Friday, December 29, 2006


I have a problem with vacations. The problem is, I don't know how to relax, and I feel like I'm wasting a lot of time. There are some people who believe that it is impossible to waste time, as even the stupidest actions have some kind of value (? yeah, I don't quite get this philosophy yet, I think I waste tons of time). Christmas was okay I guess. I'm starting to get frustrated because I have so much stuff. I kind of want to burn a lot of it. Donating some to DI would probably be more constructive though. Arg, who cares if it's constructive? Like efficiency really improves quality of life! This is a point I get frustrated over quite often. I mean, are you really going to enjoy life that more if it takes you 5 years rather than 1 year to learn Spanish or something? Well, I suppose if you were living there it would make a difference. A big difference. But I mean, for like making hot chocolate mix, is anyone really going to care if it's $5 for a can rather than $7?

Another thing about me that bothers me is my elitism when it comes to books. When I read a classic, I must read the unabridged, pure original, and I must read the whole thing. I recently violated this constraint of mine when I stopped reading The Idiot halfway through. I'm reading Les Miserables now, and I must admit that I think it could be pared down a bit. I mean, 40 pages on cloisters? Another 40 pages on Waterloo? I only care about the darn story, so tell it! On the other hand, I tell myself that reading this sort of thing will give me an appreciation for a different method of storytelling, and that in my impulsive undiscipline, reading boring things is helpful as an exercise in self-control. It's also kind of interesting to see how Hugo will start on something completely unrelated and relate it to the story somehow. Sometimes I wish that we still had bards and poets to entertain us, but I suppose that has been replaced by movies and the television, and books. I get bored when people try to tell me stories anyways. I need pictures and the promise of looking smart to get me through stories.

I'm in Albuquerque now visiting my sister, and it's been snowing all day. I still really hate the snow, I hate what it does to the plants, and I hate how it makes everything look the same, and I hate how it makes things icy and dangerous. I just found out that my wannbe leather gloves aren't waterproof. I hate how I have like 6 pairs of gloves and none of them are waterproof. I also have boots and things that aren't waterproof. What is the point of having snow boots that aren't waterproof? I'm not sure, except mine are retro 80's coolness. I wore them to work one time, and my coworker was like, "what are you, three? I didn't know they made snow boots for adults." They're going sledding, and I'm just the party pooper staying here because I don't want to be miserably wet in like three seconds. Yeah, that's me... unadventurous, hermetical, etc.

Another thing I dislike is this denim fashion. Denim jackets, denim hats, denim skirts... next thing you know they'll be making denim socks *shudders.* It just seems so tacky to have denim that is not in a pair of pants. There are so many other things that jackets can be made out of that are much warmer and better looking. Wool, for instance. Also, I have a problem with shoes. I used to wear running shoes all the time, but I've recently realized that running shoes look horrible, even when covered in sharpie designs. Unfortunately, it seems that the cuter the shoe is, the harder it is to match with more outfits, resulting in making necessary multiple pairs of shoes. Shoes take up a lot of space though, and they are difficult to throw away. I mean, imagine in your trash can an old sock, that is doable, but a pair of shoes? That seems wasteful. Every now and then I think about how all that stuff in the trash doesn't really disappear, it just gets relocated. Thinking about these things makes me scared that some day trash will take over the world, seeing as how there is so much of it, or that garbage men may go on strike and I would have to be stuck with it in my area of residence. Alright, I think I've complained enough for one day.

Thursday, December 21, 2006


Yay, I'm done with finals. I bought an ipod shuffle for myself, but I can't get it to work. So much for straight out of the box. More complaining later, if you're lucky.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Finals = Ugly

I don't want to write my paper and I don't want to study, and I wish it were over. I'm a horrible writer and I'm going to fail all my classes, and then my life will suck, not like it did before, but I'm sure it can get worse. No one will love me, I'll be kicked out on to the street and live in a cardboard box and freeze because Utah is cold. After losing several fingers and toes to frostbite I'll probably be admitted to a mental institution for being homeless and have a schizophrenic roommate, whom I will instantly start to emulate. Many years later they'll find out the catalyst for my pscychopathology and stop giving finals.

I have strange fantasies don't I? Whistler, you are so weird. Arrgh! Just write the stupid paper!

Wednesday, December 06, 2006


I like milk. In fact, I like milk so much that I think I'll write a poem about it.

White and cold
bubbly and hot
calcium's favorite resting place
a hot chocolate base
calms a troubled stomach
babies like to suck
wherever drinks are sold
milk shall be sought.