orangesodas

I got strep throat last week. I'm still getting over it and hacking up the occasional green glob (yum!), but I'm capable of walking and biking short distances, and swallowing without feeling like I'm dying. My tonsils could no longer be confused with cottage cheese, so all is well in the world. Will took care of me. Last Tuesday, I ran a 103.7 fever (it went up about three degrees in an hour), and I was extremely grateful for his assistance. It's been since elementary school that I've had a fever that high, and I couldn't even sit up in bed to get a drink, let alone walk to the bathroom alone. He kept coercing me into drinking Gatorade and water, even saying that he wouldn't go pick up my prescription for antibiotics until I finished at least half a glass (so I did).

This threw me a bit (further) behind in my classes. Fun times.

Tomorrow, I just need to pass my French oral exam, which I'm moderately optimistic about, go to another class, and drive home. Also, tomorrow is my birthday, but I'm even less enthusiastic about it than last year. What's the point in getting excited if you can't have your birthday at Laser Quest or Jungle Jim's? Or at least be able to buy your own wine and pretend that life isn't sneaking up on you. :-P If it weren't so easy for me to get a hold of alcohol when I feel like it, I might be excited about next year, but smoke-filled bars and alcoholism aren't really my things anyway. However, more than ever, I love having my birthday on a break; god this sounds corny, but my present is getting to see all my friends. :-D

Also, next week, Dad says that the weather probably won't get out of the 30's.

Holy........!

YES!!!!!

Time to break out the trench coat, goth boots, socks, gloves, and scarf. Time to make hot Chai tea with milk relentlessly, and fantasize about snow.

Edit: No matter how much Weezer I listen to, I can't get "Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats out of my head. It's been stuck in my brain since ACL when Andy showed the music video to me.

Don't you just love it when...

You're in a hurry and all you need is $5 cash, you drive 10 blocks north to the bank, one person just beats you to the ATM and, after you've waited 10 minutes while they slowly learn how to make deposits, you go to your car to drive over to the teller, find that there are no tellers (and no reason for why the bank is closed), drive back around, and in the 20 seconds you were away, three people have just gotten in line for the ATM.

C'est la vie.

So I'll get my flu shot tomorrow.

Mmmm. Today was not so much fun, but I made it up to myself:

Pork pot-stickers, dipping sauce, and that beef and noodle dish I copied from Madame Mam's with a glass of sunset blush.

Stomach is happy. I can sleep well now.

I also found the torrents of the next two Battle Angel Alita: Last Order books, which haven't been released in America yet. The fan translations were actually pretty good, and the plot twist was excellent, something I totally didn't see coming at all. That's what I love so much about that series: I really can't predict what's going to happen next, but it all seems perfectly logical.

I also got four side stories done by the same author, Yukito Kishiro, though I only really liked one of them; they were a little hard to follow and I felt he rushed them. However, a full manga he did (based in the same world as Alita, though taking place decades earlier) called "Ashen Victor" was pretty awesome. I liked how he changed his art style up a bit for it.

Head hurts pretty badly. Off to bed now.

Today is going to consist of a lot of 80's - ish music.

My iPod lineup thus far:
Alan Parsons, Men Without Hats, Hot Chocolate, Duran Duran, Hall & Oates, Prince, Falco, Eurythmics, Devo, Genesis...

And because it sounds 80's, Hot Chocolate is on the list too.

Looking forward to this election being over. Yes, I voted for Obama last week. I could have also not voted and have been just as (un)happy with it. I decided on him for two reasons above and beyond the rest of the pro/con comparisons between him and McCain: 1) Powell said it better than I could: "I think he is a transformational figure," Powell said. "He is a new generation coming ... onto the world stage and on the American stage. And for that reason, I'll be voting for Sen. Barack Obama." Whether Obama is or is not, America thinks he is. Maybe that's what we need. 2) I think that overall, Obama will better protect my civil rights than a McCain administration. Though I better trust McCain with the war, I prefer Obama's policies at home, especially his health care plan. And I think domestic policy is more important right now.

Though I really wish Obama and McCain could hug and govern together, since they both reflect my ideals around 50/50.

I created my livejournal the night of the '04 election to distract myself from the news. I'd kind of forgotten about that until now. Heh. So here I find myself again, eh?

This past week I've had a recurring dream, or at least, a recurring aspect of a dream. Until last night, I was unable to remember what it was that kept causing me to wake up, but I became semi-lucid toward the end of my dream and realized, "Oh, this monster has eaten my face off several times this week. Last time, the car was further away, but this is definitely familiar. Here we go again."

Last night, in my dream, I was trying to get a ticket to see an Alan Parsons Project concert. I had forgotten my debit card in the car, so I went back to the parking lot to get it as Alan walked on stage and the show started. As I hurried toward the bug, I saw something moping around in some trees in the not-too-far distance.

This is one of those things that probably won't sound very terrifying, or even if I had epic art skills, look that terrifying if I tried to render it.

It appeared at first to be a rather pale, naked man, at least 8ft tall, with oddly protruding muscles yet with tiny joints by comparison. It sort of limped awkwardly around, twitching and making noises you might expect from a rabid dog (it was foaming at the mouth a bit too). His head was shaped more like a chimp than a human, though he was by-in-large hairless.

I froze for a moment from curiosity and fear, and observed the creature. At the same time, he turned toward me. I took a step. He started to slowly lumber toward me. I froze again and he froze. I picked up my pace and went onto all fours, bending his knees out like a frog and using his knuckles to push himself toward as he began to leap and bound my direction.

Let it be known that I am not a fast runner, nor do I have any endurance to speak of. Yet the faster the creature became, the slower I went. I knew what was going to happen, but as I was closer to the car the last time I had seen the creature in a dream, I unlocked the car and had opened the door as it pounced and sunk its rotting, misshapen teeth into my face.

I woke up with pounding heart, sweating, and starting to hyperventilate. I'm guessing that I've seen this guy about four times by now.

Why do my nightmares always attack my face? Cockroaches. Monsters. Volleyballs. Always to the face.

But, it did get me up in time to register for classes.

Here's what I got:

History of Rome: The Empire
MWF 11-12

First Year French II
MTWTHF 10-11

Plan II Philosophy
TTH 12:30-2
M 1-2

American Painting from 1860 to Present
TTH 2-3:30

I'm actually third in line for the last class, but I'm positive that she'll let me in even if the line doesn't go down, since I am in the first part of the class, American Painting to 1860. If not, I'll take a class about the reactions of the middle east to western political and cultural challenges, which I think would be very interesting. I might want to take it next year anyway.

My great Aunt Net passed away from a stroke last night. She'd had breast cancer on and off at least three times since she was 45 (and she was about 90 when she died), and had been on chemo for several years. We were going to go visit her in a weekend or two up in Dallas, as it was thought she would live until at least February. But yesterday morning she got up from bed, had a stroke, fell and hit her head. Within a few hours she was incapable of communication and seemed unconscious, so we couldn't go visit her at the last minute.

Though I didn't see much of her in recent years, she was like a third grandmother to me when I was growing up. I saw her usually once a week or so, and she often argued with my grandmother over whether she could take care of my sister and me. Net was a devout Christian, yet from my conversations with her in the past few years, surprisingly progressive considering her upbringing. The last time I saw her was the spring before last, and we spent the whole night together looking through old photo albums. She gave me a print of her father, "Ham" (short for "Hamilton, his, my father's, my grandfather's, and my cousin's middle name), taken when he was a teenager.

They aren't holding a service until her husband, Trent, dies, though he doesn't appear to be in any immediate danger. Trent fought in World War II and hasn't been able to walk in years due to complications from fighting in Japan. I wish they were having a service now; not living in Dallas, it's hard for me to come to terms with her passing. Or maybe I'm feeling close to emotionally neutral because I had expected this for a while, as I did when my grandmother died. That's probably it.

Admittedly, I'm somewhat critical of my body when I take the time to notice it. I have a disproportionately long torso like Michael Phelps. I have itty-bitty lips with a large chin.

Well, I guess those are the two major things. Rather small list.

But I have to say that the best, best part about inhabiting this shell is that when I decide to lose weight or gain muscle, I can do so practically overnight. Right now, thanks to having a kitchen, I'm somewhere between 5-10lbs over my norm. However, on Tuesday night I went for a 13-mile bike ride with Steve and Connor around Town Lake, and when I got back home, I did crunches and a few pushups for 20 minutes.

The next day, I was little sore.

Today, I have slight ab definition on the sides, and a small line going down the middle. My legs, arms and chest have also benefited from the exercise. I can't push my stomach very far from flat if I try, and this is going from having a slight belly for the past few weeks.

Sweet! If I just made it a routine to do one or two heavy exercise bouts a month, I'd probably be (at least outwardly) in great shape again. I love my genetics!

Totally going to the gym after my French test. I would jog or do more pushups, but the nerve in my lower back is acting up, and my upper back is still hurting from when my light board fell out of my closet onto me. That hurt. So I'll have to stick to weight-lifting and biking for now.

I am officially burning in hell now.

We watched this video in French class of Claude François singing the original version of Frank Sinatra's "My Way" (with very different, far more depressing lyrics):



Everyone in class broke out into laughter because toward the end, it's almost as though he went into a seizure that had been steadily building to a peak throughout the video.

I just read on wikipedia that he died in 1978 while trying to replace a broken bulb... while standing in his full bathtub. Claude François was electrocuted.

It was so appropriate, I couldn't help but chuckle.

I think I need to spend less time on the internet.

Probably because I don't like Palin at all (while I'm fairly neutral about the other three), I still find these amusing:




Those are my favorites.
( Here are the others. )

I don't think I'll be voting for Obama anymore since I read about how some of his top advisors worked for the companies involved with the current loan bailouts, he's taken a lot of money from those companies in recent years, how he loved earmarking until he became a candidate, how his tax plan to benefit 95% of Americans will actually raise taxes on small business (which, in the end, is really bad for a lot of workers), and lastly, because I felt he had almost nothing of substance to say during the debates.  While Obama complained about the failures of the last 8 years, McCain was presenting solutions. (Haven't finished watching all of them yet, to let anyone who cares to talks politics with  me know in advance).

That's not to say I love McCain.  Whoever I vote for, I'll be doing so with gritted teeth.

The philosophy exam went badly. I know I did an okay job answering the first question, but I totally screwed up the second. I think I sounded sort of like I knew what I was talking about, though I did address the wrong concept.

Hopefully I'll at least get a D.

For DARING effort!

That's what I get for doing stuff at the last minute. On the positive side, I don't think that I can't handle this class if I keep up better. The questions weren't hard, and he did give us a few in advance. I just got mixed up when I sat down to answer.

During my art history test, the professor asked me if I would share some of the paper I turned in last week with the class next week. I was shocked, and, due to this shock replied in a less than positive manner, "You're kidding me?! I'd had a migraine for two days and didn't even want to turn it in because I thought it was terrible!" She kind of laughed and said that she gets migraines all the time too, and that while it wasn't a high A, it was an A.

I GOT AN A ON SOMETHING.

AN A.

What can I say...?

ego++;

Also, I think I did a really good job answering the questions on the test clearly. I liked the way she set it up so that I was learning as I answered the test. So it wasn't just plain old "Give the title, artist, year, and genre of the following 9000 paintings..." but, "List 10 questions or observations you have about this painting. When you are done, use them to make a thesis that at least partially answers several of your questions." And I actually used the questions to help me notice things about the painting I never, ever would have noticed.



LOL WHY ARENT THE QUAKERS LOOKING AT THE BABY AND ARE POSED THE SAME?! OMGZ THE CURTAIN SEPARATES THE TWO HALVES OF THE FAMILY QUAKER AND KIDDIES WITH WIFE! BUT WEST IS LOOKING AT ALL THE GROUP SO HE UNITES THEM LOLZLOLZLOLZ!

(at least, I hope)

And now, to take a break, then study up for my French test. If I do a good job, I will let myself go hiking tomorrow afternoon instead of studying and waiting until Saturday. And with the weather like it is, that's a huge incentive for me.

As best I can ascertain, this Descartes' ultimate reason that I should believe in God: "God exists because I clearly and distinctly perceive that he exists!"

*face-palm*

And also, because he believes in God (upon which the existence of which everything else depends), unlike an atheist, he can think clearly and trust his judgments even when he isn't thinking about the thoughts that went into him making those judgments. So atheists can never be sure of anything because God is pretty much the proof of everything we know to be true; atheists can't trust their own memory about their judgments, even if they judged correctly, because nothing can be obvious, clearly or distinctly perceived by someone if they don't clearly and distinctly perceive of God. In fact, the fact that Descartes thinks there's a God makes God real, because the idea of there being a perfect God comes very naturally to him, and is so grand an idea that it surely must have come from God himself, not from Descartes!

Really not sure how he makes the connection between perceiving of God and being able to trust your own memory...

I have a test on this rubbish in an hour...

My cats have been jumping into my laundry basket, pulling socks out, and carrying them around the house in their mouths. I found one in the kitchen this morning.

Yesterday I strode away from my French oral exam, cell phone in hand, proudly proclaiming my awesomeness to my mother, who had helped me study over the phone that weekend. Today, I called her after class to let her know that I got below the class average, and my written exam was barely passing.

While, after a year of college, I certainly recognize that the grading is much more strict than high school, I don't understand why my studying reminds me of a despair poster: the more effort I put into anything in college, the less I can expect to see a B, let alone an A.

Several times last year, I stayed up all night several nights in a row to compose a paper. The introductions were brilliant, often related to ancient art history, historical ideals, and effectively linking my thesis to something to which everyone can relate. My hooks were gleaming and loaded with irresistible bait. Exhausted, I would hand my paper in, and a week later, find it branded with a C. This happened in more than one class, more than one time. Actually, almost every time.

Here's the hilarious part: when I put no more effort into a paper than I would while defecating, I would get a B. Maybe a high B. And I use the word "defecate" for a reason, because the papers were absolutely boring, unoriginal, uninteresting, and obvious.

The same goes for my study habits. The harder I work to prepare, the more confident I feel, the worse I do, and consequently, the more I have to deflate when the red pen stabs at my work.

I've tried changing my study habits. I haven't tried going to the tutorial center yet, that's the next step.

But I'm curious if other people at UT are really that much better than I am, or if I am simply putting too much effort into things, or maybe in the wrong way.

Admittedly, my expectations for myself in French are too high. Half the people there took at least a little French in high school. I keep getting things mixed up with Spanish, which I apparently know much better than I did when I took it five years ago. Japanese gets sprinkled in too.

But the trend of me getting C's even when I try really hard has been constant through all my classes. Last semester, despite my mental meltdown and experimenting with anti-depressants (that made things worse), I should have done great at art history - I KNEW what I was talking about, and probably better than most of the class. But nit-pick nit-pick nit-pick, half a point here, half a point there, and somehow, I was below average. Um, what? I spent weeks working my final project for that class, and even learned how to use acrylic paint. My grade? A middling B - and below average. I wrote too much in my paper. Funny thing is, while writing it, it was the first time in a long time that I've ever felt like I was setting the bar for what a truly brilliant, A-grade paper should be. Several people who read it agreed with me. I helped out another girl in the class who didn't really know what she was doing. Yet somehow, she got an A and I didn't.

I want to keep up. I want to do well. But I can think of nothing I've done in the past two and a half semesters that was really a victory. An A, and one I had to work for. It's really killing my motivation - either I'm working too hard, the professors want something easy to grade and unoriginal, or I am a complete idiot.

Bah. I'm not sure what I'm doing here anyway. College is a means to a means, and it's hard to keep feeling like trying when you can't even see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I am considering Texas State's art program, but I cringe at the idea of attending school there for academics, based on what I've heard and seen. Also, Austin has become my home more than San Antonio ever was, minus my awesome friends back in Helotes (love ya'll!)

I am considering staying here and probably having to drop the honors program, not only for the reason that I want to change my major, but because I don't think I can keep a 3.25 GPA.

Or maybe, at UT, I really am just average.

All this talk about the economy failing, a possible second great depression, stocking up on nonperishable food and potentially having to get a room mate to make things cheaper...

I can't help but get this song stuck in my head: Weird Al's "The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota"

</lj-embed>I really don't know why, yet in some strange way, I find it completely appropriate. But I'm not sure if it's because the song represents everything everyone on mainstreet yearns for, the American dream ("Idiocracy", anyone?), or because I simply want to roll my eyes, make some kool-aid, and apathetically watch history repeat itself.

I am glad ACL weekend is over. It was fun, but crazy stressful to a person who is successfully working on developing a neat-freak attitude.  Also, on Saturday night, I meant to get tipsy, not drunk, and by drunk, I mean really drunk. I don't know my limits yet, so instead of having fun, I spent the time bemoaning my lack of sobriety and cradling the toilet. I also got mad at my clay statue and bent it up a bit, simply to revel in destroying artistic ideals. Even inebriated, I'm still a nerd.

What amazes me is that some people like doing that enough to do so on a regular basis... O_o

I never want to go that far again, ever.

..

Last night, I had bow-tie pasta with garlic and herb tomato sauce.

And sauteed onion, garlic, mushrooms, red wine, olive oil, fresh basil, dried oregano, and diced tomatoes. Sprinkled with parmesan.

Nom nom nom! It's also what I'm having for breakfast.

Ah, the freedom of being able to cook! Washing dishes aside, I really, really enjoy it.  It's like painting with flavors.  And it's so, so easy to spice a perfectly normal, boring meal like pasta and tomato sauce into a restaurant-quality dish... though if I could afford artichoke hearts, it would be perfect...

 They are SO cute, but so distracting!  Anytime I try to study, they cuddle up next to me, purr, make bread against my hip, stare at me and close their eyes (cat language for contentment), grab my hand with both paws and start grooming it with their tongues, and hold short conversations with me with pathetic, quiet little mewing noises.

OMGSOCUTE!!!

This morning, I refilled the water jug I keep in my room for them.  As the water filled the bowl, air bubbles occasionally rose in the tank.  Mario kept trying to drink the water as it came out, but freaked out over the bubbles.  He watched from a distance, and even swatted at the water and the tank a few times.

They remind me of children.  They percieve the same world around them that I do, but interact with it on a completely different level.

My cute little dum-dums ^^

ACL is coming up soon, I have a lot of work to do on my apartment first.  William and his cousin, Jay, want to come too, so for three days, it'll be seven people to a bathroom. (Yeah, Will and I have resumed friendly contact, I am happy to say).

I can't decide if I want to let two people take my bedroom, which will keep one person off the floor, or if I should make two people sleep on the floor and enjoy my bed, alone, with privacy.  The guest list includes Sean, Alex, Steven, Steven's girlfriend Lisa, Will and Jay.  I have my bed, which fits two, my guestroom, which can have two beds from the daybed I keep in there, a large, very comfortable couch, a small, very comfortable couch, and room for two queen-sized inflatable mattresses in the living/dining area if I push some furniture around.  My room could also fit an inflatable mattress if I moved my papasan chair over.

Hm.  Think I'll take the bed.  I'm already sharing the rest of my place for three days, seems reasonable to keep a room to myself.  Guys are tough, they can take the floor :-P

Tonight, Plan II held a meeting for all the sophomores. They asked us to think about our passions while trying to develop our senior thesis (which we started thinking about last year - it's a huge deal to Plan II).

I sat there.

"Shiiiit... passions?" I thought.

"I like Photoshop. I like my kittens. I like red. I like to doodle. I like to solve problems. I love ancient history and civilizations, especially the Romans and Greeks. I like art."

And I realized, Plan II is the high school experience I should have had.  Except, this isn't high school. This is college, I'm paying for it, and I'm going to try to get a job with it.

There was a massive raise of hands at the questions, "How many of you are pre-med? Pre-law?"

Big, nice, six-figure jobs.

I sat there with my arms folded across my chest. I want a small house. Less to clean. I want to travel, live comfortably, cook, raise a kid, maybe two. Have comfortable furniture, tasteful, second-hand or home-made decorations. I don't need a six-figure paycheck, and if I save up and play life right, maybe I could still rebuild that Stingray.

These kids... they're all going to be wealthy. Odds are, a few will be Rhodes scholars.

That's really respectable, and I wish them the best.

But frankly, from what I've seen, philosophy is bullshit. Arguing about the definitions of words and concepts, and rather than searching for truth, searching for the right argument to convince others of what might be a truth.  It reminds me of a popular approach to religion.

I like the classic books we read last year. That was cool. The TC classes are great.  I won't deny that all of my Plan II professors have been great.

But you know, the honors thing is a hell of a lot of work, and I like having time to live my life. To get the kind of grades I need to stay in Plan II, I would need to sacrifice more of my life to studying than I am naturally willing to do.

And if I graduate Plan II, double or triple with whatever degrees, then what?

What do I want to do?

Teach history? Own a graphic design business?

Not enough money in teaching to support a family comfortably, though helping kids would be its own reward, and I mean that earnestly.

More money in graphic design, enough to help put my kids through college, enough to travel.  But you can't get into graphic design without a portfolio.  I've done quite well on my own with almost no classes, but I haven't got the skills I need to build a well-rounded portfolio.00

Maybe I shouldn't have taken all those AP's in high school, and pursued art classes instead... yes, I should have. Where I want to go in life, an expensive, extensive education isn't going to help. Sure, I like the topics, sure, I would love to major in history and satisfy my insatiable curiosity. I want to know all that can be known. I want to be well-rounded and steeped in the classics.

But I'm on my parent's dollar, and when I think back to my childhood, I think of that box of paper my parents gave me, the crayons, the paints, the books I wrote and illustrated, the slide-show style "movies" about dinosaurs, and painting "Tigger Stripes" on myself with water colors.

I'm no Leonardo. But with training, I think I could domesticate my wild talent, and let it blossom... and in a way that could make me enough money to be anywhere between comfortable and pretty well-off.  I like the challenge that commerical art presents, and that it it allows a compromise of fine art and practical living.

I'm going to talk with some advisors and mull this over for a month or two, but I need to pursue my future profession, and Plan II alone isn't going to do it.  Hopefully the art school will let me in next fall. Or maybe I'll go outside of UT.

Washington University would be totally awesome... :-)

But, that move can wait. It'd be less expensive to stay in state, and I don't think I am ready to leave my safety net of friends just yet. I love Austin. I like UT. I am proud of my apartment.

I'll make it up to Seattle when I finish my education, and have lost my fear of being alone.  And if I haven't found someone to share love with by my mid-thirties, I want a job that will let me be a single mom to an adopted kid, in a small house in the suburbs.  Maybe within sight of the Space Needle.

Graphic arts it is then.  Cheers.

Due to three individual opinions on the subject, as well as my own observations, I have decided to get slightly buzzed on wine before my French test.

I am also very tired, so I am getting very buzzed on iced tea.

Faaaaaaaaaaaaaantastic...

Wish me luck.

Mike/Andy (though I am leaning toward calling him "Mike" now instead of "Andy"), got "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego" to run on my computer. We were both surprised that simply doing the Windows compatibility mode thing actually worked. Yay for Quicktime 2.1!

Fun game... though being called "Gumshoe" by the chief always felt weird.

We also had delicious cake and watched "Team America", and I put together a yummy dinner. I boiled chunks of chicken breast in chicken broth with soy sauce, sesame oil, and oyster sauce. Then I fried up fresh garlic and ginger with shiitake mushrooms and bamboo shoots, dumped them and a lot of green onion into the chicken soup, and served that over steamed rice.

Nom nom :-)

I loved eating healthy(ish) food that tastes better than the stuff that's bad for you.

Though the cake was undoubtedly unhealthy.

I have been watching "South Park" online, and am very, very tired of the video ads of a lady holding up an Intel Centrino 2 and sayingt of "So, this is the thing inside my laptop?  This is the thing that makes it all work?  Wow, there's a lot going on in there!"

And then, she decides it must also be sentient and capable of communication: "If you can here me, hellloooo in there!"

*face-palm*

Reminds me of a certain motivational poster...



Maybe I should pretend to be offended by it from a sexist standpoint (rather than sheer annoyance at the stupidity of the concept) and start a feminist lawsuit against them... might get enough out of it to afford some Starbucks.

Though they did balance it out with their other, slightly less annoying ad, in which a male processor is talking to a female Centrino 2, who begins bragging about how busy she is, and he's like "WOAH don't forget to breathe!"  Then, instead of breathing, the Centrino has two heart beats.

On second thought, forget that last one.  They have a third ad in which a guy tells a chick to be quiet, because the processor is sleeping to conserve battery power...

Ugh.

At least I get free "South Park" out of it.

"Spore" is really addictive, though not the game I had been expecting. A little less scientific than the ads made it sound like... whatever, it's fun, and I've been waiting since 8th grade to play it. Probably near to six years.

Dinner tonight was the yummy. I sautéed fresh garlic, chopped onion, dried basil from my herb garden, oregano, olive oil and red wine, mixed it with alfredo sauce, and put it on some bow-tie pasta. Sucked it down with red wine and water.

Last night I went to the Blanton Student Guild Meeting. I want to get trained to give tours of the gallery.

Kittens seem to be doing WAY better, though Mario started breathing really quickly again.

Sean came by last night and we hung out with Mike/Andy (still haven't decided which name to call him by) and played "Spore" together. Sean crashed in my guestroom and organized my manga collection around 5am because he couldn't sleep. While doing so, he discovered "Battle Angel Alita" (aka best manga ever, which almost no one seems to know about). So I am glad to have converted a friend to the series, which is amusing, because I did so without actually trying as I have in the past.

Also, Mike/Andy showed me some very, very happy teapots. Thank you, somethingawful.com!



Toward the end of the collection, there is a hilarious life story of two teapots and their son. I laughed, and, like all things funny, I'm probably going to hell for it.

And finally... why does everything seem to have phallic potential in "Spore"?