Saturday, August 30, 2003
Wherein Angie Plays Midnight Indoor Capture the Flag With Many Shirtless Boys
The resident shirt ninja barged into my room at twelve and demanded that I play capture the flag, so of course I had to oblige him.
This requires chanting war cries, hurtling through corridors and stairwells of our slumbering dorm at high speeds (remember, grab the stair railing so that your forward momentum will give you tighter turns!), taunting opponents from the neutral zones, dragging opponent players into the stairwells and pinning them down to keep them from defending their flag, hiding the flag, having the flag carried around by a player, leading opponents on by jogging back and forth through the same hallway, distracting enemy defenders with balloons, fake flags, and fake injuries ("I'm just getting a drink of water" "I'm so tired.." "ow, my arm... my arm... RUN RUN RUN!" ) tackling people, putting them into headlocks, making flying leaps over the collapsed and comatose in the halls, returning both flags at the exact same second, hiding in rooms, wrestling your opponent team captain ("Knock it off, guys!" "But I was winning!" "Calm down!" "We can't, we're raging testosterone!"), colliding at a run into opposing players, and carrying the victorious flagbearer up on your shoulders loudly singing, "We are the champions!!" at 2 in the morning. Capture the flag has become a contact sport.
People who came into the dorm late at night looked bewildered. We recruited them. They sucked. Rookies.
The resident shirt ninja barged into my room at twelve and demanded that I play capture the flag, so of course I had to oblige him.
This requires chanting war cries, hurtling through corridors and stairwells of our slumbering dorm at high speeds (remember, grab the stair railing so that your forward momentum will give you tighter turns!), taunting opponents from the neutral zones, dragging opponent players into the stairwells and pinning them down to keep them from defending their flag, hiding the flag, having the flag carried around by a player, leading opponents on by jogging back and forth through the same hallway, distracting enemy defenders with balloons, fake flags, and fake injuries ("I'm just getting a drink of water" "I'm so tired.." "ow, my arm... my arm... RUN RUN RUN!" ) tackling people, putting them into headlocks, making flying leaps over the collapsed and comatose in the halls, returning both flags at the exact same second, hiding in rooms, wrestling your opponent team captain ("Knock it off, guys!" "But I was winning!" "Calm down!" "We can't, we're raging testosterone!"), colliding at a run into opposing players, and carrying the victorious flagbearer up on your shoulders loudly singing, "We are the champions!!" at 2 in the morning. Capture the flag has become a contact sport.
People who came into the dorm late at night looked bewildered. We recruited them. They sucked. Rookies.
Friday, August 29, 2003
Wherein Angie Stays Sober, Keeps Her Clothes On and Makes Love to a Palm Tree
So anyway, I went with Melissa to see a men's soccer match in the soccer field, and met up with two other freshmen (Joe and Lola) looking for directions. So we went with them, and talked about how amazed we were about the lack of cliques in college and the way people could randomly introduce themselves, and worried when the window of everyone being super-friendly would close. By the time we got there, it was raining ridiculously, and though it made the men in white t-shirts look good and drove off the muggy heat we got seriously wet and the game got canceled because of lightning. Shortly after, it stopped raining, because God has a sense of humor.
Lola had a car, so we took that to Quiznos, a sub place recommended by Joe who lives in the area, around Fort Meade. He lives in a military family and moves around a lot, which is why Lola says he's super-friendly; he has to be to survive. He says he deals with loss a lot better. I wish I could. We ate and then went to Arundel Mills, possibly the biggest mall in Maryland though I don't know for sure. It also has a Medieval Times (a medieval themed entertainment venue with jousting, melee combat, and "medieval cuisine" including anachronistic potatoes) being constructed; I could see its tacky concrete castle halfway finished. YES! It looks so gay (as gay as anything abstractly inanimate can be), I must go when it's operational! At the real, modern mall, we laughed at the Dee's Nuts mall booth ("You have the biggest nuts I've ever seen!") and the explicit sex guide books in the book store. Overall, we were really immature and had a lot of fun, though Joe and Lola seemed mostly involved in each other and me and Melissa didn't really get in any words edgewise.
Lola said as part of her roommate agreement; no sex in the dorm while one roommate was trying to sleep. We laughed, because it implied people could have sex if the roommate was awake. Joe said as part of his roommate agreement; no sex in his dorm, but I didn't see why people can't have sex in their own bed ("I don't want my room to smell like funk!" he replied) or in the shower, ("Oh that's gross," he said) or his car ("No!"). Joe and Lola talked about their alcohol tolerances (and beer pong tables!!!) much like many other people I'd been introduced to, and porn parties on their floor, and I wondered if I was seriously so square as to be the only person to have never gotten drunk or made out with someone by now. It's not so much peer pressure... why should I be in such a hurry to dispense with innocence?... but that I feel that I may be missing so much of life.
BTW: a semi comical goal I've developed this year is to go to Annapolis and lose my virginity to a midshipman. It was rather scandalous in my dorm... some girl someone knew lost 100 pounds through a stomach stapling procedure and went to Annapolis and shagged two naval officers at a time (or straight consecutively, I don't remember.) Girls were repulsed when they heard this story but I thought it rather sounded like fun.
Then we went to the Foam Party, which is like clubbing I guess except in a vat full of soap suds. I got lei'd, but didn't really know anyone and it looked hella stupid with all the freshmen who also didn't know anyone standing around looking hella stupid but I went into the foam vat just for the hell of it. Much to my surprise, Eric (introduced Tuesday, August 26, 6:20 PM blog); big fat smartass loser Eric, was there. I'd talked to him at lunch and while we had some good conversation about my "information should be free" rant (Monday, August 25, 2:43 blog) and other random things, I rather disliked his negative personality. He'd say things like, "I'd rather be fat than be stupid" and he seemed really defensively arrogant about his weight. I mean, I hardly know this guy and it's the first thing he brings up (he introduces his nickname as "the fat boy in the third row"). He said, "I don't have anything against musclebound idiots but..." (and trailed off) in a way that indicated he clearly did have something against them. It was a very highschoolish mentality. And he has a whiny, Doug-like voice that is annoying (not that Doug's voice is annoying; Eric just happens to have a super exaggerated version of Doug's voice), and he has a pretentious way of speaking.
Earlier in the week he had interrupted our motivational speaker, who was talking about diversity and was using an example of how bias was ingrained in even our language. Eric had to point out that actually terms like blackmail, blacklist, black magic, etc, had been in the English language before the introduction of black people. Later in the week he interrupted a presentation on date rape (Monday, August 25, 2:43 blog) to say that he'd like to kick the perpetrator's ass he'd have a bad taste in his mouth. The audience was supposed to participate and discuss of course, but he didn't bring anything to that discussion except his righteous indignation. So anyway, I got the impression that not only was he a loser, but he was also loser who was so embittered he just turned his defensiveness into moral/intellectual superiority and inflicted it on everyone else. I was bothered though, to come to that conclusion after only meeting someone twice or so. Besides, I've been/still am a fat defensive loser, and know how it felt to be the subject of snap judgements. So maybe his voice, his combover, his big glasses, his weight, his greasy nose (to be fair, it was hot out. We're all greasy), and his tucked in shirt, just negatively impacted my view of his personality in a way that maybe big muscle-bound good looks wouldn't have, I don't know. In any case, I've kind of become his pity friend (someone who hangs out with someone because they feel sorry for them) except I hope not because that's patronizing, and we do have better intellectual conversations than me with other people, even if his looks and personality are serious turn offs.
Anyway, he was at the foam party and I was surprised because I thought he was an antisocial kind of person, so we had a surprising lot of fun throwing suds and rubber balls at each other and pushing each other over in the vat, and we got all huggy cuz he's BIG. He looks okay (maybe because it was dark) without glasses and his hair gelled by the foam so that it's not in the dorky combover; I don't think his weight is as much of an issue as he makes it out to be; his angry dorkiness is self inflicted, methinks. We didn't dance though because he doesn't do that.
Because he wasn't up to it and I probably wouldn't have been up to it with him anyways, I did some ass grinding dances with Joe and another Eric, Pat's (introduced Monday August 25, 12:36 AM) roommate at Susquehana Second North (henceforth to be referred to as Sus. I will talk about it a lot this year; it is after all also Caitlin's floor). He's very cool and easygoing though unfortunately I don't know him very well. Though it was rather symbolic because he's gay anyway, he had a girl (a Stephanie from Sus for the record, though nobody cares) with him so I felt bad about hogging him all to myself. At one point we were dancing with a rubber inflatable palm tree between us, which allowed us to get more wild and intimate (with the tree) than our states of not-knowing-each other would have allowed us to be with each other. It was funny though. I think we ruled the dance floor for maybe thirty seconds (wasn't hard to rule; remember a lot of the freshmen were standing around feeling embarrassed), and that was the highlight of my night. I danced with Joe too, but he was of course with Lola; so it was mostly like a sandwich dance; Lola on his crotch, me on his butt. I danced with... nonsexually this time.. George, a blonde black boy from Sus who has promised to introduce me to reggae videos.
But people started leaving and the dancing never did pick up momentum (to show you what I mean; the room was cold. Usually at dances the problem is that it gets to damn hot) so I left.
But it's not over yet.
As I was walking back to the dorm, these random people (well not that random.. one guy, some girls I'm not that familiar with on my floor) called out to me, "Would you like to streak?"
I said: "Let me think about that." then "Are you serious?"
and they said, "Yes, we will if other people do it."
and I said, "Can I be arrested?"
and they said, "Yes,"
and I said, "Okay but only to my underwear."
So we did, but one girl insisted we get out of the well lit parking lot and go to the dark field, and then she refused to take off her shirt like the rest of us, because she had a rather immodest bra, so we lost our nerve and quit, promising we'd have the help of alcohol next time. The boy, Jim, did streak with his pants off through the women's floor though. The amusement of this was lost on everyone; they'd all gone home for the weekend. Laura, the girl who refused to take off her shirt, offered her dorm room for truth or dare, and I declined, saying I wasn't drunk enough.
It kind of worries me. I do such weird things when I'm sober.
So anyway, I went with Melissa to see a men's soccer match in the soccer field, and met up with two other freshmen (Joe and Lola) looking for directions. So we went with them, and talked about how amazed we were about the lack of cliques in college and the way people could randomly introduce themselves, and worried when the window of everyone being super-friendly would close. By the time we got there, it was raining ridiculously, and though it made the men in white t-shirts look good and drove off the muggy heat we got seriously wet and the game got canceled because of lightning. Shortly after, it stopped raining, because God has a sense of humor.
Lola had a car, so we took that to Quiznos, a sub place recommended by Joe who lives in the area, around Fort Meade. He lives in a military family and moves around a lot, which is why Lola says he's super-friendly; he has to be to survive. He says he deals with loss a lot better. I wish I could. We ate and then went to Arundel Mills, possibly the biggest mall in Maryland though I don't know for sure. It also has a Medieval Times (a medieval themed entertainment venue with jousting, melee combat, and "medieval cuisine" including anachronistic potatoes) being constructed; I could see its tacky concrete castle halfway finished. YES! It looks so gay (as gay as anything abstractly inanimate can be), I must go when it's operational! At the real, modern mall, we laughed at the Dee's Nuts mall booth ("You have the biggest nuts I've ever seen!") and the explicit sex guide books in the book store. Overall, we were really immature and had a lot of fun, though Joe and Lola seemed mostly involved in each other and me and Melissa didn't really get in any words edgewise.
Lola said as part of her roommate agreement; no sex in the dorm while one roommate was trying to sleep. We laughed, because it implied people could have sex if the roommate was awake. Joe said as part of his roommate agreement; no sex in his dorm, but I didn't see why people can't have sex in their own bed ("I don't want my room to smell like funk!" he replied) or in the shower, ("Oh that's gross," he said) or his car ("No!"). Joe and Lola talked about their alcohol tolerances (and beer pong tables!!!) much like many other people I'd been introduced to, and porn parties on their floor, and I wondered if I was seriously so square as to be the only person to have never gotten drunk or made out with someone by now. It's not so much peer pressure... why should I be in such a hurry to dispense with innocence?... but that I feel that I may be missing so much of life.
BTW: a semi comical goal I've developed this year is to go to Annapolis and lose my virginity to a midshipman. It was rather scandalous in my dorm... some girl someone knew lost 100 pounds through a stomach stapling procedure and went to Annapolis and shagged two naval officers at a time (or straight consecutively, I don't remember.) Girls were repulsed when they heard this story but I thought it rather sounded like fun.
Then we went to the Foam Party, which is like clubbing I guess except in a vat full of soap suds. I got lei'd, but didn't really know anyone and it looked hella stupid with all the freshmen who also didn't know anyone standing around looking hella stupid but I went into the foam vat just for the hell of it. Much to my surprise, Eric (introduced Tuesday, August 26, 6:20 PM blog); big fat smartass loser Eric, was there. I'd talked to him at lunch and while we had some good conversation about my "information should be free" rant (Monday, August 25, 2:43 blog) and other random things, I rather disliked his negative personality. He'd say things like, "I'd rather be fat than be stupid" and he seemed really defensively arrogant about his weight. I mean, I hardly know this guy and it's the first thing he brings up (he introduces his nickname as "the fat boy in the third row"). He said, "I don't have anything against musclebound idiots but..." (and trailed off) in a way that indicated he clearly did have something against them. It was a very highschoolish mentality. And he has a whiny, Doug-like voice that is annoying (not that Doug's voice is annoying; Eric just happens to have a super exaggerated version of Doug's voice), and he has a pretentious way of speaking.
Earlier in the week he had interrupted our motivational speaker, who was talking about diversity and was using an example of how bias was ingrained in even our language. Eric had to point out that actually terms like blackmail, blacklist, black magic, etc, had been in the English language before the introduction of black people. Later in the week he interrupted a presentation on date rape (Monday, August 25, 2:43 blog) to say that he'd like to kick the perpetrator's ass he'd have a bad taste in his mouth. The audience was supposed to participate and discuss of course, but he didn't bring anything to that discussion except his righteous indignation. So anyway, I got the impression that not only was he a loser, but he was also loser who was so embittered he just turned his defensiveness into moral/intellectual superiority and inflicted it on everyone else. I was bothered though, to come to that conclusion after only meeting someone twice or so. Besides, I've been/still am a fat defensive loser, and know how it felt to be the subject of snap judgements. So maybe his voice, his combover, his big glasses, his weight, his greasy nose (to be fair, it was hot out. We're all greasy), and his tucked in shirt, just negatively impacted my view of his personality in a way that maybe big muscle-bound good looks wouldn't have, I don't know. In any case, I've kind of become his pity friend (someone who hangs out with someone because they feel sorry for them) except I hope not because that's patronizing, and we do have better intellectual conversations than me with other people, even if his looks and personality are serious turn offs.
Anyway, he was at the foam party and I was surprised because I thought he was an antisocial kind of person, so we had a surprising lot of fun throwing suds and rubber balls at each other and pushing each other over in the vat, and we got all huggy cuz he's BIG. He looks okay (maybe because it was dark) without glasses and his hair gelled by the foam so that it's not in the dorky combover; I don't think his weight is as much of an issue as he makes it out to be; his angry dorkiness is self inflicted, methinks. We didn't dance though because he doesn't do that.
Because he wasn't up to it and I probably wouldn't have been up to it with him anyways, I did some ass grinding dances with Joe and another Eric, Pat's (introduced Monday August 25, 12:36 AM) roommate at Susquehana Second North (henceforth to be referred to as Sus. I will talk about it a lot this year; it is after all also Caitlin's floor). He's very cool and easygoing though unfortunately I don't know him very well. Though it was rather symbolic because he's gay anyway, he had a girl (a Stephanie from Sus for the record, though nobody cares) with him so I felt bad about hogging him all to myself. At one point we were dancing with a rubber inflatable palm tree between us, which allowed us to get more wild and intimate (with the tree) than our states of not-knowing-each other would have allowed us to be with each other. It was funny though. I think we ruled the dance floor for maybe thirty seconds (wasn't hard to rule; remember a lot of the freshmen were standing around feeling embarrassed), and that was the highlight of my night. I danced with Joe too, but he was of course with Lola; so it was mostly like a sandwich dance; Lola on his crotch, me on his butt. I danced with... nonsexually this time.. George, a blonde black boy from Sus who has promised to introduce me to reggae videos.
But people started leaving and the dancing never did pick up momentum (to show you what I mean; the room was cold. Usually at dances the problem is that it gets to damn hot) so I left.
But it's not over yet.
As I was walking back to the dorm, these random people (well not that random.. one guy, some girls I'm not that familiar with on my floor) called out to me, "Would you like to streak?"
I said: "Let me think about that." then "Are you serious?"
and they said, "Yes, we will if other people do it."
and I said, "Can I be arrested?"
and they said, "Yes,"
and I said, "Okay but only to my underwear."
So we did, but one girl insisted we get out of the well lit parking lot and go to the dark field, and then she refused to take off her shirt like the rest of us, because she had a rather immodest bra, so we lost our nerve and quit, promising we'd have the help of alcohol next time. The boy, Jim, did streak with his pants off through the women's floor though. The amusement of this was lost on everyone; they'd all gone home for the weekend. Laura, the girl who refused to take off her shirt, offered her dorm room for truth or dare, and I declined, saying I wasn't drunk enough.
It kind of worries me. I do such weird things when I'm sober.
I was talking to Lori and we agreed on this; Being in college and not knowing anyone is like getting wisdom teeth pulled; temporary discomfort. Except after the drugs wear off; it's not like it hurts, it just sucks. It's this continuous feeling of sub-surface suckiness that just won't go away.
BTW, my Greek Archaeology class really kicks ass. Today we looked at random slides... it gives me a good excuse to test my sketching skills, both with speed, accuracy, and variability. (Since there are slides of landscapes, people, objects..) The people next to me are majoring in Ancient Studies. I so want to do that (or anthropology, or archaeology); I'm so passionate about it.
The more I think about it the less I understand my econ major.
Practical, makes good money, yes, yes.
Maybe I'll understand when I'm older; maybe it'll be too late.
Or for that matter, why am I in a major that requires little creative writing? Perhaps this is a pretension, but I believe I do it relatively well. I'm bored. Perhaps this would be a good time to start writing a novel.
BTW, my air conditioning has broken down and won't be repaired until next week. We've just opened the door to let the aircon in the hallway come in.
BTW, my Greek Archaeology class really kicks ass. Today we looked at random slides... it gives me a good excuse to test my sketching skills, both with speed, accuracy, and variability. (Since there are slides of landscapes, people, objects..) The people next to me are majoring in Ancient Studies. I so want to do that (or anthropology, or archaeology); I'm so passionate about it.
The more I think about it the less I understand my econ major.
Practical, makes good money, yes, yes.
Maybe I'll understand when I'm older; maybe it'll be too late.
Or for that matter, why am I in a major that requires little creative writing? Perhaps this is a pretension, but I believe I do it relatively well. I'm bored. Perhaps this would be a good time to start writing a novel.
BTW, my air conditioning has broken down and won't be repaired until next week. We've just opened the door to let the aircon in the hallway come in.
Didn't do much yesterday. Went to class... boring... first was linear algebra which confused the daylights out of me even though it's algebra for cryin' out loud. Then went to macroeconomics which bored me to death. We talked about scarcity. The people in my class didn't understand the concept of "marginal." My professor doesn't speak English as a first language and was inarticulate at explaining this (to be fair, he was fairly articulate, just not as articulate as I felt I could have been, and also the students were kinda slow.) I was weeping bored by the end of it.
Read some Wizard's First Rule.
Saw the Matrix Reloaded for $2, but of course, like four months late. I didn't think it was too bad, though I didn't understand the plot, though that could be because I came in 10/20/30 minutes late (I don't know how late I was but I was late). Ate really good popcorn. It was such exceptionally good popcorn it deserves mention here.
Anyway, it turns out that I didn't have an accounting textbook. Apparently there are three books I need. One is the textbook, one is the student workbook, one is a book of working papers. The syllabus is very vague on this- it says you need the book, a workbook, and accounting paper. All of these books have exactly the same name ("Financial Accounting; Tools for Business Decision Making, Third Edition") so I, like a dumbass, thought that the student workbook I had was the textbook (after all, it is in textbook format, readability and all) and the working papers I had was the workbook. So it took me forever to figure out why I couldn't find the homework problems. I thought I might have the wrong textbook, but again, the name thing... when I checked the syllabus, of course the title was the same as that on my workbook, I thought to myself, "But this is the same book," and when I checked the textbook writers' website, which had chapters available online, I downloaded a chapter and checked it against my workbook... and it was the same! So it took me a long time to realize that the problem wasn't that I had a completely different book, but that what I had wasn't the complete textbook. So I had to run out and buy the book and do the homework this morning.
Blah. Ick. >__<
BTW, accounting is easy so far; even Fred and George could do it. I always wondered where they learned to run a business. Maybe they attend the Hogwarts version of MK.
Read some Wizard's First Rule.
Saw the Matrix Reloaded for $2, but of course, like four months late. I didn't think it was too bad, though I didn't understand the plot, though that could be because I came in 10/20/30 minutes late (I don't know how late I was but I was late). Ate really good popcorn. It was such exceptionally good popcorn it deserves mention here.
Anyway, it turns out that I didn't have an accounting textbook. Apparently there are three books I need. One is the textbook, one is the student workbook, one is a book of working papers. The syllabus is very vague on this- it says you need the book, a workbook, and accounting paper. All of these books have exactly the same name ("Financial Accounting; Tools for Business Decision Making, Third Edition") so I, like a dumbass, thought that the student workbook I had was the textbook (after all, it is in textbook format, readability and all) and the working papers I had was the workbook. So it took me forever to figure out why I couldn't find the homework problems. I thought I might have the wrong textbook, but again, the name thing... when I checked the syllabus, of course the title was the same as that on my workbook, I thought to myself, "But this is the same book," and when I checked the textbook writers' website, which had chapters available online, I downloaded a chapter and checked it against my workbook... and it was the same! So it took me a long time to realize that the problem wasn't that I had a completely different book, but that what I had wasn't the complete textbook. So I had to run out and buy the book and do the homework this morning.
Blah. Ick. >__<
BTW, accounting is easy so far; even Fred and George could do it. I always wondered where they learned to run a business. Maybe they attend the Hogwarts version of MK.
Thursday, August 28, 2003
Apparently John and Will's version of Counterstrike is known as Steam and is not bootleg, but a beta testing version available for free. I have it too now. But technicalities are technicalities... the point is that I don't have to pay for Halflife or Counterstrike.
PS: Played Enter the Matrix. That game is just falling down hilarious. Unintentionally.
PS: Played Enter the Matrix. That game is just falling down hilarious. Unintentionally.
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
It was raining cats and dogs tonight, so it rather dampened my plans to go see the Matrix Reloaded (which is being re-released at UMBC many months after its actual theatrical release for an admission fee of $2). Also, I was not enthused about ice cream because I don't want the Freshman Fifteen.
So I went upstairs to John and Will's room, where they have their computers hooked up with each other and was rapidly schooled by them in the ways of Counterstrike and Unreal Tournament. I learned the values of cover, sporadic firing, and had a lot of fun. It's funny... the boys across the hall also were playing Counterstrike, though not with us because we were using the noncompatible bootleg version. But the whole floor is like a gamer's floor. It's awesome. I promised to bring my PS2, and then our domination will be complete.
So I went upstairs to John and Will's room, where they have their computers hooked up with each other and was rapidly schooled by them in the ways of Counterstrike and Unreal Tournament. I learned the values of cover, sporadic firing, and had a lot of fun. It's funny... the boys across the hall also were playing Counterstrike, though not with us because we were using the noncompatible bootleg version. But the whole floor is like a gamer's floor. It's awesome. I promised to bring my PS2, and then our domination will be complete.
For Jen in Bryn Mawr
I talked yesterday to a sociology professor, Dr. Rothstein. We talked about the difference between applied anthropoloy and traditional anthropology. Traditional has emphasis on pre-literate cultures, while applied emphasizes the study of human behavior in modern societies, to analyze things like crime or consumer behavior, etc. Obviously applied anthropology leads to more job opportunities. He recommended some books too, which I may never read but you may find useful: "The Human Group" by George Caspar Homans published in 1950 and "Cooperation and Competition Among Primitive Peoples" by Margaret Mead. The first book has stuff on Polynesia and Tiki and the Norton Street Gang; obviously the first two things are traditional anthropology and the last is applied.
I talked yesterday to a sociology professor, Dr. Rothstein. We talked about the difference between applied anthropoloy and traditional anthropology. Traditional has emphasis on pre-literate cultures, while applied emphasizes the study of human behavior in modern societies, to analyze things like crime or consumer behavior, etc. Obviously applied anthropology leads to more job opportunities. He recommended some books too, which I may never read but you may find useful: "The Human Group" by George Caspar Homans published in 1950 and "Cooperation and Competition Among Primitive Peoples" by Margaret Mead. The first book has stuff on Polynesia and Tiki and the Norton Street Gang; obviously the first two things are traditional anthropology and the last is applied.
Had "Principles of Accounting" and "Ancient Greek Archaeology" today. The first one blew chunks.. for the hour while I was learning about balancing sheets I was like.. "Am I going to spend my life doing this?" I am an econ major after all. But Arc gave me hope, although other people found it boring. (But honestly, if you're not interested, why the hell take the class? It's not like you're in archaeology for the money, fucktard.) Is this cool or is this cool? Hurrah! Wars and gay sex! Badass.
People who went to Greece with and Ex-Archaeology Club people who read this will know exactly how I feel, except I feel even better. No more square/round nails and coke bottles for me!
The cynics (most likely Andrew P) will remind me of the living hell that is pottery shards and "creamware," but you can go to Hellas.
Don't rain on my party!
People who went to Greece with and Ex-Archaeology Club people who read this will know exactly how I feel, except I feel even better. No more square/round nails and coke bottles for me!
The cynics (most likely Andrew P) will remind me of the living hell that is pottery shards and "creamware," but you can go to Hellas.
Don't rain on my party!
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
Wherein Angie Has Some Crazy Orgasmic Fun
Discovered, to my joy, that I can call Lauren non long distance from my cell. Yay!
Also:
Asked Caitlin if Andrew D's blog was incomprehensible or if it was just me. No, Andrew's blog really is incomprehensible. I myself don't understand why I don't understand his blog. I don't think my own blog is any more coherent, yet I undersand myself.
Anyway, tonight was "Crazy Fun Night," which I went to with Will* and John, the boys from the room above me. They came, kind of in apology for their air conditioning leaking all over our room (it's since been fixed), and Will was very chivalrous, holding doors open for me and things (!). It was very sweet. John was preoocupied and possibly stressed out; apparently he only got his schedule finalized today, and classes are tomorrow. There was laser tag, a giant inflatable slide, black light pool (billiards type pool, unfortunately, not a swimming pool), karaoke, fake gambling games, a gyroscope, popcorn, cotton candy, sno-cones, drinks and raffle tickets.
The line for laser tag was incredibly long (my roommate who eventually got in said it took an hour) so I didn't go, and pool is accessible any time. But I did go on the giant slide, which is great climbing up hand over hand with the rope as the thing bounces and rocks, and then bouncing all the way down (if you just slide, like I did the first time, you will get friction burn). Learned to play blackjack and the wheel of fortune... lost gratuitous amounts of fake money. Watched people do karaoke, which was hilarious, because it was lively, with people performing like in music videos. Also went on the gyroscope, was the last person in line, and unlike other people, did actually scream while on it. (another person had his loose change fall out) Don't know if it's more fun or more tortuous, but it felt so good after I got off. The guy who worked the slide (by ensuring not too many people got on it) had said to the guy who worked the gyroscope (by pushing it and stopping it): "You should get your wife on this. Maybe then you could make her scream." Paraphrased of course; I didn't get exact words because I was kind of whirling around on my head at the time.
*not Will Cooper, the Will I met for lunch on Sunday. I don't see him around, though we AIM. He does deserve a short cameo in today's blog though; he folded an oragami crane, and gave it to my roommate to give to me. Aww..
Discovered, to my joy, that I can call Lauren non long distance from my cell. Yay!
Also:
Asked Caitlin if Andrew D's blog was incomprehensible or if it was just me. No, Andrew's blog really is incomprehensible. I myself don't understand why I don't understand his blog. I don't think my own blog is any more coherent, yet I undersand myself.
Anyway, tonight was "Crazy Fun Night," which I went to with Will* and John, the boys from the room above me. They came, kind of in apology for their air conditioning leaking all over our room (it's since been fixed), and Will was very chivalrous, holding doors open for me and things (!). It was very sweet. John was preoocupied and possibly stressed out; apparently he only got his schedule finalized today, and classes are tomorrow. There was laser tag, a giant inflatable slide, black light pool (billiards type pool, unfortunately, not a swimming pool), karaoke, fake gambling games, a gyroscope, popcorn, cotton candy, sno-cones, drinks and raffle tickets.
The line for laser tag was incredibly long (my roommate who eventually got in said it took an hour) so I didn't go, and pool is accessible any time. But I did go on the giant slide, which is great climbing up hand over hand with the rope as the thing bounces and rocks, and then bouncing all the way down (if you just slide, like I did the first time, you will get friction burn). Learned to play blackjack and the wheel of fortune... lost gratuitous amounts of fake money. Watched people do karaoke, which was hilarious, because it was lively, with people performing like in music videos. Also went on the gyroscope, was the last person in line, and unlike other people, did actually scream while on it. (another person had his loose change fall out) Don't know if it's more fun or more tortuous, but it felt so good after I got off. The guy who worked the slide (by ensuring not too many people got on it) had said to the guy who worked the gyroscope (by pushing it and stopping it): "You should get your wife on this. Maybe then you could make her scream." Paraphrased of course; I didn't get exact words because I was kind of whirling around on my head at the time.
*not Will Cooper, the Will I met for lunch on Sunday. I don't see him around, though we AIM. He does deserve a short cameo in today's blog though; he folded an oragami crane, and gave it to my roommate to give to me. Aww..
Last night, we went to a hypnotist show, which was really funny but kind of creepy. Later, Eric (one of many Erics I know) who was hypnotized, was really shaken and like, "I need someone to talk to." He made me say one of those trigger words, and I yelled, "GOLD!" In the show, when the hypnotist says gold, the hypnotized person think there's a little leprechaun in the room with a potta, and chases it. So when I yelled gold Eric attacked me. He apologized for it afterwards. Bizarre.
Met Lori Rowan, Andrew D's girlfriend, today. She's very nice, and not nearly as freaky as Andrew. Apparently she went to RM. I never knew. Pity. I looked through her pictures (here in these boring dorms it's a form of entertainment) and there are pictures of her at graduation, and at the senior picnic with Malex and Nick. So you must know her, gentle readers. She also has, framed, a photo of Andrew D wearing a crab hat. Apparently it's a graduation picnic.
Honestly though, I think if you're bored, you aren't trying hard enough. You can always come up with things to do, like me. I get so bored that I transcend to this sublime level of happiness; everything seems so exciting. Some people get high on crack; I get high on boredom. But seriously, there are many things you can do. You can paint a picture with toothpaste on your mirror. You can throw rocks at puddles. You can make a paperclip chain as long as your dorm hall. You can throw water balloons at hapless pedestrians outside your dorm room window. You can roll down hills or go land sledding on a cardboard box. You could go on a slip and slide. You can string together bottle caps to make a bracelet. You can have a fake campfire with a fan blowing orange tissue paper, and microwaved s'mores, and blast Kumbaya.mp3 from your computer. And those are just things you can do by yourself... with people, you can play Werewolf, crack-the-whip, red rover, spin the bottle, human jousting.. The opportunities are endless. If you have to resort to drinking and having sex, you are a truly sad person.
(Though if you drink and have sex not as a last resort, you're okay.)
Met Lori Rowan, Andrew D's girlfriend, today. She's very nice, and not nearly as freaky as Andrew. Apparently she went to RM. I never knew. Pity. I looked through her pictures (here in these boring dorms it's a form of entertainment) and there are pictures of her at graduation, and at the senior picnic with Malex and Nick. So you must know her, gentle readers. She also has, framed, a photo of Andrew D wearing a crab hat. Apparently it's a graduation picnic.
Honestly though, I think if you're bored, you aren't trying hard enough. You can always come up with things to do, like me. I get so bored that I transcend to this sublime level of happiness; everything seems so exciting. Some people get high on crack; I get high on boredom. But seriously, there are many things you can do. You can paint a picture with toothpaste on your mirror. You can throw rocks at puddles. You can make a paperclip chain as long as your dorm hall. You can throw water balloons at hapless pedestrians outside your dorm room window. You can roll down hills or go land sledding on a cardboard box. You could go on a slip and slide. You can string together bottle caps to make a bracelet. You can have a fake campfire with a fan blowing orange tissue paper, and microwaved s'mores, and blast Kumbaya.mp3 from your computer. And those are just things you can do by yourself... with people, you can play Werewolf, crack-the-whip, red rover, spin the bottle, human jousting.. The opportunities are endless. If you have to resort to drinking and having sex, you are a truly sad person.
(Though if you drink and have sex not as a last resort, you're okay.)
Monday, August 25, 2003
These are really cool chairs. They have rockers, so you can lean back in them, but it's kind of creepy we you feel yourself tilting back and you don't know if you'll fall over. I tried this though.. no matter how far you lean though, you simply won't fall.
Also, the air conditioning from the room above us is dripping on us. We've put out plastic cups under the drip but those don't contain all that well. I want to install a gutter.
Also, the air conditioning from the room above us is dripping on us. We've put out plastic cups under the drip but those don't contain all that well. I want to install a gutter.
Wherein Angie Loots, Rapes and Pillages
Went to this thing on sexual assault in which these actors role-play a scenario. There was this drunk chick who had sex and then woke up really upset, and her friends were like "ooh, you've been raped!" and the guy who did it was like "no, it was consentual." I think I was the only one in the audience who didn't think she as raped, because she didn't actually say no. She said "not right now" when she was in the car, which could mean "later" and she said "that's it" while he was taking off her shirt. Now maybe it's just my uptight IB self, which has been brainwashed into never using the word "this" or "that" by itself in a sentence, but "that's it" is seriously ambiguous. Is it "that's it" as in "that's enough" or "that's it" as in "oooh baby, that's it"? That's what? What's what? And the boy was drunk too, and they'd been making out beforehand, so seriously, how much linguistic comprehension do you expect him to possess? And plus, boys are stupid... if you don't say "NO, I'm not having sex with you tonight, stop it" you can't expect them to read your mind or even decypher your cryptic sentences while you're drooling all over them and both of you are raging drunk. Being dumb is not a crime.
I feel like an asshole for not being like, "You evil rapist!"
We also had a talk on file sharing. Apparently, in a wink-nod way while being totally straight faced, the guy said that you can only be tracked on a file sharing program if you're sharing files, so you can really download all you want. Plus, there's always mIRC. I'm morally outraged at not being able to share, which of course is totally irrational because pirating files is immoral in the first place. But I irrationally feel that information should be free; of all things in the world, from food to love to reputation, it seems that only ideas truly are free to be circulated and are the most basic principle of egalitarianism. It's a lovely idea, isn't it? Doesn't reflect economic reality at all though... it costs money to print books, money to maintain satelites, money to maintain wiring and fiber optics, money to buy acoustic equipment, money to distribute records. Somehow though I even hate paying money to talk on my cell phone, money to go online. It's totally reasonable for them to charge of course, but I just... emotionally and perhaps stupidly... feel cruddy that I have to pay to express myself. It really is a pity, because for me it seems that such things as art and music and words should be obtainable (for free) by everyone. It's not satisfying to have to pay for them, which is probably why so many people download, more for that than pure greed. It's like communism; I think communism is morally reprehensible. You shouldn't steal from someone no matter how much you need what they have, no matter how little they deserve their fortune, which is at least one thing Atlas Shrugged has taught me. But sometimes people feel so cheated of something that's rightfully their's that they do steal, even though it's immoral, thinking "why can't I?" "why shouldn't I?" "I deserve this."
And that's how I feel about music, and I continue to pirate.
Yo ho, yo ho...
Went to this thing on sexual assault in which these actors role-play a scenario. There was this drunk chick who had sex and then woke up really upset, and her friends were like "ooh, you've been raped!" and the guy who did it was like "no, it was consentual." I think I was the only one in the audience who didn't think she as raped, because she didn't actually say no. She said "not right now" when she was in the car, which could mean "later" and she said "that's it" while he was taking off her shirt. Now maybe it's just my uptight IB self, which has been brainwashed into never using the word "this" or "that" by itself in a sentence, but "that's it" is seriously ambiguous. Is it "that's it" as in "that's enough" or "that's it" as in "oooh baby, that's it"? That's what? What's what? And the boy was drunk too, and they'd been making out beforehand, so seriously, how much linguistic comprehension do you expect him to possess? And plus, boys are stupid... if you don't say "NO, I'm not having sex with you tonight, stop it" you can't expect them to read your mind or even decypher your cryptic sentences while you're drooling all over them and both of you are raging drunk. Being dumb is not a crime.
I feel like an asshole for not being like, "You evil rapist!"
We also had a talk on file sharing. Apparently, in a wink-nod way while being totally straight faced, the guy said that you can only be tracked on a file sharing program if you're sharing files, so you can really download all you want. Plus, there's always mIRC. I'm morally outraged at not being able to share, which of course is totally irrational because pirating files is immoral in the first place. But I irrationally feel that information should be free; of all things in the world, from food to love to reputation, it seems that only ideas truly are free to be circulated and are the most basic principle of egalitarianism. It's a lovely idea, isn't it? Doesn't reflect economic reality at all though... it costs money to print books, money to maintain satelites, money to maintain wiring and fiber optics, money to buy acoustic equipment, money to distribute records. Somehow though I even hate paying money to talk on my cell phone, money to go online. It's totally reasonable for them to charge of course, but I just... emotionally and perhaps stupidly... feel cruddy that I have to pay to express myself. It really is a pity, because for me it seems that such things as art and music and words should be obtainable (for free) by everyone. It's not satisfying to have to pay for them, which is probably why so many people download, more for that than pure greed. It's like communism; I think communism is morally reprehensible. You shouldn't steal from someone no matter how much you need what they have, no matter how little they deserve their fortune, which is at least one thing Atlas Shrugged has taught me. But sometimes people feel so cheated of something that's rightfully their's that they do steal, even though it's immoral, thinking "why can't I?" "why shouldn't I?" "I deserve this."
And that's how I feel about music, and I continue to pirate.
Yo ho, yo ho...
Yet another reason why Susquehana Hall rules and Chesapeake ... rules less:
Susquehana dorms are routinely invaded by shirt ninjas, who barge into our room and throw paper ninja stars at you with messages reading: "YOU HAVE BEEN NINJAED!"
Chesapeake dorms are routinely invaded by drunks on tequila.
(at least they're hot and male. Don't know how long that will last.)
Susquehana dorms are routinely invaded by shirt ninjas, who barge into our room and throw paper ninja stars at you with messages reading: "YOU HAVE BEEN NINJAED!"
Chesapeake dorms are routinely invaded by drunks on tequila.
(at least they're hot and male. Don't know how long that will last.)
Not so random people meeting on Sunday as well;
Went to the Inner Harbor to eat dinner with my parents (well not "went." My parents drove me, since they came over to drop off a minifridge and my underwear... heh. ) I fell asleep in the car on the way back and it was quiet and dark and comforting and it almost felt like I was at home again, but when I woke up I was at college, and everything was strange still.
Met Caitlin B and a lot of her friends. Yeah, she's pretty, she's nice. She likes Buffy. You all know Caitlin better than I, so this description is probably redundant. Her hall, Susquehana, kicks ass, while mine, Chesapeake. is quiet. Cuz I'm on the "women's floor." No boys to make trouble. Damn women. On her floor is Pat, who brought DDR. He's a major otaku with yaoi posters on his walls, but he is a straight boi. We talked about yuri vs yaoi and Otakon and German penises ("a long word for a short thing"). He is cool. I also met more other people at random, including a whole group of black people. I feel bad because I only remember half their names; in all seriousness, they all look alike, which is a horrible thing to say, but I'm honestly having trouble telling people of the same skin, eye, and hair color apart and also some of the names can be difficult. It's no longer like the IB with like the solo black person... or none. Since I'm already lumping all dark-skinned minorities together (okay Asian people too... can't tell Asian people apart) I feel I should say that I saw Koushik again. WHO? I didn't know either until I saw him today. I haven't seen him "in like ten years," and vaguely remember going to CTY at Sandy Springs with him, way back in the elementary school days. It's very strange; I don't remember him at all but I recognized his face. Watched Chicago on DVD in Caitlin and Allison (her roommate, who wasn't feeling well earlier)'s room. They're bunked together, and their room is the homiest on the floor.
On the emotional side of college, I don't feel anything at all. Not depression, homesickness or giddy happiness at new things.. I'm just stunned and flattened like a landed flounder. The one thing to say is, all the people meeting can be emotionally draining, and when you're alone you feel really alone. But it's also so easy to visit people that I think once I get to know more people better, I will be happy.
Went to the Inner Harbor to eat dinner with my parents (well not "went." My parents drove me, since they came over to drop off a minifridge and my underwear... heh. ) I fell asleep in the car on the way back and it was quiet and dark and comforting and it almost felt like I was at home again, but when I woke up I was at college, and everything was strange still.
Met Caitlin B and a lot of her friends. Yeah, she's pretty, she's nice. She likes Buffy. You all know Caitlin better than I, so this description is probably redundant. Her hall, Susquehana, kicks ass, while mine, Chesapeake. is quiet. Cuz I'm on the "women's floor." No boys to make trouble. Damn women. On her floor is Pat, who brought DDR. He's a major otaku with yaoi posters on his walls, but he is a straight boi. We talked about yuri vs yaoi and Otakon and German penises ("a long word for a short thing"). He is cool. I also met more other people at random, including a whole group of black people. I feel bad because I only remember half their names; in all seriousness, they all look alike, which is a horrible thing to say, but I'm honestly having trouble telling people of the same skin, eye, and hair color apart and also some of the names can be difficult. It's no longer like the IB with like the solo black person... or none. Since I'm already lumping all dark-skinned minorities together (okay Asian people too... can't tell Asian people apart) I feel I should say that I saw Koushik again. WHO? I didn't know either until I saw him today. I haven't seen him "in like ten years," and vaguely remember going to CTY at Sandy Springs with him, way back in the elementary school days. It's very strange; I don't remember him at all but I recognized his face. Watched Chicago on DVD in Caitlin and Allison (her roommate, who wasn't feeling well earlier)'s room. They're bunked together, and their room is the homiest on the floor.
On the emotional side of college, I don't feel anything at all. Not depression, homesickness or giddy happiness at new things.. I'm just stunned and flattened like a landed flounder. The one thing to say is, all the people meeting can be emotionally draining, and when you're alone you feel really alone. But it's also so easy to visit people that I think once I get to know more people better, I will be happy.
Sunday, August 24, 2003
Have met some people, mostly at random. This morning, wandering around because my roommate was still sleeping, joined up with Lily and Ariana, two girls who were also looking, futilely, for breakfast. Nothing was open, as only freshmen have moved in so far, so I went to their suite. They went to Gaithersburg High, but knew Ben Evans in middle school. They wonder if he turned out to be cute, and remember him to be sweet and a leader of "Future Farmers of America." Apparently Lily traumatized him in eighth grade on a King's Dominion trip and thinks that Ben would remember her. Okay. They were too cool for me, though not advertantly or in a snobby way, and spent the whole time I was there looking through photos of people on their high school girl's lacrosse team reminiscing on which girls were good/bad/bitchy (none of who I know), hot male friends (none of who I know), and cute Hollywood couples (none of who I know). This is why I don't really get along well with people who know each other already; I don't know any of it.
Sarah, an RM alumni who graduated last year and wears a hajib is here also, and is a guide on my floor. I might have known her. I don't know.
Went to some welcome speech thing about diversity and the way people tend to get together in groups. It was quite good actually. Downside; have been guilted into writing letters home. Let's see if I can get stamps and envelopes and so forth.
Went to ... brunch. Met more random people. Will and Liz, who know each other in the loosest sense of the word in that they met each other yesterday. Will's a talkative comp-sci major who lives off campus. Liz doesn't say very much. I got their AIMs and we gossiped about the antics of our high school teachers.
My parents will be coming in like an hour to drop off my bag of underwear, which I left at home yesterday. Oh yeah, and a minifridge.
Sarah, an RM alumni who graduated last year and wears a hajib is here also, and is a guide on my floor. I might have known her. I don't know.
Went to some welcome speech thing about diversity and the way people tend to get together in groups. It was quite good actually. Downside; have been guilted into writing letters home. Let's see if I can get stamps and envelopes and so forth.
Went to ... brunch. Met more random people. Will and Liz, who know each other in the loosest sense of the word in that they met each other yesterday. Will's a talkative comp-sci major who lives off campus. Liz doesn't say very much. I got their AIMs and we gossiped about the antics of our high school teachers.
My parents will be coming in like an hour to drop off my bag of underwear, which I left at home yesterday. Oh yeah, and a minifridge.
T, on Friday before I left for college, visited me for one last time with Mehmet, and gave me some advice:
-Don't be distracted.
-If someone tries to rape you, yell "FIRE!" because if you yell "Rape!" people may not necessarily come to your rescue. (A kind of cynical view of humanity, IMHO, but true.... I've heard cases of people totally ignoring rape in public.)
-Don't leave your laptop on overnight or it'll overheat.
-Don't download exe files from Kazaa.
So there you go.
-Don't be distracted.
-If someone tries to rape you, yell "FIRE!" because if you yell "Rape!" people may not necessarily come to your rescue. (A kind of cynical view of humanity, IMHO, but true.... I've heard cases of people totally ignoring rape in public.)
-Don't leave your laptop on overnight or it'll overheat.
-Don't download exe files from Kazaa.
So there you go.
Got a Trigun wallpaper. I also want a Trigun wallscroll, for real life of course. I'm so addicted. Eeek. Lauren!!! XD
Went to "Playfair," an icebreaker type activity in which people frenetically introduce themselves to as many other people as possible, in the form of many different games and totally random events. It's hell for people who aren't people persons. I don't know if I was a people person or not; I had fun but was embarrassed at the forced social activity.
After I came back to my dorm I anti-virused my laptop; it's a new laptop, and I was amazed to have had a worm already.
Went and talked with the girl who lives in the room next to mine. We share a bathroom between our rooms and so are in and out of each other's rooms often. Her roommate has yet to move in, so in the quad there are three of us; me, Casey (my roommate) and Melissa. Melissa is a pink-haired girl from Staten Island. She plays the guitar (acoustic and electric) and used to have a punk band called Pocky, named, of course, after the Japanese dessert. She has Totoro tatooed to her hip, and she is damn cool.
She thinks our accents are funny, which amuses me to no end.
Went to "Playfair," an icebreaker type activity in which people frenetically introduce themselves to as many other people as possible, in the form of many different games and totally random events. It's hell for people who aren't people persons. I don't know if I was a people person or not; I had fun but was embarrassed at the forced social activity.
After I came back to my dorm I anti-virused my laptop; it's a new laptop, and I was amazed to have had a worm already.
Went and talked with the girl who lives in the room next to mine. We share a bathroom between our rooms and so are in and out of each other's rooms often. Her roommate has yet to move in, so in the quad there are three of us; me, Casey (my roommate) and Melissa. Melissa is a pink-haired girl from Staten Island. She plays the guitar (acoustic and electric) and used to have a punk band called Pocky, named, of course, after the Japanese dessert. She has Totoro tatooed to her hip, and she is damn cool.
She thinks our accents are funny, which amuses me to no end.
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