All I Ask of You

Ah– what a wonderful day. I slept through my 10:00 class, not waking up until ~1:00. Once up I went and ate some food, and then eventually joined in a game of ultimate and played for a couple hours on a wet, muddy field. After that I ate more food and eventually went to Assualt on Precinct 13 with Ken, which was a great action movie. After that we came back and played some games (including a game of AOM where I got my ass owned) and now I’m going to bed.

I’m going on a hike tomorrow w/ Mr. Ben & Co, so I need to be well rested.

What a great Friday. =)

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Parallel Parking Skillz That Killz and Stuff

Parking is a bitch. Fortunately, I’ve mastered parallel parking. Don’t believe me? Check these pictures (these depict places where I’ve parked, not where I’ve been boxed in):

A close up:

Boo-ya. What ch’ya got on that? That’s what I thought. Nothing. Nothing at all. Whoo! (Sagar can vouch for the pictures with the snow)

In other news, I finally bought a headphone amp. It’s a Headroom Coda, and opperates either with its AC adapter or off of two 9v batteries. I’m super stoked, and Frank has never sounded so good.

On other other news, I saw Steve Martin’s WASP performed tonight. It was certainly enjoyable, although there was something of a dark theme beneath the otherwise jovial group of plays. But I don’t feel like going in to it, so you’ll just need to see it for yourself some time. =)

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As I was stupidly killing time in the computer lab this afternoon, I happened to come accross this blog: http://riverbendblog.blogspot.com/

It’s written by an English speaking girl in occupied Iraq, and provides a small portion of “the other side of the story” that America is so sorely lacking. Reading her thoughts and experiences raises some uncomfortable questions. “Did I do this? Did my government do this? Did I support my government in doing this? Did I even stop to think about the Iraqi invasion while it took place, about the hundreds and thousands of lives? Did I do anything to oppose the war? …”

Riverbend writes:

While we were aware the whole WMD farce was just a badly produced black comedy, it’s still upsetting to hear Bush’s declaration that he was wrong. It’s upsetting because it just confirms the worst: right-wing Americans don’t care about justifying this war. They don’t care about right or wrong or innocents dead and more to die. They were somewhat ahead of the game. When they saw their idiotic president wasn’t going to find weapons anywhere in Iraq, they decided it would be about mass graves. It wasn’t long before the very people who came to ‘liberate’ a sovereign country soon began burying more Iraqis in mass graves. The smart weapons began to stupidly kill ‘possibly innocent’ civilians (they are only ‘definitely innocent’ if they are working with the current Iraqi security forces or American troops). It went once more from protecting poor Iraqis from themselves to protecting Americans from ‘terrorists’.

Samuel P. Huntington writes

The West won the world not by the superiority of its ideas or values or religion but rather by its superiority in applying organized violence. Westerners often forget this fact, non-Westerners never do.

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A New Direction

I came to a realization tonight that my schedule for the following semester, which leaves my evenings and weekends largely open, allows for the addition of one more thing. As I pondered this, there came two thoughts of things to fill the hours. Either 1) get a girlfriend or 2) get a second part time job. Truth be told, I’m thinking that I want to pick up a second part time job.

So it’s like this: I’m here for another four months. Of these four months, I’m planning on being gone upwards of four weekends, which effectively means that I’m here for three months. So I could throw myself and try to involve myself in some stupid, sadistic relationship to fill my life with confusion or drama (lord knows that the relationship drama NEVER ends…), or I could hunker down and invest myself into my studies and into getting out of debt. Somehow getting out of debt seems a better option.

So for now I’m thinking of that it’s time to become an introvert. It’s time to shift my focus from things external to those things that I consider to be more suitable with my plans for the future.
1. Audio – High quality audio has always been an interest, and in the next few weeks I’ll complete my setup for a low end audiophile set-up. God, I’m excited.
2. Music – I need to be investing hours a week into my guitar, and I want to pick up some piano again.
3. Film – I want to be writing reviews and investing in critical analysis of film. I honestly think that I have the appropriate gifting to be able to excel, and it’s high time for me to start. My goal for the short term: 95% accuracy for my Academy Award predictions.
4. Outdoors – Next Saturday I’ll hike Sacagawea (9,665 feet!), and lord knows what’s beyond that.

Those are my goals for the upcoming semester. Maybe they’re not especially high-brow or idealistic, but they’re what I want, they’re safe, they’re rewarding, and they’ll last past this semester.

In the mean time, I’m going to pick up my guitar for a while, and then get some sleep with the hopes of finally championing this infernal cold that I have yet to elude.

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What a wild lazy Saturday

So… I got back from my meeting… and god only knows what I did with my time this afternoon. I went to the 4:30 showing of The Aviator– if it wasn’t 4:00AM I’d write a few words about it… and then watched 8mm… same about that.

And then we were bored for a while.

Then we decided to go to the Pita Pit (around 2:30AM) which was quite an adventure. We piled six people into Jordan’s truck and drove downtown. When we got to the Pita Pit, I’m pretty sure that we were the only sober people there. And that includes the employees– well, point in fact, there was actually one sober worker, who seemed to be throughougly annoyed with his drunk co-workers. As I was ordering my Pita, the guy at the counter complains about his co-workers going to the bars, and then procedes to pull out a can of beer and open it on the counter, spraying foam all over. It’s rather amusing– there’s a sign on the inside of the door leading to the back room that says “NO going to bars between shifts.”

So we all made it back to the quad, despite Evan getting hit on by some drunk girl who tried to get into a fight with another girl and threw a chair…

And ever since then we’ve been listening to Michah recount his oddesy to Las Vegas and back, which is HIGHLY amusing.

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Life’s Recipe

Red Bull + Decongestants == God

I’m going to be more sick in the morning, though– I can feel it already. Damn me!

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T & C Thoughts — The Role of the Unconscious

Ha. I’m excited. My T&C class rocks the house. Aside from “freak girl,” everyone seems intelligent and there’s such a good variety of different perspectives and ideas available, and Jeff, our facilitator, does an awesome job of bringing people into the conversation and keeping the conversation going. Tonight is only the second night in, and already we had conversation that lasted the entire span of the class– animated and semi-intelligent conversation at that.

Which introduced to me the idea of the conscious vs. the unconscious and their respective roles and perceptions. So it goes like this: there exists at least two states of the human psyche: the conscious, that is the things we are aware of, the choices we make, etc, and the unconscious, which is the thoughts, ideas and personality that exists within us that we are unaware of. The unconscious is often a great source of ingenuity and wisdom– I can think of countless examples, both personal and historical, of instances of running head-first into a problem and being unable to find a solution. The solution would only come when one took a step back– when Archemedies took a bath, or when Newton reclined under the tree, or when I decided to play Counter-Strike rather than thinking about it. That’s the work of the subconscious, that’s worked out the problem on its own that the conscious was unable to apprehend.

But that’s not the point. The point is simply that there exist the two separate entities. The most compelling evidence of this is dreaming. When you sleep, you are unconscious, which means that everything you dream is entirely a fabrication of the unconscious psyche. There’s no conscious thought involved. What’s interesting is this: there exists a unconscious perception of the world that is often distinctly different than the waking world. It’s kinda like this:

There’s the “real” world, as we perceive it via our senses. This is brought in, and portions of this pass to the conscious mind, and portions to the unconscious. Some consider the unconscious to be the more observant of the two, but I say rather that it sees a portion that the conscious misses over: the conscious is trained to pick things out and to logically piece them together, whereas the unconscious takes in what it wills.

Somewhere between is the world that both agree on, which is how I would say I perceive the world– a balance between the truth and my imagination. Mental illness comes from an imbalance of these forces: an inability to be rational codifies one as insane– too much of the imaginative unconscious– and too much rational and you’re unable to create new thoughts and ideas, and the world is merely black and white. The latter do much better in society, but as with everything, only in a balance of the two does one have the potential for a “normal” and fulfilled life.

So this doesn’t make any sense, but what of it? I really don’t care. I just felt inclined to type something before I went to bed.

Another idea, before it eludes me, is the concept of “training” the subconscious– almost as though it’s a separate and somewhat disagreeable entity. This thought is that if one is consistently honest with one’s subconscious (i.e. I tell myself that I’m going to get up in the morning, and then I do) that eventually one gains the trust and some control of one’s self conscious. Deception, on the other hand (i.e. I say I’m going to get up but then choose not to because I’m still tired) estranges one from one’s self-conscious.

Hmm.

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Resignation to Reality

There’s no way I can do it. I’m not Bovard, I’m not god, hell, I’m not even a good student. So to think that I could take 19 credit hours, work 20 hours a week, and still maintain something of a social life… is poorly thought out at best. I could probably sustain this so long as nothing unexpected happened, but should I get sick, or should Bridger get 17″ of powder, or when I take off to go visit a few places this semester… it’ll kill me.

So to start with I’m going to back out of this crazy idea of taking the 8:00AM art history class– good heavens, I’d love to take it, but, not only do I never stand a chance of getting UP at that obscene hour, but (and of greater importance) I just don’t have the time nor energies to take that on in addition to everything else.

Well, I should probably listen to my prof. Until later…

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Still a bad student.

Ah. Second semester. It finds me sitting at work, killing time on the internet, and wrestling with the realization that my study habit haven’t improved a bit. There are two facinating books full of assigned reading that are sitting all of six inches from my laptop, and yet I find myself staring absentmindedly at Firefox, hoping I’ll come up with some sort of inspirational way to kill more time on the internet. I’m an addict, really– like a television junkie, after a fashion. Like a television junkie in that I’m content to whittle away countless hundreds of hours into stupid online entertainment. I’m not edified by it. I’m not built up by it. I’m not challenged. I’m not enlightened. But the worst of it is that I’m really not even all that entertained– it’s all the same banal, formulaic Flash scripts and poorly crafted Photoshop humor. Some of it is humorous. The rest just kills the time. And I hate that. I hate that I’m so lazy that I would rather just kill off time than to learn to explore or to, horror, do my job. And yet I’m still here, posting away while my Art History book sits untouched.

Eek. I think I’m headed for the quarantine closet. It’s been decided that, since our Quad is so small, anyone who gets sick needs to move to the closet upstairs and enter and leave via the emergency fire exit, so as not to get everyone else in the quad sick. And I’m… not feeling so well. Ug.
(Edit: this feels strangley like fungus-water disease. I hope it’s not somehow related to drinking from the fungus-water bottle..)

Hmm. What else is new. I’m working on starting up a DC++ hub for people here on campus. We’ll see how that goes. (eateggs.com/music)

That’s about it, for now. God, I hope I don’t get sick. Maybe I’ll go do my job for a while, and eventually settle down to reading about the Chinese Pre-Imperial period.

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To a close: week two

In two hours, I’ll hop into my car with Sagar in order to get him to the Billings airport by 4:30AM to catch his 6:30AM flight. It’s been a wild two weeks– I moved in with Sagar almost exactly two weeks ago and now it’s time to pick up where I left off and drive into second semester.

I played my guitar for upwards of three hours tonight, in addition to the hour that I played it this morning. The last two weeks have been musically rich, and I hope the music continues after Sagar leaves. I’d like to start playing the piano again as well– I’m not there yet, but I’m afraid that I’m soon going to be at the point where I say “I wish I had never quit–” a prophesy my mom made when I quit piano at the start of 7th grade. Honestly, I’m lacking in musical tallent, or lacking for rythem at the very least– but I have hopes that I can compensate for my lack of tallent with an abundance of enthusiasm. In the meantime, I added Dispatch’s Flying Horses to my limited repetoir tonight, marking my first Dispatch song.

I find myself torn– there’s SO much that I want to write for my own sake– thoughts, trivial details, etc, but by the same token I can’t shake the idea that I have an audience (albeit limited) and, odds are, my audience has NO desire to read countless pages of benal ramblings. Ug. I’ll try to stick to stuff that’s interesting.

We played a 22 player game of Counter-Strike tonight: Bovard has done a fabulous job of passing Counter-Strike around, and we had most of Quad E playing against Quad A and Langford. It was good times. And yeah– I kicked some ass. Go me. =)

In other news, I have established myself as a master of parallel-parking. Finding a parking-place close to my Quad has become especially important as of late with the onset of sub-zero weather and my determination to park as close to the quad as possible has been matched only by my desire to spend as little time in the cold as possible. With this as my motivation (and Sagar as my witness), I sqeezed my car into this improbably small space:

Oh, and just to dispell the notion that this was luck, not sheer parallel-parking skill, I did it again. =)

… to be finished later

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