Quelquefois, je me sens comme la bibliotheque sans frontières.

Grad school application is GO!
More or less, but I have until June for the "preferred" status on the app, until July or August for the final final deadline. Not really much left to do.

Feel almost like I wasted my one day off a week today filming a three minute film on Bolex . . . but for a lot of reasons I realize that it wasn't a waste and I'm just being cranky. Whenever else am I going to get a chance to use the phrase "my knuckles are bleeding from the pumpernickel"

Also, got a raise at my primary job. Which is nice, given we are under a hiring freeze and people are very nearly being laid off. Makes me feel special at least.

I seem to be playing World of Warcraft . . .

I know this may be a little bit premature, but


WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!





that is all.

so, ever since we moved in, the drain in the bathroom has been draining more and more slowly, to the point where recently it takes all day to drain the water left in the tub after taking a shower. I tried an enzyme-based cleaner, which didn't really work, so this morning I grabbed out the toolbox and took apart the drain only to discover . . . that there was a used condom blocking the drain. Which makes me think that the person who owned this place before us (who was using it as a rental) had some rather disgruntled tenants.

So thank you, whomever decided to dispose of a condom in the bathtub. Thank you so much. That was a very special experience for me, I hope it was for you too.

Finally, after three months of ISP wrangling and various tasks (although this is not completely finished - I recently got a bill for 120 dollars for three months of internet that I never had - since my ISP (which shall remain nameless for the time being) never actually enabled my internet. But today they showed up and actually did the install, which is nice.

Also, finished the first draft of my novel . . . but it's too short. So the stuff I cut, thinking "This is going to be way too long" goes back in.

moved in, more or less. It's been pretty nice so far, but we'll see how that goes once utility bills start to come in. Internet is still not set up, so if you want to contact me do so by phone since I have to use the wiffer at work and it limits me to an hour at a time. So show up, hang out. Let me show off the new place. More updates when I have time.

I'm not very fond of the Theosophical Society in general. I think there's plenty of groups out there making the world into a prison without new-age type societies doing the same thing in the name of liberation. That being said, I think Krishnamurti was a fascinating person and his life is definitely worth looking at more closely.

Mostly because of the following:
"I maintain that truth is a pathless land, and you cannot approach it by any path whatsoever, by any religion, by any sect. That is my point of view, and I adhere to that absolutely and unconditionally."
Despite the irony of the last, I find it interesting that his ultimate triumph lay in rejection. He rejected the entire system that existed to set him up as a new messiah, gave back all the money and gifts he had received through that system, and in doing so managed to express his message in a much more pure way he would have if he had remained with the Order of the Star.

That said, I am completely aware that his very actions represented the continuation of centuries of Indian religious tradition, but he did it on an international scale which confused the hell out of the TS. Maybe it's my own bias, but I find it hilarious.

A detailed examination of regionalisms in Preacher

an available retail space in an area that is in desperate need of a used bookstore

a use for my pretty specific skill set that does not require me to go through boot camp first.

because there aren't enough pointless lists on LJ.

I like to use this as a mantra and general topic for meditation and I find the results fascinating:
I am what I am not.

So, tonight I found out that my physics professor had never noticed that I ever showed up for the class. This confuses me, but the last time I had this professor the same thing happened - they would take attendance, I would raise my hand and say "here" and all that, but they would go, "oh, he's not here today?"
I would practically have to yell to get her to notice my presence.
I'm just lucky I guess.

Regardless, musical projects are kind of on hold for the moment, I guess. Too many things to do. The realtor's kind of a flake, but I don't mind.

That's been pretty much my motto lately. It's been funny watching everybody else get angry at things that have happened to me lately. Whatever.
There's only one thing that's causing me any frustration, but whatever happens will happen. I'm not saying that I don't want it to turn out a specific way, but if it doesn't I guess I'll just have to deal with it.

Also, I've been re-reading the Dark Tower lately (along with starting the Runelords series - more on that later when I've put more thought into it) since I never got ahold of the last three books. I've forgotten how much fun it really was. And it also makes me embarrassed to admit that I actually do like Stephen King (or at least, what I've read - I've only read the Shining and the Dark Tower books) for the most part.

one must first of all that while the journey to enlightenment may take the form of a series of sudden leaps, that does not make it an easy journey or a short one. The prospective illuminatus (a term I use because it fits as well as any other, which I herafter define as "enlightened one") must be willing to sacrifice anything in search of this goal. If the individual is not willing to make this sacrifice, they may find it well made for them.

So take care, my poor seekers, for what you seek to protect you may very well lose in the process.

Til we be roten, kan we nat be rype;
We hoppen alwey whil that the world wol pype.
For in oure wyl ther stiketh evere a nayl,
To have an hoor heed and a grene tayl,
-Chaucer

I know my beliefs end up sounding very strange, but I've got an argument and I guess one could listen to it or not as is their want.

Everything is naturally in a transitional stage. This includes human beings. I am also fully aware that I am dangerously close to the mad scientist archetype. What doesn't help this factor is how much disdain I have for science itself, given how much mad science is fueled by the impossible.

What really comes in the way is my personality type is really opposed to that level of meddling in other people's lives.

this is a 100% real line from an e-mail I received from reslife today.
"11 out of every 10 college students will need to defend themselves at some point in their lives."
Isn't that an impressive statistic?

I got an "A" on my thesis. woo.

Sometimes it rains inside my head
All the words run dry
Walls are breathing hands are reaching up
To touch my thigh

No they don't have to take you away
No they don't have to take you away
No they don't have to take you away
No they don't have to take you away

Sometimes it's bright inside my head
Just like the spark in my eyes
And hands are breathing ones are reaching up
Cause that's the time we rise

No they don't have to take you away
No they don't have to take you away
No they don't have to take you away
No they don't have to take you away
(That's breaking away again)
No they don't have to take you away
-Medicine, "Time Baby III"

I've got a new blog. It's for class, so don't expect it to be comprehensible (or, expect it to be more comprehensible - at least more forthright than this one)

it's at

http://letrangerdelest.wordpress.com

So, what's been going on? Mostly, work, school, and band practice, plus full-time SO, plus whatever else is going on. Pretty busy, but strangely enough it doesn't seem too busy.

The band is going pretty well. I feel like we really need to stay away from covers and stick to our strengths - which is working together to create organic not-really-jam sessions. It's not a secret that the one cover we performed last wednesday was a horrible mess and the jam session where we said "let's do this, then this, then this" turned out really well. It's just a lot more work to re-arrange a cover for out weird instrumentation. I don't know if we'll be playing this Wednesday or not. Depends on how much people really want to play.

But practice tonight just underscored my feelings on covers - we can spend an hour trying to learn one song and failing, or we can successfully write a new song in the same amount of time with a lot less stress. Plus, it sounds better. The problem with having an unconventional group is that it's hard to find other people's music that fits with yours unless you think out of the box. Just because we have a horn doesn't mean we should be playing music with a horn section. In fact, I've put together a list of covers that would work a lot better than Marley or the Doors.

Delaney and Bonnie - Superstar (I'm thinking the Sonic Youth cover)
Outkast - Hey Ya

I would limit it to about that. If anybody else has any other suggestions that can be done with our sparse instrumentation, let me know, but I seriously think that's about it.

You know what? I'm tired of apologists who don't realize that there's a little thing called alternatives. Just because something is a certain way, doesn't mean it has to be. I'm thinking of this in particular. Yeah, I worked for that company. Now that I've left I make almost twice as much after the same amount of time, for a company with a smaller profit margin that isn't completely regulated by a dude in a suit ten thousand miles away, with more liberal return policies and a smaller market share. According to this guy, that shouldn't be possible. I try to avoid that place as much as possible (despite certain people I know who work there) but after this? I'm done completely.

George stood and brushed himself off as best he could. His wife (or was it ex-wife, now that he was dead? He wasn't sure.) had already left, the spectacle of her husband (or ex-husband) dying of BRAIN EXPLOSION leaving her bored and anxious to find something else to do. Shit, George thought, looking down at his body. My brain really is leaking out of my head. George carefully stepped around his rapidly cooling body, taking pains to avoid the blood that was now congealing next to the kitchen table, and was about to head out the door when he realized something. What am I supposed to do now? he asked himself. I don't really have anywhere to go, or anything to do. Then it hit him.
"I'm FREE!" he said aloud. "I can do whatever I want!" Then, he realized the implications of what he was saying. "But what do I want to do?" Determined to find out, George opened the front door and waltzed out, not waiting for it to shut behind him.

"What was that?" Annabelle's lover asked as Annabell returned.
"What was what?" Annabelle replied. "The door slamming or the explosion?"
"The explosion."
"Oh, nothing. It was just my husband dying of BRAIN EXPLOSION. It really was his time, y'know?"
"Then what was the door slamming from?"
"Oh, I'm not sure. Fancy a drink?" Annabelle asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from whatever noise her house was making at the time. Her lover stood, thinking about it for a moment. "You know, I don't think so, not this time. I've got to get to work, and I've already been cited three times for drinking on the job."
"Oh well," Annabelle sighed. "Go have your fun then." Her lover stood and exited the room, only to re-enter moments later, realizing he had forgotten to dress first.

George walked down the street, taking in all the sights and sounds of modern life, trying to figure out what to do first. "You know," a small voice behind him said. "You really shouldn't leave your head open like that, anybody could just waltz right in."
"I've never been a fan of the waltz," said George, self consciously. "And anyways, it's not my fault my head is open, it's that I've just died of BRAIN EXPLOSION."
"I was wondering, you have that look about you. Mind if I wander with you?"
"Of course not," replied George, looking around for the source of the voice. "But first, mind if I ask where you are?"
"Right here," the voice said, and George noticed a blonde figure in the distance, waving at him. "I'll be right over," it said.
"How can I hear you so clearly if you are that far away?" asked George.
"Simple," the young woman in the blue gingham dress said as she approached. "I'm an expert in throwing my voice. Shall we be off?"
"Certainly," said George, and the two strode off together.