and want to take risks, sign with an indie label and be happy with a small cult following. If you wanna be a big star, dress like P Diddy, and be on TRL, sell your creative soul to the devil. The idea of being famous is a corporate entity within itself- not a hard core indie one. You can't really have both, at least not in the same way. It's capitalism, we have a choice. If Indie labels didn't exist that would be another story, but they do, embrace their awesomeness and stop complaining just because the rest of the world hasn't caught on yet. They're also complaining about TV commercials using music. Dude, it's good advertising for both the product and the song simultanously. What's not to love? I know if you're an artist you don't wan't to forever be "the song on the [insert brand here] commercial" but it's a great gateway, and if you're any good you'll out grow your commercial reputation soon enough. I personally consider commercials a prime way to hear good songs. Maybe I am a corporate dominated Zombie, but hey at least my music makes me happy.

But they did make one point- even big names get treated like crap from a mainstream label. Did you know that a band on average has to sell 300,000 records just to break even after what they owe their label/producer from doing a record and video? let alone make a profit...OK, the guilt got me, I'm never illegally downloading ever again. It's also watching things like that that make me incredibly proud to live in the day and age that we do (despite my musical bitching and complaining) because there are now actually a bunch of internet record labels helping lesser known artists promote themselves. Yay technology! Yay globalization! Yay equal-footing on a world-wide platform! Yay Friedman! Yay blogosphere! I am excited to see what the future holds, especially considering that the "in" thing now is really alternative and bazarre stuff (then again, that might just be because I go to a women's college in Mass)

wohooo post 111. Oh, and in the style of Gavrich, I was listening to this song earlier today and couldn't help but add it in:

Hooker with a Penis by Tool

I met a boy wearing vans,
501 s, and a Dope beastie t, nipple rings, and
New tattoos that claimed that he
Was ogt, From 92, The first EP.
And in between sips of coke
He told me that he thought
We were sellin out,
Layin down,
Suckin up
To the man.

Well now Ive got some Advice for you, little buddy.
Before you point the finger You should know that Im the man,
And if Im the man, Then youre the man, and Hes the man as well
so you can Point that fuckin finger up your ass.

All you know about me is what Ive sold you,
Dumb fuck. I sold out long before you ever heard my name.
I sold my soul to make a record, Dip shit, And you bought one.
So Ive got some Advice for you, little buddy.
Before you point your finger You should know that Im the man,
If Im the fuckin man Then youre the fuckin man as well
So you can point that fuckin finger up your ass.

All you read and Wear or see and Hear on tv
Is a productBegging for yourFatass dirtyDollar
So...shut up and Buy my new record
Send more money Fuck you, buddy.

Mailbox Usage: 69%

Ever since I started doing work at the library, I got into the habit of taking little study breaks on the public-use computers in the foyer. After about a month of doing this, I realized that the same guy (old, balding, never takes off his coat, fanny pack, odd strap around the back of his eyeglasses) is on the same computer all the time. I'm assuming he doesn't actually have any affiliation to the school, because if he did he could just log-in on a computer in the lab like everyone else does when they're planning on being online for hours on end, as he often is. This didn't really seem too odd to me until finals week. Usually the library closes at 12, but during finals week it's open till 2 AM. Yes ladies and gents, 1:30 AM on a weeknight, and he's still there. What is his job exactly? Lord knows. What's even wierder is that every time I look over his shoulder, he's always reading something in Russian. Now I don't actually have a problem with random people using my college's computers (even if they might be commies) so long as another student doesn't need one, but last night, he crossed the line.

You see, the most notorious aspect of this man is this: he wreaks. I'm not just talking about post-gym bad BO, oh no, this is a legitimate stench. Perhaps he's one of those people that needs to carry around a bag to pee in or wears diapers or something? I am almost tempted to get a little closer simply because it is by far the most pungent smell I have ever encountered on another human being in my entire life. That is, until I remember it's friggen gross. How did he cross the line exactly? Well, usually I only have to bear light whiffs of this perfume if I happen to be using the adjacent computer, but last night it was too much. By some extension of his super human powers of aromatic radiation, I could not only smell it as I walked by him, but I had to walk down another computer or two, across the main lobby, and then use the computers in the other half of the foyer inorder to evade the stench. Really, if you're going to mooch off of facilities that you in all probability don't pay for at least be subtle about it. And just when I thought that he couldn't have out done himself, it gets worse. I'm leaving the library at 1 AM (yay, extended hours this semsester! I'm so lame...) after they've kicked most other people out (including our friend) and the room still smelled. Ouch.

How does he do it?!?

Yay! Procrastination!

Please, if you find yourself with 10 minutes to spare, humor me....


http://www.quizilla.com/score/display.php?item_id=6677760


let me know what you get!

If This Blog Had Any Credibility, I Think I Just Killed It...

Here it is, Mango Addicts, Juicy's first, last, and only, attempt at a rap. I'm not sure whether to be sorta proud or a little embarassed...Tell me what you think. The working title is 'Life Lacks Epic'


Chorus:
Life lacks epic
Its like an epidemic
people all around me
kept down by the TV
kept down by the police
kept down by the fears of what's comin to be
I swear its the end of the last generation
sometimes wish I was around before the age of information
its like im waiting for some soulful detonation
or at least an excuse to get loose and make a little mayehem
that wont show up on my record when i need to get a job
sick of living for my future life all day long



The other day I went to buy my friend some cigarettes
I had the money and the license but they carded her instead
I said woman this is crazy im 18 and theyre for me
she said sorry honey thats the way it gotta be
Now they wouldnt have pulled that bull back in our parents day
clerk might ask you youre age, but took your word it was Ok
I had a teacher once said he need to 'pologize
i said why you aint done no wrong in my eyes
he says i grew up in the 70s doin all crazy shit
thanks to my generation every thing you do gotta be much more legit
once i heard of a girl goin to school and workin hard
wanna be a lawyer, take the LSAT, pass the BAR
on the weekend shed relax toke some weed with her friends
once the cops busted a party, yah you bet it was the end
one spot on your record they wont never let it go
now she cant be a lawyer and who's to blame? the popo!


[chorus]


Every now and then in highschool id be gettin pretty bored
id say hey lets go out but theyre all playin' 64
then i got to college it was pretty much the same
all itunes and you tube and internet games
now i love a cozy night being lazy just as much as any other
but everynow and then i say come on lets blow this mother fucka
theres a whole world out there and theres stories to be told
crazy fuckas to meet and were only gettin more old
back in the days when you was bored you would make your own joy
get out and about, go on adventures, maybe make a little noise
but today all you need coming to you on a screen
via sattelite and cable and your ISP
now i respect all this has done to make things more comfortable and nice
but i have to wonder what were losing when its all we ever do in life


[chorus]


Once i met a man interviewing me for college
went to Harvard i thought wow bet you amassed a lot a knowledge
he said oh there's not much to say, 'fact I pity you kids today
back when I was accepted I took just 1 AP, barely passed, infact i got a 3
my science project was a bean sprout, and Iwas pretty proud
but nowadays its nothing that would stand out in a crowd
I've interviewed kids taken ten APs, writing their own books, volunteering good deeds
kickin ass on the now 10 section SAT
I've seen everything that was most impressive but I still had to say
you just ain't gonna cut it in this age and day
And you think it's bad here?
Go on East it gets worse overe there
my friend been drinkin coffee every day, skimpin sleep since she was 12
doing standardized test prep, being tutored, and trying to do well
another little girl, she was only six
killed herslef because the pressure wanna make her call it quits.


[chorus]


Yeah, sick of living in this future life all day long...

How Exactly Do You Talk Dirty in IUPAC?

Now at first, I wasn't sure if I really should be publishing this on the internet, especially with so many eager minors reading...

But I guess we can let that slide, after all, it is Valentines Day. So here is a lovely photo for you all, even if you're not old enough to buy it for yourself yet...

Oh, and if you're wondering, the technical name for that, Alex, is [insert Jeapordy Music here] ...3-methyl-2,3-dibutene-1-al? OK I have no clue. Effing double bonds. Happy V Day everyone, and remember to use some (1-methylethyl)benzene!!!

Love and Lies

My lover lied to me. It was horrible. Truly horrible, as if my world was turned upside-down in an instant, and my stomach wished only to do the same. I couldn't belive it. Ever since we were but wee children in middle school and even only mildly acquainted, with no need for lies and deception, I always knew that if there was one thing about Chemistry that I could count on, it was the Octet rule. Sure, any elements beneath the 3rd row can expand octets, and Nitrogen (with its annoying odd number of valence electrons) is better off having less of a full octet than too many, but I always knew that if I wanted to draw a legit Lewis structure, I had to make sure that every atom had 8 electrons associated with it in order to be "happy." Well apparently, that was a lie. All my time spent trying to please my beloved and it was worth nothing, NOTHING! Hmph! All these years I've been decieved, lied to, mistreated, it's really quite unfathomable. To think that you have to draw out almost every possible resonance structure regardless of satisfying the octet rule or holding to the same formal charge, and to think that these could be considered legitmate and add to the stability of an atom. And the worst bit? They can even be counted when trying to determine the most stable product of a reaction. LIES! HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE LIES!

It's times like this if I really wonder if we have the strength to go on. I mean, can an infatuation, even one so deep and passionate as ours was, really make it in the real world beyond a few semesters? And the falsehood....Oh God, I can't even think about it. I have been betrayed, truly betrayed. But perhaps there is some hope for us after all, as if the Fates have stepped in to rescue us from our dishonest past and give us a new chance. Yes, a horrible truth was revealed this week, but it's also the week of Valentine's Day, and then we are finally starting nomenclature. Nomenclature: the reson I fell in the first place, the reason I strove so hard to get us here. It might be a quick fix to a long term problem, I know, but nomenclature, Oh Baby....

Mama, I Love You...

A not so famous psychiatrist once told me that in our romantic relaitonships, we are striving to correct problems we had with our relationships with our parents. (that's probably where Freud comes in.) I would just like to say that I honestly think that that is a load of bull crap. Yes, your parents are the first members of both genders you encounter, and from that you will learn what you like and don't like. But as you meet more people you will gain a more complex understanding of people, and you will gain a more complex view of what you want in a person. Freud says that we look for a partner that is either very similar to or the exact of opposite of our mother or father (depending on your gender and perhaps orientation) but surely this only works on a quality by quality level. Some qualities you might wish to be the same, others the opposite. To make a vast generalization for all of them is completely wrong. (OK i've met my fair share of guys with mommy-complexes, but that's not everyone. Thank God.) In addition, I don't think that people who were abused as children are into S&M, but that's just a hypothesis.

However, someone abused as a child might choose to not have kids so that they never become the evil parent they once had. I think that is the place where we truly seek to rectify the relationships we had with our parents: the relationships we have with our own children. Personally, the only time I find myself wondering about my future offspring or even wanting to create them is when I'm pissed at my 'rents, and I think this makes sense. For starters, how many times have you sworn under your breath that you'll "never do this to my kids." Furthermore, every parent wants to "give their kid what they never had" often times whether the kid wants it not. For example, a parent that felt their parent never gave them enough freedom will give their child far more freedom than they ever had. This child might then grow up to wish they had stricter parents in the long run, be strict with their kids, and the vicious cycle continues. It's like interlocking puzzle pieces of well intentioned compensation and overcompensation all forming the leaves of the family tree.

But back to the topic of relationships. Yup, it's that time of year again, peaches. It was about a month ago when I first took a stroll in target only to see everything from heart-themed dinner wear and kitchen utensils (wouldn't you only use them once a year anyway?) to candy packs from every decade to pretty much any product you could ever imagine in pink and red. I was just about to sigh and start the traditional oh-so-fabulous wallowing in self pity that goes along with the holiday when I realized: "Wait a minute, I really have no reason to be doing this, wtf?" Well that was an indicator if there ever was one. Bummer. (But maybe the mommy complex should have been a red flag after all?) Anyway, till then we can always celebrate Anti-Valentines Day (the 13th before the dreaded day for many) and revel in the color scheme and candy on the day itself just for kicks. Truth be told, I think this is going to be least eventful Valentines day I've ever had. I'm not emo about being eternally alone but there's really no one to make the holiday a total landmark occasion either. (And I already got into college, not that that wasn't fun last year) Oh well, I have a current fling going with all MA radio stations (seriously, they're amazing!) and TRUE Love lasts a lifetime....

Tomorrow bitches! and they BETTER still be dressed like that!!!

WWTvBD?

Perhaps I'm breaking the silence on some sort of unspoken truth amongst nerdy gamers everywhere, but you can tell a shitload about a person by thier Dungeons and Dragons character. The type of creature they are, each added little quirk of personality, the powers they choose, their weaknesses, all reflect (conciously or not) facets of major personalities in the creators own life, hyperbolized and made even more whimsical on the Fantasy RPG playing field.

So just who is Trixie "VonBadass"? I shant bore you with a long, deep, introspective rant. (As I essentially already have, though if you're in the mood OSKs blog will not fail you) but this is a question worth pondering. Come to think of it, I know alot about Trixie, she's been around for awhile. But who are my other characters? And furthermore, which one of them leapt up, cracked her back from lying low for so long, and started to dance around when I found myself sitting around a table of "mostly n00bs, but a few hardcore fantasy geeks and gamers" playing Dungeons and Dragons. Yes, I admit it, I played Dungeons and Dragons. And fuck you VH1, I loved it. Infact, I wish I had discovered it when I was nine (then again, coming up with your own fantasy world is ten times more fun than following someone elses rules, but if I was ever looking for something a little more surprising...and hey, maybe there's a direct correlation between D&D and math skills? I so could have used that.)

Oh, and for the record: Amelita Shinestone was born into an above average, very well to do clan of Pixies. She was a smart and talented young pixie, although a bit bizarre at times. She was unusually skilled with sharp weapons, which she practiced despite her placid parents' frightened disapproval. Her parents quickly grew concerned over her inherently violent nature and quick temper, turning her hair and eyes into a flaming vermillion hue unseen in any other of her kind. In addition, she had no sense of society's laws, morales, or values, especially those of the Pixies. Though she did not torture the weak for amusement, she took pleasure in a well earned victory, and definitley took no pity on those who could not keep themselves up to par. As she grew older, her small clan's persistant, good-intentioned concern for her well being only further agigtated her. When she was 15, after her dozenth brawl with one of her poor peer pixies, her parents sent her to the local PixieShrink. Just before he could utter his diagnosis from what little conversation he could glean out of her, he found himself knocked to the ground. Just before he lost all conciousness, a towering flame buzzing in the air over him in heated rage quipped "I don't need to put up with this shit." That was the last seen of Amelita by any of the clan. A few days later, news of a brawl in a neighbouring area came back to the group. No one knew exactly who was invovled, but when rumor spread that a Pixie had cleverly tricked the unfortunate loser only before attacking him in fiery rage , none of the clan were surprised, despite such an unbeleivable description of one of their own kind. And so she was, nolonger Ameltia Shinestone, but simply that violent trickster Pixie. Trixie: Pixie Barbarian.

Task Force: Soul Exile

Mail voter registration form, fill out health insurance form, buy food, order medication, go to chiropractor, make ATM deposit, get printer ink, get cord for camera, get paper and pick up packet from copy store, go to the gym at some point, wash towel in preparation for guest, get shoes mended, plan out transtportation for next week, call nagging parental, and about 10 more tasks to boot. No ladies and gentlemen, I'm not a soccer mom, I'm a college student. (so at some point at the end of that list I have to add "work") I was just walking (grr, I am no longer a proud pedestrian, I want a car for this shit) to get some of this done when I had a slightly unpleasant revelation: When did I become my mother? It was fun enough when I was three, sitting in my booster seat in the back of the car while she went to the bank and Stop and Shop and ran countless other errands on a nice sunny day in the summer when I didn't have school. Now it's not that it's too much of a pain in the butt- it's nice to get off campus, and I firmly beleive that a solid to-do list can help give life more direction and focus, but this is taking over my life! Every day there's at least two other things that I add to the running task list I've had for the past month, and it never goes away! Being productive and accomplished is one thing, but this is seriously just stupid menial tasks that for some reason or another need to or should be done. This leads me to my theory: Remember how I associated errand running with my mother? You see at first, I liked running errands. I felt accomplished, like I was taking responsibility for my own life, and this was a good thing to a certain extent. But now errands are starting to consume my life, as the list gets bigger and bigger and more overwhelming. The ultimate result- the souless adulthood we all dread. As we get older, instead of focusing on things that give us great joy or put meaning in our lives, we become preoccupied and consumed with all these menial, "necessary" tasks. The result: Hey honey, how was your day? OK, dear, I ran to the bank, met with the kids' math teacher, got some of that pudding you like from the store and [insert suburbian soccor mom list here] Oh and did you call and thank the Jones' for that lovely dinner? How was your day at your dead end cubicle job? Oh sorry honey I forgot I'll do it first thing tomorrow. Well I finished the assignment that was overdue from last week, called up to get the copier fixed again [insert corporate peon to do list here] Oh and I forgot to pick up my dry cleaning, bummer! I like that cornflower blue tie!


*SHUDDER* This needs to change....Now!

Twizzlers

99 Juicy filled posts on the wall, 99 Juicy filled posts.... But I am not just writing to commemorate that. You see, many years ago, a battle was fought between Juicy and a horrible Dragon, referred to by many as "The Dragon Most Vile." This infamous Dragon Most Vile pwned poor Juicy, as Juicy knew deep down within herself that she was not ready to conquor such a beast. Ergo, the Dragon Most Vile laid on her a strong and most frustrating curse, chaining her eternally to those around her who had conquored the Dragon, and limiting her movement accordingly. But over time Juicy matured as a fighter, training herself even within these ramifications, becoming even sharper and more alert. She knew that one day she must prove that she could conquor the beast once and for all, and finally win her freedom. Today, ladies and gentleman, was that day.

Today, after two brief glimpses at the possibility of prolonging the curse (mainly because her armor and sword were not registered properly) and two quick escapes to compensate, Juicy knew the time had come. The duel began. Juicy could have no help this time. No, this was an old score to be settled once and for all. It was just Juicy and the Dragon Most Vile, one on one, their purest powers raging against each other and undiluted by wavering external influences of chance. She was shaking with nerves, and almost turned back on several occassions, but she knew this had to be done.

She got off to a winning start, and stayed strong throughout the battle, but she knew the worst was yet to come. And then finally, it was upon her. The Dragon Most Vile suddenly stopped, paused for a brief moment, turned, and spoke. "Juicy," It bellowed, "The time has come...Choose a space and back in." Time froze. Juicy shuddered at the thought of her last battle, the deep disgrace of failure that was realized at this very point. But no, she could do this now. She was ready. No more dependency on others, no more waiting around, no more lack of respect. She looked around, gripping her sword even tighter, slowly aligning herself with the target. Deep, rhythmic music played in the corner of her mind as she gripped the sword's R symbol. And then, all in one swift defining motion of practiced perfection, she turned, checked, straightened, and parked. After straightening again just to be safe, The Dragon Most Vile said nothing. All of a sudden it let out a whimpering growl: "Get out of your armor and come inside."




Alas, joyous unrestricted Victory. (with a cute picture)