post the thirty-fourth

We had a fun family bonding experience today. My younger brother had a stereo that he had mostly destroyed - the speakers didn't work, and he had taken off the top and sides so he could put in and take out CDs easier. It looked awful. He ended up getting a pretty cool new one for Christmas, so we were left with the problem of what to do with the old one. Most people would just throw it out or something, but not us.

We had a similar problem to this a few years ago. We got a new toaster for Christmas, and we needed to get rid of our old one. We were sitting around after having opened our presents, and my younger brother (the same one that woke everyone up this year) suggested smashing it on the street outside. All of the kids thought this was a tremendous idea, and my dad (typically) agreed with us. We looked expectantly at Mom, expecting her to shoot down the idea with reason. However, she looked as excited as anyone else and said, "I'll get my camera!" We now have a series of wonderful pictures of us kids throwing a toaster in the air and watching it smash on the street just outside our house.

Flash forward several years.

Now that we had the carcass of an old stereo on our hands, we knew the only sensible course of action. We took the stereo out into the street, took the requisite pictures (none of which I can get to upload, regrettably), and proceeded to hurl it as far as we could in the air. It made a pretty respectable explosion, too. The second attempt was even better than the first, although cleanup was a bit more time consuming.

I really wish I could get these pictures to upload. It only feels like half a story without the pictures. For now, just try to imagine them. It will give you a keen insight into my life and why I act the way I do to know that mine is a family that gets rid of old appliances by smashing them in the street when we're done with them.

post the thirty-third

I've been home for a little more than a week now, and I'm finally realizing how much I simultaneously like and dislike being home over break.

Wow, that wasn't what I'd intended to talk about. Let's go with this thought for a little bit, though.

I really do like being home. Christmas yesterday was one of the finest Christmases of my life. Not only did everyone get everything they wanted (except possibly for me not getting the Gorillaz' Demon Days - sadness), but the things that we got were clever and useful. I now have copies of both Boggle and Scrabble that I'm excited to get some use out of when I return to school. We all genuinely enjoyed one another's company. I haven't had so much fun with my family in years, I don't think. We've gone all over town and just had fun with each other over the last few days. I like being home.

There are, of course, obvious reasons to not enjoy being at home, though. My younger brother was a little impatient on Christmas morning. He woke up at 4:00 and couldn't go back to sleep for excitement; at 6:00, he decided he couldn't take it anymore and decided to wake everyone else by playing Flogging Molly as loud as he could. This caused my youngest brother to respond by bellowing, "Ho ho homicide," which aptly summed up what the rest of us were feeling. He shut up for then, but came back with a vengeance around 7:00, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Wake up! It's Christmas! WHY AREN'T WE OPENING PRESENTS?!"

For reference, he's 17.

That in and of itself isn't enough to convince me that being at home isn't all it's cracked up to be. I love being with my family - really, I do - but the fact that I just don't know anyone my age here other than my sister is a little rough. I moved to Portland when I was starting my senior year in high school (oh, that was fun), so I only really had one year to get to know people here. Most everyone I got to know during that year has either moved away, gotten married, eloped and vanished, or gone insane. (I am not exaggerating in the slightest. I got to know an interesting group of people.) Now, when I come home, I spend time with my family and no one else. There's really no one else to hang out with. It's fun for a while, but it gets old pretty quick. I love being at school so I can be with people that I can relate to. That's probably what I miss most about being at school - all the good friends that I have. Yes, I miss you all, unless you're one of the people who happened to stumble on my blog and doesn't really know me, in which case I probably don't miss you all that much.

Don't worry, though. Life is still good. I'm happy. I like being home. And I'm excited to go back and get my life moving again.

post the thirty-second

Merry Christmas, all. I hope it's snowing where you are. I like snow.

post the thirty-first

Here I am, back at home, dear readers. It's taken a bit more time to adjust to the new environment this time around than it has in the past. I wonder if that's just because I'm so much more different now than I have been before. I feel like I talk much more pretentiously than I used to. I feel like I purposely use big words so I'll sound smarter. Granted, I enjoy the way those sort of words sound. Still, it sounds like I'm trying to sound smart. My family just doesn't talk that way. I feel different.

We had another family over tonight for a family home evening together. It was a lot of fun - we played some games, ate some pizza, and I got to show off my feeble yo-yo skills for a couple of twelve-year-olds. It was a success for all involved. However, I felt like any time I tried to be funny (or, rather, witty), everything I said went over my brothers' and the aforementioned twelve-year-olds' heads. I quickly resigned myself to talking about computer games and farting. I fit in real quick, but I'm realizing really quick how much I miss being around people at my level. Being at college is a good thing.

Then again, maybe being away from all of that is good for me. Maybe this is what I need to get me off of my precious high horse and remind myself that I'm not, after all, the center of this or any other universe. And then again, maybe it's just too late, and nothing I'm thinking is really that important. Late night thoughts tend to be the ones that you're better off ignoring. So it goes.

Hopefully you're all feeling good now that you're at home, unless you were already at home, in which case I hope you're enjoying yourself just the same, unless you never actually made it home, in which case I hope things are turning out for you wherever you are.

post the thirtieth

You want to hear something funny?

Shut up, of course you do. I don't need any sass from you.

All of my roommates left by Friday evening, leaving me to fend for myself for a weekend. This happens more often than you might think, actually. I was here alone for all of the Thanksgiving break as well. I find myself alone a fair amount. I was a little worried in the days leading up to this because I knew that I wouldn't have anything to do, and the last time that happened to me, I stayed up until 3:00 AM for days on end playing Monkey Island™. It's an awesome game, but playing that while not speaking to other human beings taxed my sanity a bit. I was afraid the same thing was going to happen to me again for the few days I'd be here by myself, a problem made worse by the fact that I've already beaten Monkey Island™.


Fortunately, things turned out for the best. Petra offered to take me to hang out with some of her friends on Friday night. It turned out to be way more fun than spending an evening sitting in front of my computer would have been. Saturday was just as good. I actually hadn't planned on leaving my apartment that day. I even wore horribly clashing clothes to emphasize my decision. However, Lavish offered to make tacos and Uffish offered her house for the watching of Waking Ned Divine, which is a fabulous movie that I would recommend everyone watch if you haven't already, or even if you have. I'd forgotten how much I loved that movie.

The point I'm trying to make here is that having friends rocks. Even if I'm trying to spend a day alone hiding from the world people come and drag me out and make me enjoy life. This is a good thing.

Life is good, dear readers. Enjoy it while it's here.

post the twenty-ninth

I generally don't take requests for blog posts, but since I promised to write this one, I'm going for it.

As a preface for this question, I'm going to insist that you read Board Question #21534. None of this will make much sense if you don't. If you aren't yet a reader of the 100 Hour Board, this would be an excellent time to start.

So Petra and I were setting up for the first picture of the night. As you can see, we had to wear bags over our heads to preserve our identities. However, there weren't any holes in the bags, so seeing was somewhat difficult. We were standing in front of the silver tree holder in the background, facing one another and searching for one another's hands so we could hold them for the shot. Picture me now with my hands outstretched, searching for Petra's hands. I kept feeling around until I found...well...not her hands.

Yes, that's right, I ended up getting a handful of Petra's chest. What a way to start off the evening. It was probably the most hilarious way we could have started the best question we've ever been asked.

Alright everyone, resume your normal lives.

post the twenty-eighth

I was sitting in my Japanese final today when we (the class, not myself and my other personalities) heard an unearthly roar from outside. Someone was out in the hall and letting fly with the loudest vomit I've heard in some time. It sounded like he was sort of yelling at the same time, so it was clearly audible throughout the building. Our door was open, so we had no trouble hearing him. I checked the hall and the trash cans for signs of a struggle (as it were) after the test, but didn't find anything. I guess that means he was in the bathroom, which makes it that much more impressive that we could hear him so clearly through the closed doors.

It's a stressful season, dear readers. Be sure to study, but don't burn yourself out. Take care of yourselves.

post the twenty-seventh

As is true of most college campuses, it is finals time here, which means tens of thousands of students are frantically putting off studying. I'm right there with everyone else. It took me three days to come up with a workable thesis for the paper I'm crafting. I went through a couple of conspiracy theories until I came up with something a bit tamer and based in fact. It looks pretty promising to me. I've successfully written two pages and five or six footnotes. As we all know, the best measure for the excellence of a paper is the amount of footnotes in it. In fact, maybe I should just start footnoting every single word that I type. I'm sure that would help the readability of it.

Anyhow, best of luck to everyone. Most people that read this blog are college students, I assume, so this will be appreciated. For those of you that aren't college students, feel free to look back on, or forward to, your days in college and those wonderful times you had putting off studying for exams.

I'm making fries and tomato soup, too. Breakfast was four chocolate chip cookies. I love being an irresponsible young adult.

post the twenty-sixth

I have a paper that's due in two days and another one due a week after that. This is a time for action; a time to stand up and do what it takes to get the things done that need to be done.

Think I'll re-learn how to solve the Rubik's Cube.

post the twenty-fifth

Around 12:30 or so, my roommate announced that he was going to go to sleep, and would it be alright if he were to turn off the light. I've no problem with sitting in a darkened room in front of a computer for hours on end, so I said that would be fine.

I was enjoying myself while surfing on the Internet when I heard some explosive flatulence from my roommate. Not only was it loud and pronounced, but it lasted for a while too. We're talking in excess of five seconds. Truly amazing. We had a good laugh about it (it woke him up, incredibly enough) and then went about our business; he, to sleep, and I to my conversation with Novel and Uffish. However, his bowels were not content to stop there. He kept shooting these off for a good ten or fifteen minutes. It was absolutely uncanny. Both of us were dumbfounded that he could flatulate so often and for so long at a time. It was a rough night for all involved.

Hopefully I haven't offended anyone with this one. It just struck me as so incredibly funny that i just had to post it.

- Optimistic.