Mindlessly running up and down the stairs mindlessly running up and down the stairs mindlessly running up and down the stairs mindlessly running up and down the stairs mindlessly running up and down the stairs
God I'm bored.
Friday, February 21, 2003
>From: Valla Bernhardt
>To: "'mbonnan@hotmail.com'"
>Subject: RE: sauropod necks again>Date: Fri, 16 Jul 1999 11:28:04 -0500>
>Firstly, Matt, thanks for once again echoing my skepticism of a scientific
>article. :-)>However, I do have a question....>
> >> What if Barosaurus didn't rear? Is the mammalian way
> > of mating (i.e., rearing up) the only way to mate? <<> >
>I may be compleatly insane for this, but I can't quite imagine another way
>for them to do it, aside from external fertilization which doesn't seem >like
>it would work well amongst incredibly large land vertebrates.
>Any theories? Or is that too bizarre?>>
To: vbernhardt@dallas.clarkbardes.com
Subject: On rearing to mate (was RE: sauropod necks again)
From: "Matthew Bonnan"
Date: Sat, 24 Jul 1999 11:07:30 PDT
Cc: dinosaur@usc.edu
Reply-To: mbonnan@hotmail.com
Sender: owner-dinosaur@usc.edu
Well, I'm not an "expert" by any means on reproduction (take that however
you like =) ) but consider the fact that mammals really have nothing in the
way of tails. Mammalian tails are not the huge, powerfully muscled tails we
find in reptiles, and therefore mating by the male rearing up over on top of
the female is not "problematic" in the sense that there is no huge tail in
the way.
Furthermore, consider thyreophorans, the armored dinosaurs: stegosaurs with
spikes and plates on their backs, ankylosaurs with large armored tails and
backs. Did these animals rear to mate? No one, of course, knows the answer
to a question like that (yet), but it would be very interesting indeed if
they did!
I don't have a source, but I've been told that some cammels have a situation
where the female lays sideways on the ground, and the male mates her from
above. Maybe sauropods used a system like this? Maybe sauropods used
water, and lay side by side with their underbodies facing each other? How
did they get their big tails out of the way of their vents? Was there an
integumentary structure that allowed sperm to travel to the female's vent
from the outside (a modified form of external/internal fertilization)?
It's a fascinating subject, and I know there are paleontologists out there
more knowledgeable than I on this subject, but unfortunately we are left
with a lot of speculation and very little testability. Bruce Rothschild and
David Berman (1991, Fusion of the caudal vertebrae in Late Jurassic
sauropods. Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, 11(1): 29-36) looked at the
tail verts of various Jurassic sauropods and noted that about 50% of them
had fused tail verts suggestive of sexual differences -- the reasons elude
me now as I haven't read the article in quite some time. You may wish to
look at that article, though, because if memory serves I think they have
other references cited in it that may be of use.
In any case, rearing to mate is not the only option available for dinosaurs
to procreate.
Matt Bonnan
Dept Biological Sciences
Northern Illinois University
Well, now you know.
>To: "'mbonnan@hotmail.com'"
>Subject: RE: sauropod necks again>Date: Fri, 16 Jul 1999 11:28:04 -0500>
>Firstly, Matt, thanks for once again echoing my skepticism of a scientific
>article. :-)>However, I do have a question....>
> >> What if Barosaurus didn't rear? Is the mammalian way
> > of mating (i.e., rearing up) the only way to mate? <<> >
>I may be compleatly insane for this, but I can't quite imagine another way
>for them to do it, aside from external fertilization which doesn't seem >like
>it would work well amongst incredibly large land vertebrates.
>Any theories? Or is that too bizarre?>>
To: vbernhardt@dallas.clarkbardes.com
Subject: On rearing to mate (was RE: sauropod necks again)
From: "Matthew Bonnan"
Date: Sat, 24 Jul 1999 11:07:30 PDT
Cc: dinosaur@usc.edu
Reply-To: mbonnan@hotmail.com
Sender: owner-dinosaur@usc.edu
Well, I'm not an "expert" by any means on reproduction (take that however
you like =) ) but consider the fact that mammals really have nothing in the
way of tails. Mammalian tails are not the huge, powerfully muscled tails we
find in reptiles, and therefore mating by the male rearing up over on top of
the female is not "problematic" in the sense that there is no huge tail in
the way.
Furthermore, consider thyreophorans, the armored dinosaurs: stegosaurs with
spikes and plates on their backs, ankylosaurs with large armored tails and
backs. Did these animals rear to mate? No one, of course, knows the answer
to a question like that (yet), but it would be very interesting indeed if
they did!
I don't have a source, but I've been told that some cammels have a situation
where the female lays sideways on the ground, and the male mates her from
above. Maybe sauropods used a system like this? Maybe sauropods used
water, and lay side by side with their underbodies facing each other? How
did they get their big tails out of the way of their vents? Was there an
integumentary structure that allowed sperm to travel to the female's vent
from the outside (a modified form of external/internal fertilization)?
It's a fascinating subject, and I know there are paleontologists out there
more knowledgeable than I on this subject, but unfortunately we are left
with a lot of speculation and very little testability. Bruce Rothschild and
David Berman (1991, Fusion of the caudal vertebrae in Late Jurassic
sauropods. Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, 11(1): 29-36) looked at the
tail verts of various Jurassic sauropods and noted that about 50% of them
had fused tail verts suggestive of sexual differences -- the reasons elude
me now as I haven't read the article in quite some time. You may wish to
look at that article, though, because if memory serves I think they have
other references cited in it that may be of use.
In any case, rearing to mate is not the only option available for dinosaurs
to procreate.
Matt Bonnan
Dept Biological Sciences
Northern Illinois University
Well, now you know.
Wednesday, February 19, 2003
Blackbat2 = online friend you people don't know.
SFX 87: Oh my god, I think I've discovered the worst webcomic of all time
Blackbat2: ?
SFX 87: *crawls into a fetal position* The horror! The horror!
Blackbat2: WHERE? :D
SFX 87: Now.. don't be deceived.. the art is good.
SFX 87: But I want you to read like.. five months of this in one night, as I have..
SFX 87: http://rovana.keenspace.com/
Blackbat2: JUST LINK ME XD
SFX 87: WILL THE BAD ROMANCE NEVER STOP???
SFX 87: (it does. Five months later. Which is when the bad political bickering begins)
Blackbat2: **is reading from the beginning**
SFX 87: Which is what I did
SFX 87: see, it's not even bad for entertainment value.
Blackbat2: This is...
SFX 87: I've seen some comics that are so bad they're funny
SFX 87: but this is just bad.
Blackbat2: This is WOW
Blackbat2: XD
SFX 87: Can we give it an award or something?
Blackbat2: EEW! I cant read this. XD I'll never get my homework done
Blackbat2: How did you find this? XD
SFX 87: Link.
SFX 87: From another comic which I previously had thought was the worst webcomic ever
SFX 87: I was like, "Hmm, can't be as bad as that one"
SFX 87: also the art looked good.
Blackbat2: LMAO!!! XD
Blackbat2: You are a glutton for punishment :D
SFX 87: I need to make a site.
SFX 87: See, this artist is a fan of the other artist.
SFX 87: So I found the link through fan art.
SFX 87: the art's infinitely worse but the other one gets points for having heart, and also for entertainment value.
Blackbat2: It amazes me how you have a knack for finding the weirdest/funniest links ever. XD
SFX 87: I think I've seen worse, but not as an actually updated webcomic.
SFX 87: no, wait.
SFX 87: I've seen worse.
SFX 87: But I haven't read as much of it.
SFX 87: I wonder if I should stop reading this
Blackbat2: Like I sad - GLUTTON FOR PUNISHMENT XD
SFX 87: I've seen worse, but only drawn by my online friends. (not you)
SFX 87: "Oh no! The dolphin's dead!"
SFX 87: (paraphrasing, but you get the point)
Blackbat2: XD
SFX 87: "NOOO! NOT THE DOLPHIN!!!"
SFX 87: *angry tears* "You KILLED the dolphin!"
SFX 87: "I couldn't save him."
SFX 87: something like that. God it sucked donkey balls.
SFX 87: Oh my god, I think I've discovered the worst webcomic of all time
Blackbat2: ?
SFX 87: *crawls into a fetal position* The horror! The horror!
Blackbat2: WHERE? :D
SFX 87: Now.. don't be deceived.. the art is good.
SFX 87: But I want you to read like.. five months of this in one night, as I have..
SFX 87: http://rovana.keenspace.com/
Blackbat2: JUST LINK ME XD
SFX 87: WILL THE BAD ROMANCE NEVER STOP???
SFX 87: (it does. Five months later. Which is when the bad political bickering begins)
Blackbat2: **is reading from the beginning**
SFX 87: Which is what I did
SFX 87: see, it's not even bad for entertainment value.
Blackbat2: This is...
SFX 87: I've seen some comics that are so bad they're funny
SFX 87: but this is just bad.
Blackbat2: This is WOW
Blackbat2: XD
SFX 87: Can we give it an award or something?
Blackbat2: EEW! I cant read this. XD I'll never get my homework done
Blackbat2: How did you find this? XD
SFX 87: Link.
SFX 87: From another comic which I previously had thought was the worst webcomic ever
SFX 87: I was like, "Hmm, can't be as bad as that one"
SFX 87: also the art looked good.
Blackbat2: LMAO!!! XD
Blackbat2: You are a glutton for punishment :D
SFX 87: I need to make a site.
SFX 87: See, this artist is a fan of the other artist.
SFX 87: So I found the link through fan art.
SFX 87: the art's infinitely worse but the other one gets points for having heart, and also for entertainment value.
Blackbat2: It amazes me how you have a knack for finding the weirdest/funniest links ever. XD
SFX 87: I think I've seen worse, but not as an actually updated webcomic.
SFX 87: no, wait.
SFX 87: I've seen worse.
SFX 87: But I haven't read as much of it.
SFX 87: I wonder if I should stop reading this
Blackbat2: Like I sad - GLUTTON FOR PUNISHMENT XD
SFX 87: I've seen worse, but only drawn by my online friends. (not you)
SFX 87: "Oh no! The dolphin's dead!"
SFX 87: (paraphrasing, but you get the point)
Blackbat2: XD
SFX 87: "NOOO! NOT THE DOLPHIN!!!"
SFX 87: *angry tears* "You KILLED the dolphin!"
SFX 87: "I couldn't save him."
SFX 87: something like that. God it sucked donkey balls.
Sunday, February 16, 2003
I had this dream wherein, in the new GameCube game "Mario Sunshine" (the very latest in this proud series about Italian plumbers), Mario and Mario's evil clone (in my dream, not Wario, but just someone who looked exactly like Mario but evil) became gay lovers. They didn't look like Mario... they looked like average burly mustached Italian men. They had mansex in Mario (Mario 1)'s Italian villa.
I was so freaked out.
I also had this dream wherin it was discovered that there was this new girl at RM who looked and acted exactly like Rachel M, and I was like, "Hey, have you met Rachel M?" (They weren't clones or twins; though for all intensive purposes they could've been- it's just one of those dream things where you just know stuff. They were two seperate people) And she was like, "Yeah, I she's my friend." And they met each other in the hall. And that's when I woke up, very freaked out.
I was so freaked out.
I also had this dream wherin it was discovered that there was this new girl at RM who looked and acted exactly like Rachel M, and I was like, "Hey, have you met Rachel M?" (They weren't clones or twins; though for all intensive purposes they could've been- it's just one of those dream things where you just know stuff. They were two seperate people) And she was like, "Yeah, I she's my friend." And they met each other in the hall. And that's when I woke up, very freaked out.
Wednesday, February 12, 2003
You're a Non-box.
What box do you get put in?
brought to you by Quizilla
Ah, Quizilla, you read me like a book.
Well, last week was the happiest I've been in a long time. Just living life as it is and not yearning for or fretting about something in the future, and not really regretting not being in another time. That's when I'm happiest, I think.
The only regret I have is not walking home in Monday's wild and beautiful flurries.
Well, that was last week.
My designation of weeks is rather arbitrary; being that Tuesday, the unexpected half day, was spent all on my history IA, I have marked it as the beginning of this new dreary and hellish week, the Week of the IA stretching from Tuesday to Tuesday. You know how people say that time flies when you're having fun? This is true, but time also flies when you're stuck in a suckysucksuck-fest. Amazing, I spent seven hours reading about Hitler. That does not make life better; you'd think I'd be smart enough to pick a topic that doesn't make me depressed, but no. I'm reading about the German resistance, with its optimism as frail as an eggshell... but of course, we all know how this story ends. Which makes it depressing all the more.
It just makes my life down. My day starts out well, of course, coaxed out of bed in a pleasant kind of sleepiness, and at physics, I've found that I feel at peace. A quark is a quark, and Mr. Martz has endearing quirks, and the banter is warm, friendly, casual and relaxed. School is okay, except for drawing and design where my project has ended up shittier than expected, and I'm not really up to dealing with it. And me stumbling all over my foreign language oral practice after school with Ms. Wang. It feels like I'm choking... I think in Engish; when I cease to think in English I cease to think at all, leaving my brain turning blue in the face and gasping for newer and faster thoughts as everything goes straight from my head to my mouth. And going to Fine Lines listening to the weary drone of commentary after commentary under the guise of creativity. I go, perhaps narcissically, to see what kind of response my poem will receive; I don't know if it's been commented upon already, or if it's yet to be read. And I haven't been losing any weight over the past few days. The optimistic thing about a diet is that you think perhaps you can make a permanent change for the better, and I've been daring to hope for the past week. My line of thought goes like this:
Maybe I can finally look good in a prom dress! Maybe I can flirt with people casually and not feel awkward in social situations and places with normal teenagers! Maybe I can go to Hong Kong and not feel awkward with my relatives! Maybe I can finally buy clothes that aren't 'knit shirt and blue jeans!' Maybe I can order a pretty outfit for Renfest and feel elegant and not be another 'Faire Fatass' or 'Fat Chick Who Plays D&D.' Maybe I can take acting lessons and feel confident of how I present myself on stage! Maybe I can look good in a swim suit! Maybe I can finally excel at fencing! Maybe I can finally learn how to dance! Maybe I can go jogging or biking with Malex and not slow him down! Maybe I can go to all my middle school friends now and go, hey, I've changed and you can see it. Maybe I can go to college as a new person.
Etc. And after all of that, it would seem horrible to me to just lose five pounds and then just stop. And then gain it all back again.
And above it, outside, the shrill call to arms: wielding duct tape for our windows, gas masks for our faces and canned food for god knows what, we march off to the drums of a new kind of warfare, where nobody feels the distance of a thousand miles of ocean between the Front and home anymore. Our Somme and Normandy are the walls of our own cellars. It is, as Herschel noticed, rather absurd and comical... but only if you choose to and have the strength to laugh.
I went home and collapsed into bed, not so much from lack of sleep (I went to bed at 11 last night which is good for me).
And for those of you who say that working on my IA this early will help me complete it not at the last minute: no, this is not me working early, this is very late procrastination. I am taking extensive notes on sections of both my sources (I had only been planning on taking extensive notes on my second source but found I didn't remember my first one at all well), leaving me with 400 pages (I've got 170 pages down so far) to cover by Friday night, so that I can write the actual damn paper over the weekend. The rest of you, I'm sure, are probably all done with your sources.
I am taking a mental health day tomorrow, seeing as that the Kagan quiz has been moved back to Friday. There is nothing due, not even stat homework, no tests, no quizzes.. Do not expect me; seeing as I've been expecting to see Malex for the past two days, he can wait to see me again. We're just alternating our absences; if we all take days off in shifts, we can have at least one blogbuddy at home each school day of the year, so that we're all on holiday in spirit.
The only regret I have is not walking home in Monday's wild and beautiful flurries.
Well, that was last week.
My designation of weeks is rather arbitrary; being that Tuesday, the unexpected half day, was spent all on my history IA, I have marked it as the beginning of this new dreary and hellish week, the Week of the IA stretching from Tuesday to Tuesday. You know how people say that time flies when you're having fun? This is true, but time also flies when you're stuck in a suckysucksuck-fest. Amazing, I spent seven hours reading about Hitler. That does not make life better; you'd think I'd be smart enough to pick a topic that doesn't make me depressed, but no. I'm reading about the German resistance, with its optimism as frail as an eggshell... but of course, we all know how this story ends. Which makes it depressing all the more.
It just makes my life down. My day starts out well, of course, coaxed out of bed in a pleasant kind of sleepiness, and at physics, I've found that I feel at peace. A quark is a quark, and Mr. Martz has endearing quirks, and the banter is warm, friendly, casual and relaxed. School is okay, except for drawing and design where my project has ended up shittier than expected, and I'm not really up to dealing with it. And me stumbling all over my foreign language oral practice after school with Ms. Wang. It feels like I'm choking... I think in Engish; when I cease to think in English I cease to think at all, leaving my brain turning blue in the face and gasping for newer and faster thoughts as everything goes straight from my head to my mouth. And going to Fine Lines listening to the weary drone of commentary after commentary under the guise of creativity. I go, perhaps narcissically, to see what kind of response my poem will receive; I don't know if it's been commented upon already, or if it's yet to be read. And I haven't been losing any weight over the past few days. The optimistic thing about a diet is that you think perhaps you can make a permanent change for the better, and I've been daring to hope for the past week. My line of thought goes like this:
Maybe I can finally look good in a prom dress! Maybe I can flirt with people casually and not feel awkward in social situations and places with normal teenagers! Maybe I can go to Hong Kong and not feel awkward with my relatives! Maybe I can finally buy clothes that aren't 'knit shirt and blue jeans!' Maybe I can order a pretty outfit for Renfest and feel elegant and not be another 'Faire Fatass' or 'Fat Chick Who Plays D&D.' Maybe I can take acting lessons and feel confident of how I present myself on stage! Maybe I can look good in a swim suit! Maybe I can finally excel at fencing! Maybe I can finally learn how to dance! Maybe I can go jogging or biking with Malex and not slow him down! Maybe I can go to all my middle school friends now and go, hey, I've changed and you can see it. Maybe I can go to college as a new person.
Etc. And after all of that, it would seem horrible to me to just lose five pounds and then just stop. And then gain it all back again.
And above it, outside, the shrill call to arms: wielding duct tape for our windows, gas masks for our faces and canned food for god knows what, we march off to the drums of a new kind of warfare, where nobody feels the distance of a thousand miles of ocean between the Front and home anymore. Our Somme and Normandy are the walls of our own cellars. It is, as Herschel noticed, rather absurd and comical... but only if you choose to and have the strength to laugh.
I went home and collapsed into bed, not so much from lack of sleep (I went to bed at 11 last night which is good for me).
And for those of you who say that working on my IA this early will help me complete it not at the last minute: no, this is not me working early, this is very late procrastination. I am taking extensive notes on sections of both my sources (I had only been planning on taking extensive notes on my second source but found I didn't remember my first one at all well), leaving me with 400 pages (I've got 170 pages down so far) to cover by Friday night, so that I can write the actual damn paper over the weekend. The rest of you, I'm sure, are probably all done with your sources.
I am taking a mental health day tomorrow, seeing as that the Kagan quiz has been moved back to Friday. There is nothing due, not even stat homework, no tests, no quizzes.. Do not expect me; seeing as I've been expecting to see Malex for the past two days, he can wait to see me again. We're just alternating our absences; if we all take days off in shifts, we can have at least one blogbuddy at home each school day of the year, so that we're all on holiday in spirit.
Saturday, February 08, 2003
I saw The Vikings today, a Kirk Douglas movie made in 1958. It's V. Good, if rather campy.
Shittiest Plan Ever: "Let's throw axes at the drawbridge!"
Which brings me to..
Shittiest Drawbridge ever: "The next drawbridge is stronger, my lord."
.. and characters...
Eric: I am Long Lost Heir to the Throne of England. I wear no pants.
Father Godwin: I have been shoved into unconsciousness!
(God, what a wuss)
Einar: ODIN! ODDDINNN!!!!
Lady Morgana: I'll never fuck you, you evil damsel-abducting heathen Viking! Oh, wait, I'll go and fuck that other damsel-abducting evil heathen Viking now. Goodbye.
Aella: Yes. I randomly keep a pit full of live wolves.
I honestly don't know why Aella is like this background villain. None of the main characters like him, and he's supposed to be the generic "cruel upsurper king" type, but he never actually upsurps anyone, and we never see him or hear of him doing anything particularly cruel beyond reason.
1. He takes the throne quite legally without knowledge of, or, obviously, malice towards this 'long lost heir to the throne' figure.
2. He arrests a traitor and tries to have him assassinated. Yes, the man is actually guilty.
3. He orders Ragnar tossed into a wolf pit. This being the Viking chief who murdered the former king (his cousin) and raped the queen.
4. He wants to toss Eric into the wolf pit for cutting the ropes around the Viking chief's hands and giving him a sword. C'mon! A sword!! But Morgana begs clemency and he cuts off Eric's hand instead.
Well.. okay. The whole wolf pit thing is rather incriminating. ... okay.. and the whole "I promised you clemency but now I'm going to kill you" thing. But otherwise!! I bet he's a kind and gentle man!! Poor Aella. He's so abused.
I think the impression we as the viewers are supposed to get is that he's an opportunist who doesn't have the moral scruples against killing inconvenient people, an impression we get not so much by his actions but by his general personality and other characters' impressions of him. (Such as the queen not liking him and hiding her son from him, the princess not liking him, so forth.) But never once in the movie does he do anything unambiguously evil that couldn't be explained quite logically from his point of view without even the need to resort to an irrational villainy rant. The Viking protagonists do more evil things, but they have 'hero' type personalities. It seems all a matter of perspective of who's a villain and who's not.
(The "vegetarian wolves" mentioned by the reviewer: actually... I think that they put the meat in so that the wolves would smell it and become hungry, for.. MAN-FLESH.. but wouldn't be able to eat it. After all, it's fairly pointless throwing a guy into a pit with non-hungry wolves. So it's not that they're vegetarian wolves and didn't eat the meat, but that the meat was intentionally pulled out before they could get to it.)
Is Einar a villain?? He's actually pretty likable, for being a scarred, monovision, axe-throwing wannabe rapist. IMHO, he's a lot worse than Aella but he's made out to be this.... if not hero.. this big protagonist character.
What about Ragnar? He's like the Jabba the Hutt of the Fjords who kills and rapes people.
BTW: Morgana (Janet Leigh) is pretty hot for a 50's chick.
Shittiest Plan Ever: "Let's throw axes at the drawbridge!"
Which brings me to..
Shittiest Drawbridge ever: "The next drawbridge is stronger, my lord."
.. and characters...
Eric: I am Long Lost Heir to the Throne of England. I wear no pants.
Father Godwin: I have been shoved into unconsciousness!
(God, what a wuss)
Einar: ODIN! ODDDINNN!!!!
Lady Morgana: I'll never fuck you, you evil damsel-abducting heathen Viking! Oh, wait, I'll go and fuck that other damsel-abducting evil heathen Viking now. Goodbye.
Aella: Yes. I randomly keep a pit full of live wolves.
I honestly don't know why Aella is like this background villain. None of the main characters like him, and he's supposed to be the generic "cruel upsurper king" type, but he never actually upsurps anyone, and we never see him or hear of him doing anything particularly cruel beyond reason.
1. He takes the throne quite legally without knowledge of, or, obviously, malice towards this 'long lost heir to the throne' figure.
2. He arrests a traitor and tries to have him assassinated. Yes, the man is actually guilty.
3. He orders Ragnar tossed into a wolf pit. This being the Viking chief who murdered the former king (his cousin) and raped the queen.
4. He wants to toss Eric into the wolf pit for cutting the ropes around the Viking chief's hands and giving him a sword. C'mon! A sword!! But Morgana begs clemency and he cuts off Eric's hand instead.
Well.. okay. The whole wolf pit thing is rather incriminating. ... okay.. and the whole "I promised you clemency but now I'm going to kill you" thing. But otherwise!! I bet he's a kind and gentle man!! Poor Aella. He's so abused.
I think the impression we as the viewers are supposed to get is that he's an opportunist who doesn't have the moral scruples against killing inconvenient people, an impression we get not so much by his actions but by his general personality and other characters' impressions of him. (Such as the queen not liking him and hiding her son from him, the princess not liking him, so forth.) But never once in the movie does he do anything unambiguously evil that couldn't be explained quite logically from his point of view without even the need to resort to an irrational villainy rant. The Viking protagonists do more evil things, but they have 'hero' type personalities. It seems all a matter of perspective of who's a villain and who's not.
(The "vegetarian wolves" mentioned by the reviewer: actually... I think that they put the meat in so that the wolves would smell it and become hungry, for.. MAN-FLESH.. but wouldn't be able to eat it. After all, it's fairly pointless throwing a guy into a pit with non-hungry wolves. So it's not that they're vegetarian wolves and didn't eat the meat, but that the meat was intentionally pulled out before they could get to it.)
Is Einar a villain?? He's actually pretty likable, for being a scarred, monovision, axe-throwing wannabe rapist. IMHO, he's a lot worse than Aella but he's made out to be this.... if not hero.. this big protagonist character.
What about Ragnar? He's like the Jabba the Hutt of the Fjords who kills and rapes people.
BTW: Morgana (Janet Leigh) is pretty hot for a 50's chick.
Friday, February 07, 2003
Hurray for snow! The world is magical again! I made a snow angel, the first successful one I've made without ruining, in my life. The world looks like it's covered in a warm fleece blanket, and the snow sparkles like mica and crystalline dust flies in my face.
In unrelated news, I got a haircut.
All of them.
In more unrelated news, The Grand Flaming Marshmallow Balrog Contest.
In unrelated news, I got a haircut.
All of them.
In more unrelated news, The Grand Flaming Marshmallow Balrog Contest.
My Diet Blog now has a commenting system. Yes, another blog for you to read and comment on. For some of you, I suspect it may be more interesting than my actual blog.
Thursday, February 06, 2003
Janay, the girl in art, after days of being fairly silent, finally opened up when a boy came to sit at the table next to us (Shirley was absent and he took her seat.) Apparently this girl has:
1. Been pregnant multiple times and sneaked out of the house to get abortions ("It's just a pill. It doesn't hurt at all. It gross though.")
2.Taken drugs to avoid pain during the abortion.
3. Is engaged to a boyfriend of three years who is currently encarcerated.
4. Had sex with another guy while said boyfriend of three years is being encarcerated.
5. Challenged another girl to a fight and punched her in the face.
We live in two totally different worlds. What am I supposed to chat with her about? Movies? Music?
None of this is my business, except that she also wants me to draw part of her art project for her, which I politely declined to do, telling her she'd probably feel prouder of her own artwork.
I suppose she could be playing with my head, but assuming she's telling the truth. I didn't say this to her but I'll say it here: 1. Get pregnant once, it's a mistake. Do it multiple times, it's stupidity, and horrendously cruel stupidity in the cost of unborn babies. (I don't think abortion is the same as murder, but it is something rather horrific that shouldn't be done unless absolutely necessary. This.. is just caprice.) 3. Marrying a criminal is also stupidity.. I don't even understand this, because if you were stupid enough to be idealistically in love with him, why did you (4) cheat on him? Little Miss Negress, this does not reflect very well on your race. Now, I know that the logical thing to say here is that the actions of the individual reflect only on that individual and not an entire group which is arbitrarily decided by skin pigmentation in the first place. However, seeing as this is the only member of this certain race I actually come in contact with on a regular basis and therefore this member presents 100% of my contact with black people (maybe less if you count my contacts online, but that's silly), my inner racist, (who exists along with my inner bitch, my inner homophobe, my inner xenophobe, my inner imperialistic capitalistic pig, my inner communist, and my inner religious fundamentalist) is muttering about the downfall of western civilization and worse.
This also begs the question: How White/Fake Am I? I know I do live in a plastic bubble, which is rather pleasant, actually. I don't particularly dislike being a Twinkie but I dislike the label; as if I'm being two-faced or hypocritical about something. I don't see why I ought to owe any loyalties to The People's Republic Of China (*chingchongchingchong*) or some strange sense of bloodlines that crosses oceans but I don't want to feel as if I'm neglecting what my parents taught me.
Another interesting note: I had a dream once (not recently) that segregation was reinstated. I remember that the thing I was personally most upset about was being seperated from all my friends and being rather indignant about one thing: "What???!! How the hell am I colored??? Look! My skin is light!" This, in my dream, did not convince anybody. I don't think I gave a damn in the dream about black people in segregation, or even the fact that segregation was reinstated. Tres weird.
1. Been pregnant multiple times and sneaked out of the house to get abortions ("It's just a pill. It doesn't hurt at all. It gross though.")
2.Taken drugs to avoid pain during the abortion.
3. Is engaged to a boyfriend of three years who is currently encarcerated.
4. Had sex with another guy while said boyfriend of three years is being encarcerated.
5. Challenged another girl to a fight and punched her in the face.
We live in two totally different worlds. What am I supposed to chat with her about? Movies? Music?
None of this is my business, except that she also wants me to draw part of her art project for her, which I politely declined to do, telling her she'd probably feel prouder of her own artwork.
I suppose she could be playing with my head, but assuming she's telling the truth. I didn't say this to her but I'll say it here: 1. Get pregnant once, it's a mistake. Do it multiple times, it's stupidity, and horrendously cruel stupidity in the cost of unborn babies. (I don't think abortion is the same as murder, but it is something rather horrific that shouldn't be done unless absolutely necessary. This.. is just caprice.) 3. Marrying a criminal is also stupidity.. I don't even understand this, because if you were stupid enough to be idealistically in love with him, why did you (4) cheat on him? Little Miss Negress, this does not reflect very well on your race. Now, I know that the logical thing to say here is that the actions of the individual reflect only on that individual and not an entire group which is arbitrarily decided by skin pigmentation in the first place. However, seeing as this is the only member of this certain race I actually come in contact with on a regular basis and therefore this member presents 100% of my contact with black people (maybe less if you count my contacts online, but that's silly), my inner racist, (who exists along with my inner bitch, my inner homophobe, my inner xenophobe, my inner imperialistic capitalistic pig, my inner communist, and my inner religious fundamentalist) is muttering about the downfall of western civilization and worse.
This also begs the question: How White/Fake Am I? I know I do live in a plastic bubble, which is rather pleasant, actually. I don't particularly dislike being a Twinkie but I dislike the label; as if I'm being two-faced or hypocritical about something. I don't see why I ought to owe any loyalties to The People's Republic Of China (*chingchongchingchong*) or some strange sense of bloodlines that crosses oceans but I don't want to feel as if I'm neglecting what my parents taught me.
Another interesting note: I had a dream once (not recently) that segregation was reinstated. I remember that the thing I was personally most upset about was being seperated from all my friends and being rather indignant about one thing: "What???!! How the hell am I colored??? Look! My skin is light!" This, in my dream, did not convince anybody. I don't think I gave a damn in the dream about black people in segregation, or even the fact that segregation was reinstated. Tres weird.
Went to Rockville Library this afternoon to pay my overdue fines (I swear, I give no money to charity but I end up giving tons to the Montgomery County libraries) and renew "Glory Season" by David Brin. V. Good so far- infinitely superior to Terry Goodkind. Don't know why I waste my time on him. I could renew online, but it's somehow more satisfying for me to see them stamp the new date in shiny black ink on that long white sticker in the back.
Also: Madrigals auditions are tomorrow. Do not think I will, because Frezzo said that most likely lunch bunchers only won't make it unless we'd had previous class experience or unless we were phenomenal sight readers. I'm very probably the worst aural sight reader in the class. I can only sing what I can hum, I can only sing on key if I can hear my own voice, even if it's the same note over and over again, something as simple as quarter eighth quarter eigth quarter eigth. And of course, I can't give myself a starting note. When I told Frezzo I could sight read, I meant with instruments. I know where to hit the keyboard on a piano when I see the note for 'A.' I don't quite understand how he took this to mean I could somehow sing.
Also: Madrigals auditions are tomorrow. Do not think I will, because Frezzo said that most likely lunch bunchers only won't make it unless we'd had previous class experience or unless we were phenomenal sight readers. I'm very probably the worst aural sight reader in the class. I can only sing what I can hum, I can only sing on key if I can hear my own voice, even if it's the same note over and over again, something as simple as quarter eighth quarter eigth quarter eigth. And of course, I can't give myself a starting note. When I told Frezzo I could sight read, I meant with instruments. I know where to hit the keyboard on a piano when I see the note for 'A.' I don't quite understand how he took this to mean I could somehow sing.
I'm starting up my diet blog again because I'm on Atkins (have been for the last three days). Hurrah for me.
List of things I'm not allowed to eat:
Caffeine
Bread
Rice
Noodles
Fried stuff
Fruit
Dessert
Yep! It's no carbohydrates and no sugar!
List of things I can eat:
Vegetables
Meat
Dairy Products
Yay skippy. Don't try to sell me chocolate.
List of things I'm not allowed to eat:
Caffeine
Bread
Rice
Noodles
Fried stuff
Fruit
Dessert
Yep! It's no carbohydrates and no sugar!
List of things I can eat:
Vegetables
Meat
Dairy Products
Yay skippy. Don't try to sell me chocolate.
Sunday, February 02, 2003
Anyway, now that's over with. (For my loyal readers I suppose it's yet to come. You must remember that what I post the earliest you read the latest and what I post the latest you read the earliest. So scroll down. )
I woke up at 6:40 in the morning from a dream that my mother and grandmother were screaming at me. Despite not sleeping well I was glad to be awake.
My oral went well, I think, at least for having gotten the Virginia Woolf passage on.. fishing for ideas, that extended metaphor. I was the first to go and Ms. Barret said it was a good way to start her day. However, I don't know if I actually did well, since Ms. Barret is on the whole a kind and encouraging personality independent of actual performance. When I left Alex had arrived and I arranged to have him give me a ride to Fatal Valentine since my parents would be leaving the house at 5 pm to go to a dinner party for New Year's. He agreed to pick me up at 7:30. I went to IHOP afterwards with my mom, where she told me that since they were leaving at 5 I'd have to make dinner by myself and I told her don't worry it's not like I'd starve. And later on to Best Buy where I bumped into Nick (B). He asked me if I heard about the space shuttle and I said, "It exploded?" as a joke kind of (I have come to expect the worst possible news of everything so that nothing surprises me, but on the downside it has me making rather tactless comments). I did not believe that it had honestly exploded. ("You lost a shuttle? Where did you last put it?") We listened to the news on a Best Buy radio. As it turned out, my ghastly initial intuition was correct. Nick bought a CD player.
I went home, watched the news, and stopped after the NASA press conference because there was really nothing that I felt like I had any right or need to know. An hour's worth of repetition of, "We're very saddened and are doing our best to investigate it" which was as much as any person could really be expected to do, besides wait for tomorrow. It seemed that to keep the tv on to watch people talking in low sad tones and look at endless parades of photographs would be needlessly sensationalistic.
I read some Rosencranz and Guildenstern and got annoyed because it was confusing, actually finding the lines taken directly from Hamlet to be more comprehensible. I read some Romeo and Juliet without footnotes and discovered that Shakespeare is indeed more understandable than Tom Stoppard, explanatory notes or no. I read the comics. They weren't funny, not even Prince Valiant. I took a nap, waking up intermittantly to my alarm clock buzzing. I saw the time as 5:44 and frantically smacked the alarm clock off, thinking I'd be waking my parents too early in the morning for them to drive me to school. It was actually late afternoon on Saturday.
I woke up at 7:40 in the evening to the doorbell ringing. It was Alex waiting with The Van and I spontaneously changed out of my pajamas, yelled at him that I was coming, combed my hair, stuffed $20 in my empty wallet and pocketed it, put my feet in my boots without socks, grabbed the house keys, and sprinted into the van. Alex told me that duh I wasn't supposed to get in on the driver's side. I jumped on shotgun and put on my socks. I had forgotten my cell phone at home. We rushed off to pick up Valex at Woodmont Park. We did, but not Silvia, because she "didn't ask." We got to RM at 8-ish and bought tickets and went in. It was a funny play for being a running gag wherein the actors did not enunciate, but nonetheless it was very exciting and hilarious and of course, interactive. I went around at intermission asking "romance writers" for their autographs and Malex went around hitting on the male leads. I ate some cake and that was my dinner. We went back in. We voted Martha the murderer. I heard last performance it was Flick.
Malex drove me home where there was a message on the answering machine from my mom from earlier in the evening wondering why the alarm clock hadn't woken me up and shouldn't I be awake eating dinner by now?
SNL was a rerun, but I watched it to avoid the news.
I woke up at 6:40 in the morning from a dream that my mother and grandmother were screaming at me. Despite not sleeping well I was glad to be awake.
My oral went well, I think, at least for having gotten the Virginia Woolf passage on.. fishing for ideas, that extended metaphor. I was the first to go and Ms. Barret said it was a good way to start her day. However, I don't know if I actually did well, since Ms. Barret is on the whole a kind and encouraging personality independent of actual performance. When I left Alex had arrived and I arranged to have him give me a ride to Fatal Valentine since my parents would be leaving the house at 5 pm to go to a dinner party for New Year's. He agreed to pick me up at 7:30. I went to IHOP afterwards with my mom, where she told me that since they were leaving at 5 I'd have to make dinner by myself and I told her don't worry it's not like I'd starve. And later on to Best Buy where I bumped into Nick (B). He asked me if I heard about the space shuttle and I said, "It exploded?" as a joke kind of (I have come to expect the worst possible news of everything so that nothing surprises me, but on the downside it has me making rather tactless comments). I did not believe that it had honestly exploded. ("You lost a shuttle? Where did you last put it?") We listened to the news on a Best Buy radio. As it turned out, my ghastly initial intuition was correct. Nick bought a CD player.
I went home, watched the news, and stopped after the NASA press conference because there was really nothing that I felt like I had any right or need to know. An hour's worth of repetition of, "We're very saddened and are doing our best to investigate it" which was as much as any person could really be expected to do, besides wait for tomorrow. It seemed that to keep the tv on to watch people talking in low sad tones and look at endless parades of photographs would be needlessly sensationalistic.
I read some Rosencranz and Guildenstern and got annoyed because it was confusing, actually finding the lines taken directly from Hamlet to be more comprehensible. I read some Romeo and Juliet without footnotes and discovered that Shakespeare is indeed more understandable than Tom Stoppard, explanatory notes or no. I read the comics. They weren't funny, not even Prince Valiant. I took a nap, waking up intermittantly to my alarm clock buzzing. I saw the time as 5:44 and frantically smacked the alarm clock off, thinking I'd be waking my parents too early in the morning for them to drive me to school. It was actually late afternoon on Saturday.
I woke up at 7:40 in the evening to the doorbell ringing. It was Alex waiting with The Van and I spontaneously changed out of my pajamas, yelled at him that I was coming, combed my hair, stuffed $20 in my empty wallet and pocketed it, put my feet in my boots without socks, grabbed the house keys, and sprinted into the van. Alex told me that duh I wasn't supposed to get in on the driver's side. I jumped on shotgun and put on my socks. I had forgotten my cell phone at home. We rushed off to pick up Valex at Woodmont Park. We did, but not Silvia, because she "didn't ask." We got to RM at 8-ish and bought tickets and went in. It was a funny play for being a running gag wherein the actors did not enunciate, but nonetheless it was very exciting and hilarious and of course, interactive. I went around at intermission asking "romance writers" for their autographs and Malex went around hitting on the male leads. I ate some cake and that was my dinner. We went back in. We voted Martha the murderer. I heard last performance it was Flick.
Malex drove me home where there was a message on the answering machine from my mom from earlier in the evening wondering why the alarm clock hadn't woken me up and shouldn't I be awake eating dinner by now?
SNL was a rerun, but I watched it to avoid the news.
Obligatory Space Shuttle Columbia Post:
What a way to die. I wonder if it hurts to die, and how painful it must be being burned alive and ripped apart. I wonder if when people die they go to heaven instantaneously. I wonder what it must be like to die like a meteor, like a falling star, so brightly and so violently, but if it in the end would not be a way I would choose to go.
I think they will say later that the Year of the Ram was ushered in with smoke and flame and the explosion of fireworks.
Also: I am so sick of National Tragedies, but the ones I have are not anything like those of the previous generation, or the one before that. This 20th century is a string of national tragedies, stretching on into the 21st. As it were, I did not know anyone, and feel like letting those who will mourn mourn. Personal tragedies will remain deeply personal and perhaps the rather whorish title of National Tragedy and the media orgy that comes with it ought to be reserved for other things.
(/End Obligatory Space Shuttle Columbia Post)
What a way to die. I wonder if it hurts to die, and how painful it must be being burned alive and ripped apart. I wonder if when people die they go to heaven instantaneously. I wonder what it must be like to die like a meteor, like a falling star, so brightly and so violently, but if it in the end would not be a way I would choose to go.
I think they will say later that the Year of the Ram was ushered in with smoke and flame and the explosion of fireworks.
Also: I am so sick of National Tragedies, but the ones I have are not anything like those of the previous generation, or the one before that. This 20th century is a string of national tragedies, stretching on into the 21st. As it were, I did not know anyone, and feel like letting those who will mourn mourn. Personal tragedies will remain deeply personal and perhaps the rather whorish title of National Tragedy and the media orgy that comes with it ought to be reserved for other things.
(/End Obligatory Space Shuttle Columbia Post)
Thursday, January 30, 2003
I won't be able to watch My Fatal Valentine due to English Orals very early on Saturday morning and a Chinese New Year celebration Saturday night. My mom won't let me go on the night before my "really important" (right) orals and she won't let me back out of the dinner party. Bleck. Let's hope it snows.
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
My schedule is all right, I guess. I am no longer capable of feeling overjoyed or disappointed, though today was nice in that it was that First Day of School feeling we never got to have on the actual first day of school. The actual first day of school was just like a resumption of junior year. Nice having physics with Malex and Andrew and Rob and Christine. Don't know why she bothered with our group, but she's sitting next to us so she's here to stay. Strangely enough, it seemed like she was always with Dena and Sharon in middle school (perhaps just for school stuff), but there's a lot less of that now. And English with Rob. Have English with Ms. Shay... she seems okay?
Anyhow, it's nice to see Rob again, after seeing him all the time last year in history and psychology and then never seeing him last semester.
Nick is being distant, and I'm not even dating him.
I have no friends in Drawing and Design... I don't even know anyone there, not even distantly. I've tried to break the ice with Shirley, the Peruvian girl sitting at my table, but I don't think we have very much in common. But at least we know each other's names and we're basically conversational; she doesn't know anyone else there either. Neither does Janet (pronounced Janay, God knows how it's spelled), the third girl at our table, but she's less social. Nonetheless, it sounds like a fun class and I hope to make projects I'll be proud of. Damn, I'm sounding like an enthusiastic suckup art student. We're doing more than shading, shading, and more shading as Malex insinuated, probably because this is second semester D&D.
Anyhow, it's nice to see Rob again, after seeing him all the time last year in history and psychology and then never seeing him last semester.
Nick is being distant, and I'm not even dating him.
I have no friends in Drawing and Design... I don't even know anyone there, not even distantly. I've tried to break the ice with Shirley, the Peruvian girl sitting at my table, but I don't think we have very much in common. But at least we know each other's names and we're basically conversational; she doesn't know anyone else there either. Neither does Janet (pronounced Janay, God knows how it's spelled), the third girl at our table, but she's less social. Nonetheless, it sounds like a fun class and I hope to make projects I'll be proud of. Damn, I'm sounding like an enthusiastic suckup art student. We're doing more than shading, shading, and more shading as Malex insinuated, probably because this is second semester D&D.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)