Homework at five in the morning.
Sleep still elusive
But this junzi treatise keeps
oh so tired eyes wide
lolz.
Sleep still elusive
But this junzi treatise keeps
oh so tired eyes wide
lolz.
5:36 AM |
Category: |
0
comments
100 posts!
I can has kitten sandwich naow?
Things I want to do before I die:
Learn to cook. Better.
Learn to play an acoustic guitar.
Get a pilot's license.
Get a motorcycle license. Pop a wheelie.
Renew my CPR certification and licensing.
Shave my head.
Skydive.
Bungee jump.
Eat nothing but candy for a whole day.
Watch Seven Years in Tibet.
Go to Tibet.
Travel to Japan.
Visit Australia.
See Ireland.
Learn how a car works.
Break a bone doing something stupid.
Learn to tell good stories.
That's all I can think of off the top of my head. Class in seven hours, sleep now.
I can has kitten sandwich naow?
Things I want to do before I die:
Learn to cook. Better.
Learn to play an acoustic guitar.
Get a pilot's license.
Get a motorcycle license. Pop a wheelie.
Renew my CPR certification and licensing.
Shave my head.
Skydive.
Bungee jump.
Eat nothing but candy for a whole day.
Watch Seven Years in Tibet.
Go to Tibet.
Travel to Japan.
Visit Australia.
See Ireland.
Learn how a car works.
Break a bone doing something stupid.
Learn to tell good stories.
That's all I can think of off the top of my head. Class in seven hours, sleep now.
11:57 PM |
Category: |
2
comments
Health tips for a happier life.
Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true?
A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it.. don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.
Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?
A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.
Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?
A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up.
Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.
Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: I can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain... Good! So is Eckhart Tolle's by the way.
Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?
A: Please tell me you've been listening! ... Foods are fried in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you? Olive oil is good too, another veggie. Whale oil isn't.
Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Simply put, no, they wont. When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.
Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: What is chocolate made out of? Cocoa beans! Beans are a member of the vegetable part of the food pyramid. It's also the best feel-good food around.
Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.
Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?
A: It depends on your lifestyle. Round is a shape, just make sure you have appropriate doors.
6:33 PM |
Category: |
0
comments
What to write about.
I’m sitting at work, and I should be putting some quality time in on my homework.
Oh well.
Let me just preface this by saying I’m in a good mood. No, really.
Well, actually not so much. Sitting at a desk for a few hours with absolutely nothing to do has definite mood-sapping effects. Maybe I’d better qualify what it is I do first.
I’m trying to write plainly, with little in the way of embellishments; unlike Cadbury eggs and cheap two-dollar hookers, it turns out that when composing languid prose one can in fact have too much of a good thing.
I work as an admitting clerk at the reception desk of a (relatively) local hospital, which means I sit behind a badly scratched desk (highlighted in the bastard tones of the horrid lovechild of aquamarine and blue #4) in a garish pink swivel chair all day and direct visitors while keeping an eye peeled to ensure nothing dodgy occurs on the premises. I also work the hospital switchboard, and those two entrancing tasks fill out the receptionist portion of my paycheck. Since whomever has their warm tush planted firmly in that uncomfortably salmon-esque piece of Swedish-born plastic is also considered to be the entire admitting department, I’m the faceless drone who takes care of all the boring paperwork generated whenever a new patient is admitted. This is the only portion of my job that entails real work, and invariably leads to about an hour or so’s worth of mindless paper-shuffling whenever a new guest chooses to grace us with their presence. Weekends are fairly slow, which means as the de facto weekend shift guy I often get paid twelve-fifty an hour to sit around and amuse myself.
Pretty sweet gig.
Back to the mood thing. I felt it was necessary to state that because really, why else would I take the time to pen such a laborious piece of copy (essentially to myself) than to commiserate a sad state of affairs? The communal nature of interactive media seems custom-tailored to anonymous wanking; one need look no further than my outdated and disconsolate livejournal friends list for proof.
Wow. I was just gonna write a sentence or two as a bit of a rambling precursor, and I’m already up to over a page. Epic fail.
Fuck it. I was looking at the CSU’s International Program, and if I’m lucky enough to get in and meet the qualifications for studying abroad I’m gonna go for it. The only downside is that the only place I really had my heart set on was Japan, and they start their semester of exchange in the fall (September, to be exact.) Nothing troubling about that, until I point out that they require you to be an enrolled CSU student the fall semester preceding the semester of departure. For those of you unaware of how a basic college semester system works, that means that if I attended one of the CSU's next fall I would be unable to take part in the program until the following year. That puts me (ideally) in my last year of college. Not necessarily a bad thing, but it means I’d have to wait over a year when I really want to get going now. Things could change in eighteen months, I could lose the courage to take this opportunity or just change my mind altogether. Still, I’m gonna try for it. I’m hoping to attend San Francisco State in the fall anyway, and that ought to be enough of a scenery change for one year.
I keep getting these backhanded remarks from friends about why I want to leave. I know the chances of having enough readers to require the use of both hands to keep track (more than five, for all the amputees out there) are fairly slim, but while I can’t count on this being a high-traffic site I can reliably predict that everyone who allows these words to burn their way into the tender bits of their hippocampus might have at one time counted themselves among my close associates. That uncomfortable and unwieldy bit of prose out of the way, I feel I can confidently address the reader directly: I want to leave because of you.
No, seriouslyforrealz hear me out kthx. I’ll undoubtedly get shit for posting that, so let’s at least try to make sure it’s the proper vintage of fecal matter before we go wantonly hurling it about like chimps at a hoedown.
You’re great. No, really. We’ve had a great run; I’ve certainly enjoyed our time together, and I’ll always treasure the memories. The problem isn’t you.
It’s me.
Grandiose posturing and sly Dear John references aside, I just don’t enjoy myself very much around the majority of my friends anymore. To be honest this is to be expected; I count my circle of “friends” as being as large as fifteen to thirty people at times, yet the majority of those fine folks were introduced to me as friends of others whom I was acquainted with. Like ships passing in the night, we saw each other often yet never truly gained the measure of one another. As I’ve gotten older, it’s become less and less important to have my presence be enjoyed or even desired by these people, and so my efforts to pander to their sensibilities have slackened. In doing so, I’ve simply made the differences in our own personal tastes more apparent.
Wow, that’s a weighty bit of bullshit. I keep taking these little paragraph breaks to remind myself to (metaphorically speaking) take a breath and move on.
What I wrote above is certainly far from blanket truth. There are a number of people whose company I honestly enjoy, and I often feel guilty that I bring the mood down or don’t entertain like I used to; irregardless, even these fine souls don’t mean much in the long run because the majority are never interested in actually doing anything. My mother often bemoans my complaints of inaction, unable to grasp how a group of physically fit young college students with all their functional appendages intact can manage to find absolutely nothing to do on a weekday evening. It’s gotten harder and harder to find excuses to justify our inaction over the years, and finally I’ve just stopped trying to bullshit her. It’s because the majority of my peer base are losers. And if most of my friends are losers, what does that say about me?
C’mon, honestly. We don’t need to drink to enjoy ourselves. We don’t need to smoke copious quantities of quasi-medicinal herbs to enjoy ourselves. We don’t even need a roof over our heads to enjoy ourselves, and we sure as fuck don’t need money. All that is required is the desire to experience the world around us and the brazen, beautiful foolishness to act on those desires.
I’m rambling again. The point is, the reason I want so badly to do well this semester and travel somewhere else for schooling is two-fold:
I want to start accomplishing something meaningful. I’m 22, and I ought to start acting like it.
I want to enjoy life again, and at this point for me that apparently entails attempting a diverse amount of interesting activities.
I’m not the type to deny my subconscious what it wants, and I’m tired of trying to motivate my peers to do anything outside of their comfort zone. It seems the more and more insistent I’ve become, the less and less my presence is desired by these people. It might just be my imagination, but such a phenomenon would be absolutely understandable if true. I know I haven’t been much fun to hang around with these last six months or so, and I’m not sure I’d invite myself to most gatherings. All the more reason for me to broaden my circle of acquaintances and get the hell out of this town, really. I love California, and I adore Fullerton; that being said, I don’t want to spend the rest of my days here.
Whoa. I’ve got a metric crapton more I wanted to set down, but I think two pages single-spaced is pushing it. Plus, I get to go home in like, ten minutes. Not a bad way to kill an hour.
I’m growing weary of trying to excuse myself, but I think this is important enough to tack on: if you feel the above doesn’t apply to you, then it probably doesn’t. If you’re not sure, well then it still probably doesn’t, but only because I’m so awesome. If you think I am writing about you, and are (justifiably) irritated or confused, feel free to boldly bring it up the next time we hang out. That’ll be in like what, a week and a half? Try not to forget.
Gotta send out my transcripts tomorrow.
Guess I'd better pay taxes, too.
Yeah, still in a good mood.
EDIT: I just realized I printed out the Pimp rulesheet, then left it on the printer at work. That's gonna be interesting to explain...
OH HOH HOH HOH!
I’m sitting at work, and I should be putting some quality time in on my homework.
Oh well.
Let me just preface this by saying I’m in a good mood. No, really.
Well, actually not so much. Sitting at a desk for a few hours with absolutely nothing to do has definite mood-sapping effects. Maybe I’d better qualify what it is I do first.
I’m trying to write plainly, with little in the way of embellishments; unlike Cadbury eggs and cheap two-dollar hookers, it turns out that when composing languid prose one can in fact have too much of a good thing.
I work as an admitting clerk at the reception desk of a (relatively) local hospital, which means I sit behind a badly scratched desk (highlighted in the bastard tones of the horrid lovechild of aquamarine and blue #4) in a garish pink swivel chair all day and direct visitors while keeping an eye peeled to ensure nothing dodgy occurs on the premises. I also work the hospital switchboard, and those two entrancing tasks fill out the receptionist portion of my paycheck. Since whomever has their warm tush planted firmly in that uncomfortably salmon-esque piece of Swedish-born plastic is also considered to be the entire admitting department, I’m the faceless drone who takes care of all the boring paperwork generated whenever a new patient is admitted. This is the only portion of my job that entails real work, and invariably leads to about an hour or so’s worth of mindless paper-shuffling whenever a new guest chooses to grace us with their presence. Weekends are fairly slow, which means as the de facto weekend shift guy I often get paid twelve-fifty an hour to sit around and amuse myself.
Pretty sweet gig.
Back to the mood thing. I felt it was necessary to state that because really, why else would I take the time to pen such a laborious piece of copy (essentially to myself) than to commiserate a sad state of affairs? The communal nature of interactive media seems custom-tailored to anonymous wanking; one need look no further than my outdated and disconsolate livejournal friends list for proof.
Wow. I was just gonna write a sentence or two as a bit of a rambling precursor, and I’m already up to over a page. Epic fail.
Fuck it. I was looking at the CSU’s International Program, and if I’m lucky enough to get in and meet the qualifications for studying abroad I’m gonna go for it. The only downside is that the only place I really had my heart set on was Japan, and they start their semester of exchange in the fall (September, to be exact.) Nothing troubling about that, until I point out that they require you to be an enrolled CSU student the fall semester preceding the semester of departure. For those of you unaware of how a basic college semester system works, that means that if I attended one of the CSU's next fall I would be unable to take part in the program until the following year. That puts me (ideally) in my last year of college. Not necessarily a bad thing, but it means I’d have to wait over a year when I really want to get going now. Things could change in eighteen months, I could lose the courage to take this opportunity or just change my mind altogether. Still, I’m gonna try for it. I’m hoping to attend San Francisco State in the fall anyway, and that ought to be enough of a scenery change for one year.
I keep getting these backhanded remarks from friends about why I want to leave. I know the chances of having enough readers to require the use of both hands to keep track (more than five, for all the amputees out there) are fairly slim, but while I can’t count on this being a high-traffic site I can reliably predict that everyone who allows these words to burn their way into the tender bits of their hippocampus might have at one time counted themselves among my close associates. That uncomfortable and unwieldy bit of prose out of the way, I feel I can confidently address the reader directly: I want to leave because of you.
No, seriouslyforrealz hear me out kthx. I’ll undoubtedly get shit for posting that, so let’s at least try to make sure it’s the proper vintage of fecal matter before we go wantonly hurling it about like chimps at a hoedown.
You’re great. No, really. We’ve had a great run; I’ve certainly enjoyed our time together, and I’ll always treasure the memories. The problem isn’t you.
It’s me.
Grandiose posturing and sly Dear John references aside, I just don’t enjoy myself very much around the majority of my friends anymore. To be honest this is to be expected; I count my circle of “friends” as being as large as fifteen to thirty people at times, yet the majority of those fine folks were introduced to me as friends of others whom I was acquainted with. Like ships passing in the night, we saw each other often yet never truly gained the measure of one another. As I’ve gotten older, it’s become less and less important to have my presence be enjoyed or even desired by these people, and so my efforts to pander to their sensibilities have slackened. In doing so, I’ve simply made the differences in our own personal tastes more apparent.
Wow, that’s a weighty bit of bullshit. I keep taking these little paragraph breaks to remind myself to (metaphorically speaking) take a breath and move on.
What I wrote above is certainly far from blanket truth. There are a number of people whose company I honestly enjoy, and I often feel guilty that I bring the mood down or don’t entertain like I used to; irregardless, even these fine souls don’t mean much in the long run because the majority are never interested in actually doing anything. My mother often bemoans my complaints of inaction, unable to grasp how a group of physically fit young college students with all their functional appendages intact can manage to find absolutely nothing to do on a weekday evening. It’s gotten harder and harder to find excuses to justify our inaction over the years, and finally I’ve just stopped trying to bullshit her. It’s because the majority of my peer base are losers. And if most of my friends are losers, what does that say about me?
C’mon, honestly. We don’t need to drink to enjoy ourselves. We don’t need to smoke copious quantities of quasi-medicinal herbs to enjoy ourselves. We don’t even need a roof over our heads to enjoy ourselves, and we sure as fuck don’t need money. All that is required is the desire to experience the world around us and the brazen, beautiful foolishness to act on those desires.
I’m rambling again. The point is, the reason I want so badly to do well this semester and travel somewhere else for schooling is two-fold:
I want to start accomplishing something meaningful. I’m 22, and I ought to start acting like it.
I want to enjoy life again, and at this point for me that apparently entails attempting a diverse amount of interesting activities.
I’m not the type to deny my subconscious what it wants, and I’m tired of trying to motivate my peers to do anything outside of their comfort zone. It seems the more and more insistent I’ve become, the less and less my presence is desired by these people. It might just be my imagination, but such a phenomenon would be absolutely understandable if true. I know I haven’t been much fun to hang around with these last six months or so, and I’m not sure I’d invite myself to most gatherings. All the more reason for me to broaden my circle of acquaintances and get the hell out of this town, really. I love California, and I adore Fullerton; that being said, I don’t want to spend the rest of my days here.
Whoa. I’ve got a metric crapton more I wanted to set down, but I think two pages single-spaced is pushing it. Plus, I get to go home in like, ten minutes. Not a bad way to kill an hour.
I’m growing weary of trying to excuse myself, but I think this is important enough to tack on: if you feel the above doesn’t apply to you, then it probably doesn’t. If you’re not sure, well then it still probably doesn’t, but only because I’m so awesome. If you think I am writing about you, and are (justifiably) irritated or confused, feel free to boldly bring it up the next time we hang out. That’ll be in like what, a week and a half? Try not to forget.
Gotta send out my transcripts tomorrow.
Guess I'd better pay taxes, too.
Yeah, still in a good mood.
EDIT: I just realized I printed out the Pimp rulesheet, then left it on the printer at work. That's gonna be interesting to explain...
OH HOH HOH HOH!
9:14 PM |
Category: |
4
comments
