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Dear Occupant  Since when do I have a personality that knows RUSSIAN?!? Yeah, like I'd actually delete something that says, "Delete this!" And, I read them *in* order, so even when you weren't making sense, you were still making sense...does that make sense? I have a class from now until 5. I'll write again then. Hi again! Sorry, I have the vague impression that my last e-mail ended on kind of a downer. Sorry about that! ...and I was in such a good mood, too. Well that's not going to happen today! Nosireebob! Not today! Today I have that test in that class that I haven't bought the book for. So how could this e-mail POSSIBLY end on a low note? I'm so nervous that I'm too terrified to even crack open my notebook and study! Has that ever happened to you? I'm guessing not? I know its never happened to ME! No, this is a completely *new* experience. Yippee. Right now, I don't know what I don't know (it makes sense- trust me) and so I can't really worry about it. But, BUT! If I peek at my notes, I'll be thinking, "Oh, CRAP! What if he asks us about THAT?!? I don't know THAT!!!" But, of course, we all know that he's going to ask all of THAT of which I know nothing. And, apparently, when I get incredibly nervous, my sentences turn all funky. But you've probably noticed that. I'm starting to get worried, though. I know I'm going to have essay questions and I can't let him notice the funkiness of my sentences which I know that you've noticed, and I've noticed it too, but if HE notices, I don't know what he'll do because he's a really, REALLY anal guy when it comes to grammar and stuff. For the love of Pete! He's even assigned a paper that he wants done in APA format! Not good ol' confusing MLA! No, that's too easy! APA! (I just had to check because I got a really sick feeling because I was thinking that the paper might be due today, but it wasn't and I'm relieved and I'm babbling and I'll stop, now.) So! No low notes here! Its all happy, happy, HAPPY! And I just glanced up and NOW I'm all worried that I'm giving off a gay vibe by saying he's an anal guy and for the love of Pete. No, that's GOOD! If I worry about THAT, something trivial and stupid, I won't worry about the TEST, which is also pretty trivial in its own right, seeing as how it only just counts as HALF of my freaking grade. And I don't know how he tests, or what material he likes to emphasize, or... why-o-why can't I worry about the gay vibe thing and leave this test alone? Aaaugh! So. ANY-hoo. I was just checking my e-mail box. I was hoping to find a letter, any letter no matter how short or stupid. I wouldn't even have minded getting multiple forwards of the same fifty-year-old jokes. But no. All I got was Publisher's Clearing House, Online Gambling, and advertisements for Porn. A lot of advertisements for porn. Which, actually could have been a lot of fun, except that I'm sitting in a Library and stressing out over a test that I shouldn't be stresing out over because I've been paying attention and I showed up to *most* of the classes and HEY! Its Public Relations! I'm smart enough so that MOST of this crap should be common sense nonsense thatI can just bluff my way through no sweat. So why am I sweating like a hog and why-o-why are my sentences getting long and funky and how did I go from porn to telling how I paid attention in classes in the SAME SENTENCE?!? It boggles the mind. Truly. So, anyway. Just checking in. I'm full of nervous energy and typing at the speed of light seems to be helping. Actually, it's hitting the delete key that's eating off MOST of my nervous energy! I'm shaking so bad that I'm hitting every key a thousand times in the space of a second, ssooo alll off mmmy wwoords aareee hharrd too reead. But I'm fixing the problems as fast as I can. I think I caught MOST of them, anyway! So. Um. Aauugh! I STILL have to kill an ENTIRE HOUR?!? Well, I'm going to go. I'll read a newspaper. Maybe there'll be some nice draft called into effect or a major spill of chlorine gas somewhere in my immediate vacinity... just ANYTHING to take my mind off of... that thing that I'm keeping my mind off of. WOW! You couldn't have picked a more appropriate subject line! It describes today PERFECTLY! Rain, rain! Go away! Come again when I don't have to drive at night because people in Pensacola seem to forget how to drive when it gets even the *slightest* bit drizzly and dark, wet roads combined with morons who drive without insurance OR headlights is NOT my idea of a good time! Dang. That didn't rhyme. > I'm not having the best of days so far. In fact, > I'm feeling downright belligerent. Maybe I shoudn't > choose *now* to resond to your letter, but, we'll > see. Oh, THAT'S the rain on the parade you were talking about! WHEW! I was afraid you were going to say you're some undercover FBI agent person and you're trying to entrap weird sickos who try to lure innocent college girls to Las Vegas. Thank Goodness that wasn't your news! By-the-way... it's sort of off-topic, but I just might have an "extra" ticket to Las Vegas... > You know, until my last email, I really never > disageed with you on anything. But I realized that > you countered nearly everything I said, which, > truthfully, makes your letters interesting. Would > you really prefer that I DID agree all the time? > "Yes, Stephen, you are ALWAYS right. You are the > Light of the Earth, Stephen. No, everything I > believed in was a fallacy, all wrong because you > said it was." > I swear, we'd run out of things to talk about VERY > quickly. Yes. I wouldn't mind if you'd agree with me all the time. I wouldn't mind if EVERYONE agreed with me all the time. BUT! That doesn't mean we'd have to run out of things to talk about! We don't have to just talk about how *right* I am all the time! We could discuss the other ways in which I am so very cool. Now, don't get me wrong: I don't feel comfortable talking about myself for long periods of time... but hearing other people tell me how wonderful I am? I don't think I could *possibly* get tired of THAT! ...Lord knows I haven't exactly had the CHANCE to get tired of it. And it would be a nice change of pace. > The school I WANTED to go to is a small, private > school in New Hampshire. There's some drama > associated with this tale of woe--not something I'm > sure you'd like to delve into. But if you're THAT > bored (and I think even *you* couldn't be that > bored) it's all explained in my old Deadjournal, > which is easy enough for you to find without my > telling you how. All you need right now is me > giving you *instructions* on how to get there, > right? I'm afraid to ask for directions. Oh, nothing personal. It's just... I'm a guy. One of the many things I've learned from television is that I'm not allowed to ask for directions. I'm sorry, but apparently its a pretty firm rule. There's really nothing I can do about it. But, tv has ALSO taught me that you, as a female, are supposed to take great pleasure in lecturing males on a wide variety of topics. So, if you want to tell me how to get to a deadjournal, go right ahead! > Low-tar cigarettes and drinking Drano-Lite?...Yeah, > sure. That's EXACTLY what I meant for you to do. I KNEW it! Help! She's trying to kill me! And I can't stop drinking Drano-Lite! Tastes great AND less filling! > So are you some kind of health bug? HA! > As in, you go around demonstrating against harmful > habits and such? Do you have a megaphone? I can > almost picture you standing outside a dope cafe in > Amsterdam, waving around a picket sign that says, > "Wat is je antidrogerij?" (Probably not > grammatically correct, but I don't speak Dutch, so > there!) I have no idea "wat" "is je antidrogerij" means. >...Yet, you drink? *GASP* Who told you?? Actually, no. I don't really drink. I'll get together with a few friends maybe once a month and have a few beers ("few" means two, max), though. I'm a real light-weight and I don't like to get drunk. It makes me all dizzy and, anyway, I'm not a fun drunk. I'm not even fun when I'm GETTING drunk! I played that stupid "quarters" game *once* and I suck at it. And I'm a sore loser. And drinking those stupid vodka shots 1)didn't help me play better and 2)didn't make me any less of a sore loser. And EVERYONE thought it was *hilarious* to give me their shots. I eventually got *real* p.o.'d so I staggered to the other room and watched the tv spin. Yeah, everyone hated me for breaking their "game ain't over 'till you can't stand up" rule, but they got over it. > Anyway, Quasimodo the Activist...there's a bit of a > ring to that. Oh, good. A nickname. The activist, huh? Sweetness, you're not going to find a more unhealthy person around. I eat crap ALL the time. I think I'm allergic to "healthy" food... except for those apple-cinnamin rice cakes- I've become addicted to 'em. I smoke when I'm around friends who light up. I... what's another bad habit? I can't function in the mornings without a Coca-Cola. Seriously, I went for a month, once, without any Coke. A friend bet me I couldn't do it. Seriously, I was going through MAJOR withdrawals! Headaches and stuff. It was terrible. So, yes, I do my part to get people to be healthy. I just see my part as providing the perfect bad example. Hey, in a three mile run, though, I can whip most of the people I've met! It has to be three miles, though. I've never been able to sprint worth a crap. I didn't do wonders for my track team in High School. > Today I am officially changing my major to > officially nothing. I'm soooo glad, too. The only > thing I can see when I try to imagine myself as an > aquaculture/fishery/wildlife biologist is me wearing > red and black flannel shirts, waders held up by > rainbow suspenders, and an old baseball cap with the > words "Bubba Jim's Bar-B-Q" on the front, all while > I'm collecting samples of pond scum to test for > variants in a microbial species...not exactly what I > want out of life. I think I have a hat like that. > *Maybe* I could handle the rainbow suspenders, but > that would take high quanitities of alcohol and a > Swedish drummer named Marco. ?!? Marco? There's an expression- if you have to ask, you probably don't want to know. > Of course, if I wanted to, I could just wear > whatever I wanted. But somehow I don't see a > woman's power suit working well by the side of Lake > Hartwell...or would it? Anyway, out with the old > major and in with undeclared! I think you'd look fine. Until that one wrong step and then you'd look like a drowned- though fashionably dressed- river rat. I used to be Undeclared. Sigh. Those were the days. > I'm not sure if I can play those NES games after > all. I mean, I was a little concerned when a > warning message popped up, indicating that I needed > to have the games deleted within 24 hours, or > something to that effect. If I have to actually > download something to be able to play, I don't think > I'm allowed to. But once I get my own computer, > it'll be different. Hey, yeah! That's what *I* thought! "When I get my own computer, it'll all be different! I'll get my papers done in record time! I'll finally finish one of my books! I'll be able to keep all of my short stories on one disk so I'll always have them!" What a load of crap. With research papers, sure, you can write them faster, but they're WAY to easy to correct. I can sit there and keep rewording one sentence until my fingers hurt. When I wrote them out, it was on paper. If I decided I didn't exactly like the wording, screw it- I'm not rewriting a whole paper just to perfect one lousy sentence. And my book and my short stories? I've taken to doing the bulk of my writing in class, so all of my stuff is written on scratch paper, or is scattered in a half a dozen notebooks, providing "filler" material in the gaps where I should have been taking notes during Statistics. > Whoa! You actually have roller skate shoes?!? > I...I don't know what to say to this. I know! Is patheti-sad a word? The darn things feel like ice-skates, though! I know people have said the same thing about roller blades, but either they're lying, or they've never been on ice-skates. > I'm currently debating whether or not I should dress > up as anything for Halloween. I could succumb to > peer pressure and even go trick-or-treating, but I > haven't seen the fun in that since middle school, > and somehow it seems like nothing will be any > different this year. But I may dress in black, just > to be festive. I may also buy candy to hand out, > and I *might* even hand it out, too! Okay. You are now officially NOT allowed to make fun of my roller-skate shoes. Some sports bars have costume contests. Sometimes that's cool. Or, you could join a wave of mass vandalism. Ever put antacid tablets in a car battery? > Red Dragon, I figure is connected with Hannibal, > which I've heard is connected with The Silence of > the Lambs, which I've never seen. But where does > Anthony Hopkins fit into all this. Is he a good guy > or a bad guy? I'm a little confused. I should just > sit down and watch all of them sometime, because > maybe that will clarify a few things. Or maybe I > should just stay under my rock and continue to not > care. I certainly hope its all warm and cozy under your rock. You know, though, you could pull a book or two or three under there with you. Books like Hannibal? Red Dragon? You know- things like that. Its like having little movies you can carry around with you and watch in your head! What will they think of, next? Anthony Hopkins is a bad guy. The character he plays, though, isn't so cut-and-dried and easy to define. ;) Hannibal Lecture is bad in Silence of the Lambs, but he's not the main killer-guy that we're after. We need his help to catch the main killer-guy. In the second movie, Hannibal, we're trying to catch Hannibal, but we get a different bad killer-guy, instead. Red Dragon is before Silence of the Lambs, but its the same idea- Hannibal is bad, but we need his help to find the main killer bad-guy. Ya' got me? > Ok, here's why I'm upset today. A while ago, one of > my scholarships was cancelled. It was the BIG one, > and I had to replace the difference with a loan, > which is such brutal irony that it makes me want to > scream (if you read about the New Hampshire school, > you'll know why). I've written to the SC Commission > of Higher Education and told them what my situation > was and why I felt I still deserved that money, and > guess what. They said there's nothing that can be > done about it. Absolutely nothing. Nothing, > nothing, nothing, at all. It's so frustrating. > But, my financial aid advisor suggested I write to > my local representative and see what happens. Why > not? I've got nothing else to lose. I should > probably find out who my local representative > is...yes, that would be a good idea. > I have an exam today. It counts for half of my > grade in the course. I should probably go study for > it. However, it's the introductory course for my > soon-to-be-changed major, so it's not even > important, and if I really want to, I can just drop > the class and not even worry about taking the exam. > I've been advised against that, though. A junior in > my major told me to keep taking the class and just > count it as an elective. He says it's an easy 'A', > but I'm wondering how easy an 'A' it is, because > he's *also* taking it with me...I'm sure it's easy > if you're interested in the subject, and if you've > been paying attention all along (which kinda' goes > back into being interested in the subject) but if > you've been like me in any way, this DEFINITELY is > not the case. I think I may fail, perhaps pass by a > small margin, if I don't study. I'll study, just in > case. I'd hate to change my mind in the future and > discover that I really do like waders and rainbow > suspenders, but then have to take the introductory > course all over again. Um. Huh. I hope you were just venting and didn't want, like, advice or anything. I suppose I could think of *something* (I hope I'm not lying), but I'm not in a real serious, "let's make a masterful, strategic plan" kind of mood. I can always reread it, later, when I'm in a "the system sucks, let's all come together to destroy it from within" mood. > What about you? Have you changed your major since > you started? Or have you always known you wanted to > be a witty jackass since the beginning? Ooops! > How'd that slip out? Uh, Freud, you're slip is showing. No, I've changed my major one or two times. Or three or four times. Its taken me three years to get a two-year degree. How's THAT for impressive? Hey! A WITTY jackass? I've never been called THAT before! I've been called something similar and more concise, though. > Actually, I'm guessing you're not in an applied > science or technology...and you're ruthlessly > articulate...maybe something in the humanities, but > not a language...an art, perhaps, or study...law? Ding, ding, ding! We HAVE a winner! Law it is! > You could SO be a lawyer. Man, I hope so. I don't want to have to change majors AGAIN! Actually, I'd rather go into medicine. I really wanted... want... wanted to be a doctor. BUT! Med Schools don't *care* that I excelled in Anatomy and Physiology I and II. In fact, they would rather I hadn't had any Anatomy AT ALL- >>they'll<< teach you all the Anatomy you'll need to know. No, they want you to take MATH classes. So I took Statistics once... twice... three times a loser. But, hey. Law is cool, too. I can always practice Medical Law, right? > Or maybe some kind of politician, the way you twist > words around. That's slander! No, wait. That's LIBEL! I'll sue! > Or better yet, a campaign speech writer. That's > it! It's you! It's perfect. Oo. And doesn't that just *sound* like fun? Giving OTHER PEOPLE clever things to say? No, not for me. Think about it; its a no-win situation. What if you wrote a particularly FABULOUS speech? You don't get credit for that. No one really notices the guy drinking a glass of water who has his hand shoved up a Dummy's butt. NO! The Dummy's comes across as the brilliant one, spewing intelligence at media swine who manage to screw everything up. And what if you wrote a particularly FABULOUS speech and the moron you wrote it for completely screws it up? What then? You have the moron looking for "better speech writers." And if you write a stinky speech that the moron delivers and the media loves every word? They think its the most wonderful thing they've ever heard? (Believe me, it happens.) Then you lock yourself in a dark hotel room and contemplate suicide. You wonder, why do I even try? I could've just been phoning the crap in all these years. Is THIS why I went to school all those years? And what if you wrote a stinky speech that WASN'T received well? Well, I hardly see how you'd win in THAT situation! Did I leave out any combinations? Well, if I did, trust me- they were all no-win situations, too. You know I'm right. I'm ALWAYS right! It's a curse, really. ;) > I have to go. > I'm not signing off with "Cheers" this time, oh, > Stephen, Light of the Earth. That actually has a nice ring to it. I'm sorry I really haven't been writing. No, I don't count making a few comments on something *you* wrote as writing back. I've just been so darn BUSY lately! I have tests coming up for classes that I haven't even bought the books for, yet! And the worst part is... and this is just awful... I'm busy ALL the time, but I can't see where I'm DOING anything! It's like, I've been busy ALL day, it's just been one hectic rush ALL day long... but I don't really remember doing anything, you know? Does this make any sense? No? Probably not? Well, I had to be in Pensacola this morning at 8:00. I was doing a thing for Sightline... I read to the blind over the tv set. Its kinda cool. Okay, so I was up by six to leave by seven to get there by eight to read at nine. And traffic sucked this morning. There must have been a wreck, or something. So, anyway, it was one mad dash. And then what? I sat and read the newspaper for two hours? I didn't do anything! So, at eleven, I was free to go. I made an hour drive BACK to Milton to meet a friend for lunch and then an hour BACK to Pensacola to make a one-o'clock class. BACK to Milton to pick my brothers up from school at three-thirty. I took them to eat. I ran a few errands- I got a socket wrench that I've only just needed for a month, now. Then, I took the brats home and drove back to Pensacola in the pouring rain, but traffic sucked SO bad that I was thirty minutes late for class. The Instructor takes roll at the very beginning of class, no exceptions. So, since the roster says I wasn't there for class, I'm not there for class. I asked a friend to take good notes, and now I'm in the Libarary, talking to you. See? I've been busy ALL day, running from one thing to another and I haven't DONE a DARN thing! There has GOT to be a better way! Seriously, I HATE the dorm rooms... but they're starting to look more and more attractive to me. Sure, they're tiny... but they're here. Sure, my baby won't get to sleep in a garage, but... nope. I can't do dorm rooms. Well? Maybe? I'll have to think more about it. And I need some freaking SLEEP! I can't sleep anymore, and when I DO, I've been having these pretty funky... just surreal dreams. On one hand, I wish I could remember more of what happened in them, but on the other hand... I'm not sure I *do* want to remember. You know? Well. Have you heard enough of my whining? Sorry about that. That's more than you needed to know, right? Well. I'm here now and a bunch of people are watching Monday Night Football in the Commons area, on the big screen tv. I guess, since I skipping class, it wouldn't hurt to be with people, right? Another good thing about the dorms is that I'd be more comfortable drinking if I didn't know I had to make a long, dark, rainy ride home. But I really don't like the dorms. I'll need to look for an apartment in Pensacola. You know... when I have time. HA! Ha, ha, ha! Shoot me. I'll talk to you, later. ...you've been warned. I'm not having the best of days so far. In fact, I'm feeling downright belligerent. Maybe I shoudn't choose *now* to respond to your letter, but, we'll see. You know, until my last email, I really never disagreed with you on anything. But I realized that you countered nearly everything I said--which, truthfully, makes your letters interesting. Would you really prefer that I DID agree all the time? "Yes, Stephen, you are ALWAYS right. You are the Light of the Earth, Stephen. No, everything I believed in was a fallacy, all wrong because you said it was." I swear, we'd run out of things to talk about VERY quickly. The school I WANTED to go to is a small, private school in New Hampshire. There's some drama associated with this tale of woe--not something I'm sure you'd like to delve into. But if you're THAT bored (and I think even *you* couldn't be that bored) it's all explained in my old Deadjournal, which is easy enough for you to find without my telling you how. All you need right now is me giving you *instructions* on how to get there, right? Low-tar cigarettes and drinking Drano-Lite?...Yeah, sure. That's EXACTLY what I meant for you to do. So are you some kind of health bug? As in, you go around demonstrating against harmful habits and such? Do you have a megaphone? I can almost picture you standing outside a dope cafe in Amsterdam, waving around a picket sign that says, "Wat is je antidrogerij?" (Probably not grammatically correct, but I don't speak Dutch, so there!)...Yet, you drink? Anyway, Quasimodo the Activist...there's a bit of a ring to that. Today I am officially changing my major to officially nothing. I'm soooo glad, too. The only thing I can see when I try to imagine myself as an aquaculture/fishery/wildlife biologist is me wearing red and black flannel shirts, waders held up by rainbow suspenders, and an old baseball cap with the words "Bubba Jim's Bar-B-Q" on the front, all while I'm collecting samples of pond scum to test for variants in a microbial species...not exactly what I want out of life. *Maybe* I could handle the rainbow suspenders, but that would take high quanitities of alcohol and a Swedish drummer named Marco. Of course, if I wanted to, I could just wear whatever I wanted. But somehow I don't see a woman's power suit working well by the side of Lake Hartwell...or would it? Anyway, out with the old major and in with undeclared! I'm not sure if I can play those NES games after all. I mean, I was a little concerned when a warning message popped up, indicating that I needed to have the games deleted within 24 hours, or something to that effect. If I have to actually download something to be able to play, I don't think I'm allowed to. But once I get my own computer, it'll be different. Whoa! You actually have roller skate shoes?!? I...I don't know what to say to this. I'm currently debating whether or not I should dress up as anything for Halloween. I could succumb to peer pressure and even go trick-or-treating, but I haven't seen the fun in that since middle school, and somehow it seems like nothing will be any different this year. But I may dress in black, just to be festive. I may also buy candy to hand out, and I *might* even hand it out, too! Red Dragon, I figure is connected with Hannibal, which I've heard is connected with The Silence of the Lambs, which I've never seen. But where does Anthony Hopkins fit into all this. Is he a good guy or a bad guy? I'm a little confused. I should just sit down and watch all of them sometime, because maybe that will clarify a few things. Or maybe I should just stay under my rock and continue to not care. Ok, here's why I'm upset today. A while ago, one of my scholarships was cancelled. It was the BIG one, and I had to replace the difference with a loan, which is such brutal irony that it makes me want to scream (if you read about the New Hampshire school, you'll know why). I've written to the SC Commission of Higher Education and told them what my situation was and why I felt I still deserved that money, and guess what. They said there's nothing that can be done about it. Absolutely nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing, at all. It's so frustrating. But, my financial aid advisor suggested I write to my local representative and see what happens. Why not? I've got nothing else to lose. I should probably find out who my local representative is...yes, that would be a good idea. I have an exam today. It counts for half of my grade in the course. I should probably go study for it. However, it's the introductory course for my soon-to-be-changed major, so it's not even important, and if I really want to, I can just drop the class and not even worry about taking the exam. I've been advised against that, though. A junior in my major told me to keep taking the class and just count it as an elective. He says it's an easy 'A', but I'm wondering how easy an 'A' it is, because he's *also* taking it with me...I'm sure it's easy if you're interested in the subject, and if you've been paying attention all along (which kinda' goes back into being interested in the subject) but if you've been like me in any way, this DEFINITELY is not the case. I think I may fail, perhaps pass by a small margin, if I don't study. I'll study, just in case. I'd hate to change my mind in the future and discover that I really do like waders and rainbow suspenders, but then have to take the introductory course all over again. What about you? Have you changed your major since you started? Or have you always known you wanted to be a witty jackass since the beginning? Ooops! How'd that slip out? Actually, I'm guessing you're not in an applied science or technology...and you're ruthlessly articulate...maybe something in the humanities, but not a language...an art, perhaps, or study...law? You could SO be a lawyer. Or maybe some kind of politician, the way you twist words around. Or better yet, a campaign speech writer. That's it! It's you! It's perfect. I have to go. I'm not signing off with "Cheers" this time, oh, Stephen, Light of the Earth. You *have* to disagree with me somewhere? DANG! Why do people always feel that way? Can't I just make it through one lousy day with everybody agreeing with me? I just want people to say, "Yep, Stephen. You're right, again!" It would really make everything simpler, don't you think? And is unwavering trust and unquestioning obedience *really* too much to ask? If nothing else, I'd AT LEAST like to have that kind of trust and obedience from my dog! But nooo. Aw, I'm sure you could build a radio as good and as fast and as cheaply as any seven-year-old. You just don't know it because you don't have at your disposal the substandard parts and the shotgun-wielding lunatic providing proper motivation. Hey! They're writing stereo instructions in ENGLISH, now?!? Wow! That almost makes me want to pick up and *read* a copy of... no. Nevermind, no it doesn't. Okay. Yeah, I DO throw away the instructions. But I recycle them. That's gotta' count for *something* right? I'm not a TOTALLY bad person! ...no matter what crap you might hear from my ex-girlfriends. And, AND, I would NEVER throw popcorn at seven-year-old Asian kids. Why? Because then they'll want something to drink, too! Oh. You know what? Maybe you should just ignore that last part and concentrate on that "I'm not a totally bad person" lie. Your friend put you on hold until the commercials. And you didn't like that, huh? So it would be a bad thing to let you know I'm writing this during MADtv commercial breaks, right? WELL! I guess its a good thing that I'm not doing anything like...hold up- its back on. I actually saw Viva Rock Vegas. What is wrong with us that we spend precious time watching such pointless, mindrotting drivel? Don't we have anything better to do with our time than to... MAD's back on. Okay, what was I saying? I need to find some more intellectual way to spend my time. That's it. I'm going to drag my friends off and we're going to watch Red Dragon. That's intellectual, right? Oh, yeah! I know ALL about those seven-point turns! And those points add up pretty fast on your driver's license, don't they? But in this game, whoever gets the most points, loses. HA! Yeah, I hate being short. I've got some pretty tall shoes, too. I love my boots, but that's just because I can't stand shoes. I'd go barefoot, but my hairy toes frighten small children... and grown men. And I have a pair of those roller-skate shoes. I don't remember Inspector Gadget's roller skate shoes making HIM six inches taller! It's kinda' cool, though-- I'm not complaining. You're roommate is a coffee drinker? Doesn't that crap stink up your whole apartment? Oh, yeah, and CUP-O-cino isn't AS unhealthy as drinking coffee. Well, I can't argue with *that* logic. Thank you for this new-found wisdom. Now I have no excuse not to smoke low-tar cigarettes and drink Drano-Lite. What was your dream college? Was it in South Carolina? Something tells me that NO it wasn't. I'm sorry you seem to hate South Carolina so much. You should like the state you live in. Take me, for example. I LOVE my state. It's kind of crowded, though. You'd be AMAZED how many people are people are in the great State of Confusion! You're not responsible enough for contacts? Neither am I! Neither are any of my contact-wearing friends! And that old guy who lives behind the Tastee Freeze? The guy I gave an old pair of my contacts to? I'm pretty sure he isn't responsible enough for them either. Your excuse isn't good enough. I've never heard of candy Altoids (sounds dubious) OR Victoria Secret candies. I've lived such a sheltered life! Oh, sure. My drug addict quip was funny on paper, but my delivery sucks. I think it came across less as a joke and more as a cry for help. And that "intervention party" they threw for me sucked. Nobody even brought beer. Worst party EVER! No, you won't be hearing any British jokes from me. Not even so much as a snide remark. No, some things just aren't funny. Sure, it's never stopped me before, but even *I* have limits. I couldn't have had TOO much fun. I was back in time to catch MADtv. That sucks. Oh, well. I have an early morning, anyway. Still- it's disappointing. Did you have any trouble with the emulator? Well, I'm sorry this letter's so short. But, since I usually don't write AT ALL on weekends, you can look at this as being a long letter, given the circumstances. Yawn. Well, I'll talk to you again soon. I need sleep, though. Maybe I'll get in a whole four hours tonight! Anything's possible, right? I'm keeping my fingers crossed! I HAVE to disagree with you somewhere. And that's where you said I was being cold by undermining all the hard work the little Asian kids do in building your stereo and THEN having to write the instuctions for it. First of all, I never mentioned anything about actually BUILDING the stereo, which is something I wouldn't undermine anyway, because if the kids can do that, then they're smarter than me. Secondly, I really doubt these little Asian kids, who spent countless hours in the production of your stereo, had very much time to learn how to read and write...in ENGLISH! Thirdly, if you feel so much compassion for the these kids who break their backs in putting your stereo together and THEN in having to write the instructions, why do you ALWAYS throw the instructions away?!? Hmmmm??? What kind of appreciation is that? Lastly, I don't even CARE about these kids because guess what! At least they're working! They're not like the needy little infants who don't know what to do with themselves and get exploited ANYWAY when they're turned into prostitutes, slaves, and poster children for the Save The Children Fund! Grant it, that's not the kind of life ANY child should have, but they aren't the first to live it, and they certainly won't be the last. Until *humanity* ceases to have a place for workingclass children there will ALWAYS be workingclass children, and there will ALWAYS be the better-off, who come and throw popcorn at them and say, "Aww, the poor little dears." Yes, I have sympathy for them, but until I take over the world--by using complete sentences, of course--there's nothing I can do for them. And I certainly refuse to throw popcorn and say, "Aww, the poor little dears." Alright? Alright! Geez! One way or another, you were going to MAKE come back at you, weren't you? Well, success! I guess. Anyway, "rough draft" is a bit inaccurate to describe what I did for my last email. I'd call it more of a "finding something to do while your friend is ignoring you for your TV that has a remote control." I swear, the girl put me on hold until the commercials came on. She won't be coming back up anytime soon, that's for sure! Haha! When you mentioned Mick Jagger, it reminded me of Alan Cumming's impression of him in Viva Rock Vegas. "Th' naim's Mick Jagged, eh." Ahhh, I'm tired. Ren 'n' Stimpy was great, though, I didn't like it at first, either. Back then, I remember thinking it was rather scary, and in fact, it really was a little dark for its day. But if you compare the artwork to, say, Whatever Happened to Robot Jones?--which is THE MOST retarded cartoon ever aired--you can see an appreciable difference, in that Ren 'n' Stimpy was more of an experiment to test the boundaries of what audiences would accept, and Robot Jones is nothing but a mere example of the kind of cartoons that abuse that acceptance. There are better examples than Robot Jones, like the really gross cartoons (and I mean REALLY gross, not just oozing snot and used kitty litter) that are just distasteful in both style and content...Whoa! I'm getting a little TOO concerned with this cartoon thing!...Maybe I should give those little Asian factory workers a second thought, afterall...just, whoa...anyway. I've faced on-coming traffic once...twice. It never ended up in a ticket or a death or anything, so I'm glad. Three point turns though? Forget it. My first time out I pulled off a *perfect* seven point turn. You can keep on adding points, too, if you do it right. Contracting immortal souls? I like that! Oh. I can't stand heels. Hate them with a passion. I would think you would, too, but, now I'm beginning to wonder...Just HOW painful is being short to you? Plus, if I just didn't wear them, that would make you feel taller. Why mess up a good thing? Using chewing gum to stay awake? Believe it or not, I hadn't thought of that before. It's gotta be safer (and much tastier) than, say coffee and caffeine pills. My roommate is an avid coffee drinker, and one morning she even had me drinking a cup of the nasty crud, assuring me it would help keep me from falling asleep. Did it? Nope. As an anti-sleeping agent, coffee failed me miserably. As so many health reports concur, it's not good for you at all, either. So there's no point in drinking it. BUT, cup-o-cinos are different. For one, I'm not rich enough to buy one everyday. For another, they're not AS bad for you if you only have them about two or three times a year (which seems to be true in my case because I rarely feel like walking all the way out to the Hendrix Center JUST to get one). I'll concede, there is a caffeine equivalency of about five or six cups of coffee PER cup-o-cino, BUT, an excess of ANYTHING, including water, can harm you. That's all South Carolina is good for--a postcard. Seriously, I wanted to leave this place so badly. I almost did! But then, *complications* arose and killed that dream. Dern complications! My dad was (is) also a service member, and since he was stationed to Ft. Jackson over a year ago, my only ambition was to get out. I'll admit, though, one of the most important things I was hoping to gain from a college experience was the stability of not having to PCS every couple of years. You probably know how hard it is to reestablish yourself in place after place, school after school. After a while, you just don't care to anymore. And from that point, I focused only on planting myself in just the right college, and growing from there. Well, I found my perfect college. The only problem is that I fell a bit short of it by, oh, just a THOUSAND miles. Believe me, no bitterness THERE... But sure, if you want a post-card, I'll send you one sometime. God forbid you ever do, though. I don't think I'm responsible enough for contacts. And I'm familiar with the term, "Birth-control glasses." I heard it in referrence to my own. That's not exactly their purpose, but if that's an added bonus, great. Leave the Altoids alone. I'm referring to the candy-like kind, not the chalky breath mint. They never did anything to you. Besides, I prefer the Victoria's Secret little angel wingy mints. But I won't buy them for myself. I just pilfer a few from my mother whenever she buys them...that'll be whenever I get to go home...whenever THAT is. Yeah, I guess they probably do need at least four inches for a boy's wig. I was told differently, though. I guess it's safe to assume that my hair was used for a girl's wig. Not that it matters any...I thought your drug-addict quip was funny. The British do SO have culture. I'd trade every bit of my Southerness--which, I suppose, doesn't really amount to much, but STILL--to live in Victorian England! That would be so loverly!...Oh, no...I can hear your wit already...getting ready to type something sarcastic...Stupid! Stupid! Stupid me!... Why do I consistently set myself up for this from you?...The tracks are trembling...Oh, well... I hope you have a great time in Panama City. Suffering for your friend, that is. Cheers Yes, I remember Mom and Dad Save the World. How GREAT that is is up for debate. WOW! You have a sane compliment! That's very cool! I'm the most normal person I know! Do you have any idea how scary that is?!? Wait. I know this. A car... traveling through space... speed of light... would the lights work? Hmmm. Yes. The headlights *would* work. But the horn wouldn't. Somebody actually told you that cars don't travel at the speed of light?!? Like 1) You don't ALREADY know that? and 2) So, they don't have a problem with the fact that your car is flying through space? And I thought MY sleep cycle was screwed up! And that's pretty bad, coming from a guy who's responding to e-mail at THIS time of night... whoops! I mean: Good Morning! Well, I guess your body knows what it needs. If you can function, then you're getting enough sleep. Oh! I found a need trick. I don't know why it works. You know that head-bobbing thing you do when you start to fall asleep in class? When it starts to happen, get a piece of mint gum and chew it. It'll wake you right up! Its better than any caffiene crap people will try to pawn off on you! You're handwriting this letter? Really? You mean... like a rough draft? I think you're putting WAY too much thought into this. I pretty much just sit here and type. And it shows, too, doesn't it? Okay, your plan to take over the world involves using complete sentences? Mmm-hmmm. Okay. I like it... it's a good start. If I may tweak your plan just a tiny bit? I think you should use... complete sentences, of course... along with your uncanny ability to write really, REALLY boring instructions. Use this talent to write out a contract that is so fiendishly complicated and dull that NO ONE could *possibly* read it all. They'll just sign it without reading all of it, and before they know it, they've signed over their power of attorney, all their poperty, and while you're at it, you may as well have them sign over their immortal souls. Hey! Writing stereo instructions is too *glamorous* for you, huh? You're joking? So... essentially, you're making light of all the hard work those seven-year-old Asian kids put into making my stereo and THEN writing out the instructions for it? That's just cold. I liked Biology. I never thought to ask questions about membrane transport, though. I used to get ugly looks because I'd ask when, in cellular mitosis, does the mitochondrial DNA replicate? I'm beginning to think no one knows. You can drink too much water? I did not know that. I'm going to start using that as an excuse, though! How late does UWF schedule classes? I don't know. I guess the Astronomy classes would be held pretty late. My latest class is on Mondays from 5:30 to 9-something. I wouldn't make fun of cup-o-cino-- I'm not sure I know how to spell it. I don't drink any coffe-related, so I don't have to know. I don't even like coffe-flavored jelly-beans! A fascination with British culture? Hey, you've piqued MY interest! I had no idea the British HAD any culture! I don't particularly care for their accent. You don't think Quasimodo and Woody Allen look a lot alike? How about Stephen Tyler of Aerosmyth and Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones? Do you think *they* look alike? 5'9" may not be short. But it sure FEELS short. You measure yourself? If I weren't tired, I'd twist that into an absolutely uncalled-for dirty joke. I guess you're lucky I'm tired. But they say you're taller in the morning than you are at night. When do you typically measure yourself... measure your height? So, you're about five foot one? (My math is terrible.) Hey! If we met, you could wear heels! But you'd have to come down here- Dad was in the Marine Corps and I've already done enough traveling to last a life time! I'm planning to stay in one place for a little while! Besides, the last time I was up that way... two years ago? I drove up to Washington D.C. with friends... a cop pulled me over and warned us about "black ice". I figured, shoot. I've been driving since I was twelve. I've driven through clay. I can drive on sand. I think I can handle a little "black ice". SO, whenever the car slid through the stop sign without ever slowing down, I was thinking, "Oh! Crap! Please stop! Please stop, Car!" Then about half-way through the intersection, cars were coming at me and I started thinking, "Oh! DARN! Don't stop NOW car!" So, long story short, if I ever get some bizarre, unexlplainable urge to see your beautiful, South Carolina countryside... I'll ask you to send me a postcard. I've never thought of the remote control as a luxury, before. But now, seeing it through new eyes... I still don't. Your friend needs to get out more. :) I haven't been to the shroomery in a while. Thanks, I'll check out Lego Dope whenever I have some free time. I don't know when that will be, though. Your friends say you're Greek? Um... what do your PARENTS say? I know all about frizzy hair- my sister actually irons hers flat. She's five years older than me. This was my role-model, growing up. Just so you know where I lay some of the blame. And where do I put the rest of the blame? Well, I'm not going to tell you! You'll just have to tune into a very special "Oprah" and find out! I have glasses. I call them my birth-control lenses. Wanna' guess why? If you can figure that one out, then you'll also understand why you'll only see me wearing contacts. I haven't tried the Ren and Stimpy game, yet. I can't imagine why it didn't work, though. You DID install the emulator, right? I was actually never a fan of Ren and Stimpy. I could never really get into a cartoon that wasn't drawn decently. I heard they only need four inches to make a wig, so you have to have six inches before you can donate. I haven't measured my hair, but it comes down past my nose in the front. I get a lot of crap from my family for parting it down the middle. The keep telling me that's how drug-addicts wore their hair in the sixties. I keep telling them, "Yeah. Things haven't changed that much," but they don't think that's funny. Aaaaugh! I HATE Altoids! Those things are terrible! I'll stick with tic-tacs and Dentyne Ice, thank-you-very-much! I really have to get some sleep. I'm going to Panama City tomorrow. A friend got a new wave runner and I have to help break it in. *sigh* Being a good friend can be such a burden, can't it? I'll suffer. Oh, crap! I just peeked at the clock! I really AM going to suffer! A two hour drive?!? That early in the morning! Crap. I'll talk you, later, Sweetness. “Nevertheless, the fact remains.” …Quite profound, I must say. If I were Kenneth Branagh, I would say, “THERE’S A DOUBLE MEANING IN THAT!!!” But that’s just because that’s something he *would* say…um…yeah. Wow! You remember Mom and Dad Save the World?!? How great is that! Last week, the dining hall served something it claimed was sausage, and I commented to my friend that it looked like the toe Kathy Ireland plucked off the slimy alien mushroom kid…She just kinda’ looked at me funny—not that it was random of me to say such a thing. I think she thinks herself the sane compliment to my bouts of eccentricity, though, I don’t believe I was being eccentric at all…What word would you say I was? I can’t even think of one. Of course, I WAS out of character the other day when I kept asking people a pointless question. It was, “If a car was traveling through space at the speed of light, would the headlights still work?” People mostly responded with, “Cars don’t travel at the speed of light,” and, “What the hell does it matter?” Well, apparently it mattered enough for me to ask, but then, I was functioning on only 20 minutes of sleep in two days. Poor excuse, but I’ll take it anyway. Actually, I’ve been losing a lot of sleep since I’ve been here. It’s almost some kind of biweekly cycle I go through. I’ll sleep at night for one week, then stay awake all night and sleep between classes the next. I know that’s not exactly healthy, but I’ve managed so far. I'm actually not writing this letter on a computer. I'm handwriting it first, because all the computers in the lab are being used. So it'll probably be a while before I can type it, which means you may not see it until tomorrow, so actually everything I say that is happening NOW, actually happened *yesterday*...yeah...just thought I'd share... Using complete sentences? I try. It’s only a small part of my dastardly evil plan to take over the WORLD!!!...I didn’t just say that…you never heard of me…this conversation never took place…yeah, sure. ANYWAY. Yes, I tried to warn you about the dullness of my instructions. If I ever give you any more in the future, perhaps I can liven it up just a bit. How about explaining technical online procedures in a tribute to Captain Underpants in The Dreaded Toe-Jam People vs. The Fighting Ninja Staplers! Sound interesting enough? And as for thrusting my future into the wilds and wonders that IS the world of stereo instructions writing? Nope, I don't think so. It sounds a little too *glamorous* for my blood. Believe me, it is possible to sleep through Biology. I can prove it, too. But it's not so much the subject matter as it is the man who's teaching it. He kills biology. He really, sincerely, truly murders it. I did manage to stay awake this morning, though. AND I also gained a brownie point when I asked him a question about how membrane transport plays a role in the deaths of people who drink too much water. I asked him out loud in class and everything! Biology was a lot more fun back in high school--except for the Krebs cycle. I don't even remember--nor did I ever really understand--what the Krebs cycle is all about, but it represents that part of biology that I hate, HATE, and never want to deal with again...So, I guess now would be a good time to change my major, then. Technically I *can* skip Biology because the professor posts his PowerPoint presentations, and he DOESN'T take attendance. I go anyway because I'd feel really guilty if I didn't. I registered late and well, a few people went out of their way to get me into certain classes. So, yeah, unless I want to be a complete jerk, it's off to class I go! How late does your school schedule classes? I mean, our latest is 5 o'clock or so in the afternoon; 6:30, for some labs. This town rolls up pretty early. One night, I went for a walk to the student center because I really wanted a cup-o-cino (don't make fun, I say it that way on purpose!) but as it happened, the center was already closed. I don't see why businesses close so early here. It's not like staying open extra late will cause moral decay in the community...It *could*, but that doesn't mean it will. Why do I say “Cheers”? Not for any particular reason. I have this HUGE fascination with British culture. The accent, the history, the dignity…ABSOLUTELY FABULOUS, darling!...But no, THAT couldn’t be the reason. Ok, so you look like Quasimodo. I can buy that. That you resemble Woody Allen in some way? Now THAT sounds like a bit of a stretch. And 5’9” is NOT short. I believe that’s how tall my father is, and he’s not a little man. So you’re not that short—not SHORT-short anyway. I, myself, am something over five feet. I don’t know for certain the exact inches because, for some reason, it seems to vary whenever I measure myself. The doctor says I’m 61.7-something inches, but what does he know, right? My friend is in my dorm right now. She’s watching M.A.S.H reruns, Johnny Bravo, and a thus unidentified movie with colonial American martial arts experts…I think I can even see a chain link fence in the background. She’s a little bit clicker-happy. She considers the fact that she doesn’t have to get up to change the channel somewhat of a luxury; I guess I can see why. I went to Shroomery.org again. I didn’t have a lot of time to peruse the contents, but I did see a post that was worth a couple ha-has. It was called “Lego Dope.” I guess it would be fair of me to describe how I look, given the fact that you were so *honest*—ahem!—with how you described yourself. Well, for starters, I’m Mexican, but my friends call me a Fake-Mexican. It’s because I don’t know Spanish (well, I know ONE phrase, but it’s really immature and a little suggestive…anyway) and instead of tanning, I burn. Once, I fell asleep on the beach in Tybee Island. I think I was out for …2 hours, maybe? When I finally woke up, I was a color so red, it was just…wrong. Wrong Red, that’s what it was. Eventually the redness was replaced by brown crustiness, which was unbelievably gross and so tempting to pick at. My eyelids were even crusted stiff. This was an awful way to start high school—looking like something out of a 50s horror movie. And my friends also say I'm Greek. That one, I can't see why, but they insist, so I don't argue. My eyes are plain-Jane brown, and my hair is dark brown. It’s a big mass of frizz that’s trying its hardest to make me hate it. But it doesn’t have to try so hard, because I already do…It’s also trying to be curly, but that’s my fault, so I can’t blame it. I wear glasses, too, but I’ve had the same pair since sophomore year, so I don’t know how strong they *should* be by now. They’re not a pair of Coke bottles, but they sit lopsided on my face, which makes me feel a little dorky. For the longest time, I was POSITIVE it was because my ears were uneven (that way I could just blame my mother, I guess), but an embarrassingly simple experiment convinced me otherwise. I was pretty careless with my glasses at first, and I’m assuming that’s why they developed so many scars over time. I don’t even remember how the hinge on one of the arms was damaged, but it was so fragile, that I actually broke it while wiping the lenses clean. It just snapped in my hand--just like that! No one at work had a repair kit, so I—yes, I did—I TAPED it together! Wee! I’m a dork after all. The tape was Scotch Magic Tape, but I don’t think it worked any magic on my glasses because it seemed to be quite conspicuous on the BLACK PLASTIC of the frame. I reverted to fastening the pieces with some of my dad’s green army thread. That worked pretty well until people realized the tape was gone. I’d finally had it one day, when I was helping a challenging customer. He was getting REALLY upset, like he was taking what I said to be a personal offense. Then suddenly the thread on my glasses came loose and the arm just fell, dangling there like a leaf strung to a strand of spider’s web. I just stood there thinking, “Of course, this would happen *now*!” The customer, who was angry a moment before, was now laughing, and thanking me for that…”Sure, anything for our customers!...But you still can’t have it YOUR WAY, so ha!”…no, I didn’t actually say that last thing…kinda’ wish I would’ve, though…no, not really…I’m such a wimp. My glasses were fixed at, ironically, no cost. However, the LensCrafters people couldn’t replace the hinge, so they had to replace the whole arm. The arm they used matches the black on one side, but is gold on the other, yet adding further to the *character* my glasses already have. But enough about my specs… I also went to that Nintendo site you use. I tried to open the Ren and Stimpy game, but for some reason, all that came to was a window with a bunch of symbols. I don't know THAT much about computers to know what was wrong or how to fix it, but I figure it's because there's something in the lab computers that makes them inherently lame. It would've been neato-mosquito to be able to play, though. I mean, Ren and Stimpy! Those guys were great! I even have the Log Song stuck in my head now. It's Lo-og! It's Lo-og! It's better than bad, it's good!...um, yeah, maybe I shouldn't have been THAT excited...but for real, great show. Is your hair really getting long enough to donate? I think all they need to make a decent wig is ten inches. I know this because I donated some braids a couple years ago. They sent me a Certificate of Appreciation, which I appreciated. I just finished my last Altoids Tangerine Sour. I eat them like it’s my job…and it’s not because they’re BRITISH. It’s because they’re just so gosh-darn tasty! Well, I have to go and be social. Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeers! http://w1.874.telia.com/~u87403528/roms.h is the site for those nintendo games. I'm in a hurry, sorry I can't write! Everything's rush, rush, rush! Now, now, now! Gotta' go! Me |
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