post the twenty-fourth

My Japanese class was cancelled today, unexpectedly, leaving me with an hour between classes to burn. I was planning on getting my hair cut after classes were done, but since I had this extra hour, I decided to go ahead and get it done then.

I rather enjoy having my hair cut. It's nice to have it short again after it being uncomfortably long. The only thing I don't enjoy about the haircut is the obligatory small talk you have to endure. I'm the sort of person who would just as soon sit in polite silence and let the hairdresser (or whatever you might call them) cut my hair, cooperating whenever necessary. I doubt she really cares where I'm from, how long I've been going to school here, what I'm studying, and so forth. I'm sure she's a wonderful person, and I have nothing against her, but I just don't see the point of small talk.

This is probably just the practical side of me rearing its head. It doesn't come out all that often. I just thought I'd share with everyone how I think small talk is pointless.

And I wanted to announce to everyone that I got a haircut. Adore me.

- Optimistic.

post the twenty-third

So there I was, sitting in front of a computer at the library, when a thought struck me.

"You need to go to the bathroom," the thought said.

Not one to disobey a thought such as that, I dutifully headed toward the bathroom. I walked inside, chose a stall, shut it carefully behind me, and stood there.

I was absolutely dumbfounded. I couldn't remember what to do next. I knew I needed to go to the bathroom, but I couldn't remember the steps involved in the process. I won't go into any graphic detail here, because no one wants to read about that, but all I could remember were generalities, such as sitting down and the removal of various articles of clothing.

I figured it out quickly enough, but the fact that I couldn't remember how to relieve myself was a bit disconcerting.

The image I've posted along with this entry really has nothing to do with the story; it's merely the sort of image I conjure up in my mind when I don't know what's going on. I picture confusion and bewilderment as a gray sort of feeling.

- Optimistic.

post the twenty-second

At the behest of a friend, today I will write a short treatise on the glitter girl.

This is a term applied to something that I don't think has it's own term, but could certainly use one. I picture the glitter girl as the girl in the picture right here. She's really pretty. However, she's quite aware that she's very attractive. Look at that sultry look in her eyes. She knows she's hot and that you want her. I generally don't go for the glitter girl myself. I have a distinction between hot and cute. Glitter girls are hot, without fail. Hot girls, like I said earlier, know that they are attractive. They use this fact to their advantage. I imagine everyone reading this knows someone like this. Hot girls generally seem to go for hot boys, which I am not. I haven't tried to pursue a hot girl since I was a freshman, and that didn't go so well. I learned my lesson quickly.

Cute girls, on the other hand, aren't always aware that they're good looking. Cute, in my mind, is more of a state of mind than physical appearance. I vastly prefer the cute girl. In fact, the only girls that I've ever dated have been cute girls. They're just more fun to be around. It seems to me, at least, that the hot girl likes to keep things all about herself. She expects you to tell her how beautiful she is. She expects you to buy her things. With the cute girl, things like that, while you ought to do them, make her genuinely happy.

I dunno, I had a good idea when I started all of this, but my thoughts are becoming increasingly scattered. The point is that I'm not a hot boy, and thus hot girls just aren't in the cards for me. I'm okay with that. I shall strive to be cute and earn a cute girl in return.

If anyone knows where she's at, I'd appreciate it if you'd send her my way. Thanks.

- Optimistic.

post the twenty-first

So I heard a really cool poem today, and I thought I'd share it with anyone else who appreciates good poetry.

実るほど
頭を垂れる
稲穂かな

Isn't that just wonderful? I love haiku. I understand the vast majority of you won't speak Japanese, so I'll go ahead and provide a transliteration for you, as well as a translation.

minoru hodo
kobe o tareru
inaho kana

As the stalk of rice
Becomes more full, it lowers
Its head to the ground.

I just came up with that translation, and I'm pretty pleased with it. Basically, the poem says that those who have more should, by nature, be more humble. As you're given more, you lower yourself to the ground rather than holding yourself above everyone else.

Pretty neat, huh?

- Optimistic.

post the twentieth

I can't say that I have anything particularly on my mind right now, but it's been a little while since I've posted here (okay, five days, not that long), so I thought I'd check in.

Hello, everyone.

I like to spell correctly when I type, as well as adhering to grammatical and punctuation rules. It doesn't matter which forum I'm in. I insist on expressing myself properly. I refuse to type in all lower case letters. I must spell everything correctly. "thx" is not a word, no matter how often it is used.

I will NOT engage in 1337 5p33k. It's just not going to happen, sorry.

I suppose I just like the way words look when you use them properly. It makes me feel that much smarter. You might say that it's a pride issue. Feel free to think what you will. I just like typing properly.

And now, a random picture of some clam juice.



- Optimistic.

post the nineteenth, i think

I can't remember what number I'm on anymore. I'll just assume that this is indeed my nineteenth post.

I was listening to a new CD on my way up to campus just now - Fisherman's Woman, by Emiliana Torrini. It's really really good; at least as good as her first one, if you're familiar with her at all. The only thing about it is that it's extremely mellow. The CD ought to come with a label on the front reading something along the lines of "WARNING: DO NOT LISTEN TO THIS COMPACT DISC WHILE OPERATING HEAVY MACHINERY." It's that mellow, no joke. Not that I had anything in particular on my mind, but if I had, I think it would have just melted away as I was listening to the music. I just felt completely tranquil. It was marvelous. The only other music I have that can do that to me is my Flood CD by They Might Be Giants, but that calms me down for a completely different reason.

If any of you out there have a need to calm down, or even if you just want to listen to some good music, I highly recommend this one. It might be a little tricky to track down, but I'm sure you'll be able to manage.

I would still be listening to it right now, but as I'm sitting in the student center here, it's really noisy, which creates a backdrop that clashes with the fine sounds of Ms. Torrini. Shame, really.

- Optimistic.

post the eighteenth

Last night, some old friends of mine invited me over for dinner. I had to work until 7:30 or so, but I got over there in time for some pumpkin pie. We ended up sitting around talking about music - we're all from upstate New York and listened to the same radio station in high school (WBER 90.5 FM, if you're interested), so we all share similar tastes. After that for a while, we played some word games, watched parts of Anchorman, and just enjoyed one another's company. I tell you what, it was really nice. I felt completely relaxed around these people. I've known them for years, so I didn't have to worry about impressing them or making sure that they wouldn't laugh at me. It's a nice feeling, and one that I don't always feel around people. For whatever reason, I'm always terrified that people I talk to are going to think that I'm stupid and will think less of me. I fret about coming off wrong, especially since I always seem to. If I act like myself around people that I don't know especially well, they always seem to give me a weird look and then quickly change the subject. I don't know why that is. It makes me a little uncomfortable, though, so I put on my fake personality and hope to survive the encounter.

Goodness, that turned out a little darker than I'd intended it to. I just meant to say that I really enjoyed having a music party with my friends last night. I imagine one or more of them will read this, too, so hello. Thanks for the pie, it was wonderful.

- Optimistic.

post the seventeenth

For those of you who are interested, feel free to check out the application to be the future Mrs. Optimistic.

- Optimistic.

post the sixteenth

Sooner or later, I'm going to get sick of numbering my posts and will have to come up with some alternate means of titling them. I plan on solving this problem by ignoring it for the time being and hoping that it never comes up in the future. This is, of course, how I solve all of my problems.

I dunno, life is good. I went up to campus to meet a friend yesterday, and even thouh she wasn't there, I ended up seeing six or seven people that I normally wouldn't have seen while looking for her. That was pretty cool.

I came home and there were four Lemony Snicket books waiting for me, bringing my grand total up to ten, not including the copy that has yet to return to me.

I got to eat chili.

Life is good, I think. I suppose bad things happen every once in a while, but there seems to be more than enough good things to balance them out.

Wow, that wasn't at all what I'd intended on writing when I started this. It turned out far more cheerful and hopeful than I thought it would. Maybe I should attach a picture of a happy smiling sun or something.