Emgee's Life

Wha? A lyric post?

2005-08-25T21:28:00.000-07:00

Sometiems I find that music can be the only medium apt to disply how I feel. A lot of times I find that tons of weird bands and weird songs describe me, but verily; only one band always has something for me. Gosh, I miss these guys.

- R.I.P. -
The Thriftshop Junkies.

-Never Looking Back-
Time to decide to go back to school;
Wanna forget about all thoses things I though were cool.
Hangin' out upstairs with the guys in the band--
All those things I've wanted have fallen like the sand.

Wha? Hey! Wha? Yeah! Wha? Ha!
Ha ha ha! Hey! Wha? Yeah! Whoa, pick it up!
Wha? Hey! Wha? Yeah! Wha? Ha!
Ha ha ha!

Fixed on a path ahead I must follow;
Sometimes all these rules are hard to swallow.
Change is at hand and I'm ready to go.
Where will we go next? He will only know.

Wha? Hey! Wha? Yeah! Hoo!
Ha ha ha! Hey! Wha? Yeah! Whoa here we go!
Wha? Hey Wha? Yeah! Wha? Ha!
Ha ha ha! Ha! Ha, here we go!

While we're looking back!

"Much wine" my foot.

2005-08-22T09:33:00.000-07:00

For starters: People who drink are fucking idiots.

One of my best friends Paul had a birthday party a couple nights ago. It was advertised as a good fun party; we brought along a Scrabble board, and that always means a good time. However, it was his 21st. And he's a European. So, needless to say, everyone was drinking, and I was picked via rock-scissors-paper to be the Designated Driver.

There aren't many things more fun than watching your friends drink and have fun in front of you while you have to force a smile and laugh. Oh wait, I can think of many. How about: Having to clean up after a drunken Romanian who knocks things over and doesn't know it? Having to be ostracised by the elitist wine-junkies for not knowing what temperature to chill a blush and for how long? Being followed by drunks even when you leave the hosue to get some air? Having to smile while drunks insult you, your driving, and your inability to "have a good time?" Having to pretend everything is cool the next day when people ask what they did? Having to nod in agreement to people explaining how they were -really- drunk, or how they are too sophisticated to be drunk, or how they are so knowledgeable and experienced with wine that they are immune to inebriation.

Yeah, nevermind. Not getting to drink more than a couple sips was the least of my vexes.

So here's my theory; if you don't agree, you're entitled to your own opinion: Don't think you're smart if you drink. You're truly an ibecile without any kind of real judgement.

----

In other news, classes have begun and life is starting to sort itself out. Three out of my four classes look hopeful, and life here on campus should be great. Only drawbacks so far are that we have a new roommate, whom I will from now on refer to as "Mouth-Breather," and I have to take an Education Foundation class that is unjustifiably difficult and horribly biased towards females. I believe that I am one of two males in the Education department in this school. I still have not gotten used to being asked to be more "Motherly" whilst teaching.

I haven't gotten to play FFXI lately, other than a few minutes a day to rack up Guild Points. It bothers me, but doesn't. Truth be told, I'm at a point now where I would actually not feel saddened one bit to quit the game. Deep down, I do want to continue, but for the very current future--most likely only for a couple more days--FFXI holds no importance to me. I have restarted FFTactics, which is a blast. I'm also trying to rip through a couple more Star Wars novels before I get too bogged down with literature for my classes. Which, in all actuality, I'm looking forward to with the same fervor with which I usually save for games.

The consesnus on campus for dating seems to be that it is required to be popular. I cannot name anyone off the top of my head who is not coupled, married, engaged, or hinting-towards-coupling. It irritates me, but also saddens me. I am still more than content being single, but in an environment not only encouraging relationships, but informally mandating them, I feel ostracized if I do not show at least some interest in dating. I'm not saying that I'm not interested in anyone here; I can think of three girls on campus alone whom I would love to forge a companionship with. However, all see me as a reculse, one I have pursued and lost before, one has refused me before, and one has eyes for someone else. :sigh: Times are tough, in the eternal memory of "TaT guy" in RPGWorld.

But alas, I shall perservere. There is too much for me here to give up hope. I have been given two amazing friends in my room who encourage me, I am surrounded by people who try their hardest to retrieve me from my isolated existance, and I verily know that someone loves me, even if not in a way I think I want. And to put the cherry on the top, I have a kick-ass group of Counter-Strike compatriots to help me unwind.

I'm that bad.

2005-08-07T20:50:00.000-07:00

Today I got called a "tub-thumping Christian puke-patch."

Nothing Nice is Back!

2005-07-08T01:55:00.000-07:00

Just Fireworks?

2005-07-04T22:13:00.000-07:00

I'm thankful that I'm an American.
I'm so glad that I exist in a country where I can worship God, where I can get a job, and where I can have the freedom to do what I want with my life.
I'm indebted to the heroes that have given the only life they had in the defense of such a great nation.
I'm truly happy that I am ruled by just leaders and a fair government.
I thank God for America.

Sand Shield vs. Bone Sword

2005-07-01T14:43:00.000-07:00

If you understand what the title means, you are either A) Jeremy Tingle, B) A fan of Jeremy Tingle from MACU, or C) too into Naruto.

Which sadly, I'm starting to be. My brother convinced me to start watching Naruto, as well as some other new Anime, and like I do with most comics/cartoon, I splurged. Within the last week, I have watched the first 100 episodes. Blargh. I'm scared I'm going to turn out like Jeremy, which I only regret because I don't think that anyone should be like him; he's too cool to clone.

Lets see... otherwise... I've been playing more with Nothing Wasted after we re-grouped a week or so ago. The heart has come back into it for a certain few, but a couple still just blow it off. Its kinda sad. The pattern for the last few practices is I getting there at 5, two others getting there either on time or within like 15 minutes, us three sitting around until 6:30 when Eddy comes, then us having to call and remind the rest who haven't shown up. Its kinda bogus. We usually end up with the same 5 people every practice. And I would definitely say that these are the 5 best musicians I know, but it is still tedious practicing without any guitars for weeks. We just have no idea what happened to either. Parhaps there is some sort of evil villain stealing guitarists to power his new super-laser-space-station. That would suck.

I recently found an S-Video cable and a Stereo Y-Splitter for my computer, so I can now plug it straight into my TV and Sound System and watch anime. Its grand. We need to have a big Cowboy Bebop night. And a LAN party. DAN! LAN! NOW!

Until then... everyone go buy an airsoft gun, for I have also joined the craze.

Ben Stein - Smart kid.

2005-06-13T01:42:00.000-07:00

As I begin to write this, I "slug" it, as we writers say, which means I put a heading on top of the document to identify it. This heading is "eonlineFINAL," and it gives me a shiver to write it. I have been doing this column for so long that I cannot even recall when I started.

Lew Harris, who founded this great site, asked me to do it maybe seven or eight years ago, and I loved writing this column so much for so long I came to believe it would never end.

But again, all things must pass, and my column for E! Online must pass. In a way, it is actually the perfect time for it to pass. Lew, whom I have known forever, was impressed that I knew so many stars at Morton's on Monday nights.

He could not get over it, in fact. So, he said I should write a column about the stars I saw at Morton's and what they had to say.

It worked well for a long time, but gradually, my changing as a person and the world's change have overtaken it. On a small scale, Morton's, while better than ever, no longer attracts as many stars as it used to. It still brings in the rich people in droves and definitely some stars.

I saw Samuel L. Jackson there a few days ago, and we had a nice visit, and right before that, I saw and had a splendid talk with Warren Beatty in an elevator, in which we agreed that Splendor in the Grass was a super movie.

But Morton's is not the star galaxy it once was, though it probably will be again.

Beyond that, a bigger change has happened. I no longer think Hollywood stars are terribly important. They are uniformly pleasant, friendly people, and they treat me better than I deserve to be treated. But a man or woman who makes a huge wage for memorizing lines and reciting them in front of a camera is no longer my idea of a shining star we should all look up to.

How can a man or woman who makes an eight-figure wage and lives in insane luxury really be a star in today's world, if by a "star" we mean someone bright and powerful and attractive as a role model?

Real stars are not riding around in the backs of limousines or in Porsches or getting trained in yoga or Pilates and eating only raw fruit while they have Vietnamese girls do their nails. They can be interesting, nice people, but they are not heroes to me any longer.

A real star is the soldier of the 4th Infantry Division who poked his head into a hole on a farm near Tikrit, Iraq. He could have been met by a bomb or a hail of AK-47 bullets. Instead, he faced an abject Saddam Hussein and the gratitude of all of the decent people of the world.

A real star is the U.S. soldier who was sent to disarm a bomb next to a road north of Baghdad. He approached it, and the bomb went off and killed him.

A real star, the kind who haunts my memory night and day, is the U.S. soldier in Baghdad who saw a little girl playing with a piece of unexploded ordnance on a street near where he was guarding a station. He pushed her aside and threw himself on it just as it exploded. He left a family desolate in California and a little girl alive in Baghdad.

The stars who deserve media attention are not the ones who have lavish weddings on TV but the ones who patrol the streets of Mosul even after two of their buddies were murdered and their bodies battered and stripped for the sin of trying to protect Iraqis from terrorists.

We put couples with incomes of $100 million a year on the covers of our magazines. The noncoms and officers who barely scrape by on military pay but stand on guard in Afghanistan and Iraq and on ships and in submarines and near the Arctic Circle are anonymous as they live and die.

I am no longer comfortable being a part of the system that has such poor values, and I do not want to perpetuate those values by pretending that who is eating at Morton's is a big subject.

There are plenty of other stars in the American firmament. The policemen and women who go off on patrol in South Central and have no idea if they will return alive. The orderlies and paramedics who bring in people who have been in terrible accidents and prepare them for surgery. The teachers and nurses who throw their whole spirits into caring for autistic children. The kind men and women who work in hospices and in cancer wards.

Think of each and every fireman who was running up the stairs at the World Trade Center as the towers began to collapse.

Now you have my idea of a real hero.

Last column, I told you a few of the rules I had learned to keep my sanity. Well, here is a final one to help you keep your sanity and keep you in the running for stardom: We are puny, insignificant creatures.

We are not responsible for the operation of the universe, and what happens to us is not terribly important. God is real, not a fiction, and when we turn over our lives to Him, he takes far better care of us than we could ever do for ourselves.

In a word, we make ourselves sane when we fire ourselves as the directors of the movie of our lives and turn the power over to Him.

I can put it another way. Years ago, I realized I could never be as great an actor as Olivier or as good a comic as Steve Martin--or Martin Mull or Fred Willard--or as good an economist as Samuelson or Friedman or as good a writer as Fitzgerald. Or even remotely close to any of them.

But I could be a devoted father to my son, husband to my wife and, above all, a good son to the parents who had done so much for me. This came to be my main task in life.

I did it moderately well with my son, pretty well with my wife and well indeed with my parents (with my sister's help). I cared for and paid attention to them in their declining years. I stayed with my father as he got sick, went into extremis and then into a coma and then entered immortality with my sister and me reading him the Psalms.

This was the only point at which my life touched the lives of the soldiers in Iraq or the firefighters in New York. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters and that it is my duty, in return for the lavish life God has devolved upon me, to help others He has placed in my path. This is my highest and best use as a human.

Game Over - Play Again?

2005-06-12T05:14:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking too much lately and I hate it when I do that.

Summer has been great and uneventful. However, Nothing Wasted has been a big dissappointment. Only four (Maybe 5) of us really care about the band, and the others are making those who do care feel like they waste their time. So, this Tuesday we're gonna have a big talk, and I guess plan our last shows. When it coems down to it, I'm not going to stop putting effort into music; its incredibly important to me. But would I rather spend that effort in trying to keep a dying band running and motivated, or on ending this band on good terms and making a new one that is dedicated? After much thought, I have chosen the latter.

Another game-over I've been thinking about is school. Now that I am not in ministry classes, there is nothing that I can do in Oklahoma that I cannot do here cheaper and better. Over there I cannot take music classes because they only offer Choir and Piano (The only instruments you need for worship, I guess.). If I found a college out here in Washington, I could major in English Education and minor in music for MUCH less money, and rid myself of the horror that is living in the south. I could take classes in drumming and music theory; classes that Oklahomans have never heard of. I could finish my education degree and get liscenced to teach in Washington, unlike at MACU, where they force you to take Oklahoma tests, then fee you to take the state tests in which you will be teaching.

So, I'm going to end Nothing Wasted after a couple shows. And I'm going to stop going to MACU after this coming semester. I'll keep praying and thinking on this, but so far my decision is nigh-final.

Anyone still ready this? How are you guys doing?

Tristan = Transit

2005-05-31T23:23:00.000-07:00

SO I just got back from Applebees. Had a rather cute but boneheaded waiter. Eh, someday I'll have a girl that's cute and goofy. Or cute and smart. Meh.

And before that I was at an awards ceremony for my dad. He got a Silver Beaver from the Boy Scouts for contributing so much for so many years. It was a great event, and I got to say hello to some of my old friends in scouting.

But the Master of Ceremonies really ruined the program. This kid really had the willingness to do a good job, but didn't quite have the potential to back it up. He couldn't read. He couldn't even talk very well. He would just try to sound out the words written on his clipboard, and managed to butcher everyone's name. He called my mom Shannon, another scout Tristan Holtz became Transit Holds, Commemorate became commentate. It was unnerving. I couldn't keep myself from laughing. Why do our high schools let this happen? We almost force kids to hate the English language so much that they refuse to learn it.

A linguical plague that I have noticed as of late is when people see a word, pronounce it qickly and incorrectly, then continue to say it that was forever. It is rampant around here. I ask people around me why they say these words incorrectly, and they say, "I've always said it that way." Guh. I just can't accept it.

Life's been... OK lately. I am bummed about a couple things. First off, one of my best friends Jeremy will not be returning to school at MACU. Ever. Second off... some people in Nothing Wasted don't really care anymore. And because they don't show up or care, it makes the people that do show up and care feel like they are wasting time. I'm scared.

I've heard good and bad things from the people I left in Oklahoma. Some of my friends have been enjoying their summers. Some won't be coming back. One really needs somebody's help.

I have been working on my habits. So far every day I've gotten 5 chapters of Bible in in the morning. Its been great. My FFXI time has subdued but become more useful. And I've been getting a lot of priorities straightened out.

But there's still a lot I want to do. I need to find out if Nickdon is coming up still or not, I need to get my car working again, and I need to fix my double bass pedal.

So I better get to work. Ciao.

If you aren't with me, you're against me.

2005-05-20T13:25:00.000-07:00

So yes yes yes, I haven't updated since I've been home. Its just.. usually when I update a blog its because of a lame thing that makes me angry, and so far, being home has been a series of awesome occurances. My band has been practicing almost every day and its so great. I've had a lot of fun getting nowhere in FFXI with my brother and Paul. I turned Dan away from WoW into a much larger world. I got Tortuga a new aquarium and lots of new doo-dads.

And most importantly, I saw Star Wars.

I was thoroughly impressed. I liked almost every minute of it; I say that only because Yoda's and R2's heroism made up for Hayden Christiansen's beyond-horrible acting. He just did a poor job with the vader thing. Talked too much and too cliched. But Yoda. Oh, Yoda. UROK DOOD. And R2-D2... badass. I even thought they did better with some of the other characters that I had no hope in, like Amidala, Palpatine (Senator), Mace Windu and Obi-Wan. But ugh... what was with Obi-Wan's new style of holding his lightsaber back and -pointing- at his opponnent? Blegh. And that whole 'General Grievous' guy was stupid.

But alas, there was something that I got annoyed with today that prompted me to blog. Greeting cards. My brother and I hunted for like 10 minutes for a card that didn't suck at Fred Meyers. We had to settle for one that just quasi-sucked. I mean, every one there either had to do with sex, beer, or farting. It was pathetic. Do the idiot football players that graduate high-school and go into stupid business jobs and hang out at bars all night have a job on the side as greeting card writers? I mean, we could have poets and English-speaking brainiacs making greeting cards, but instead, we put slimeballs that think poo-poo is a funny word if they have had enough beer that day making them. Blargh.

I don't even know what a 'cruller' is...

2005-05-08T14:40:00.000-07:00

Your Linguistic Profile:

65% General American English

20% Upper Midwestern

10% Yankee

5% Midwestern

0% Dixie

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

That was a really cool test. Mainly because it told me I didn't speak any 'Dixie.' Ugh. I would have been sad if it did.

I'm very sick of southerners. But not just Southerners, oh-ho-ho-no. My least favorite are those that try to differentiate themselves. A.K.A. those who say, "Y'all, Texas ain't a thang liyke Oklehoema! We be difernt folk!" or "Kansas/Wyoming isn't a part of the south; we are way more civilized." You people all live in Cowboy Country if you know it or not. Sure there may be pockets of non-Southern-ization, I.E. Wichita from what I hear, but you people need to just admit that you all live in the land of Pickup trucks, squirrel-shooting, and marrying your cousin. Shoot, all y'all.

So I'm done with my Sophomore year of college. It was far too strikingly similar to my Sophomore year of High School: I half-assed everything I did and just didn't care about anything. Hopefully I can turn this around like I did in High School.

I'm stuck on campus for a week now because the college boned up the calendar and changed the date that dorms close after my parents had already bought tickets for my return to Washington. So now I'm here, all by myself for the most part. I'm slowly packing away all of my effects into storage, and organizing what is left to take home. In other words, my room looks somewhat similar to a hillbilly's yard: strewn with garbage and toys. Maybe I should put a few tires and broken-down cars inhere just to complete the atmosphere.

Vic Viper

2005-05-03T07:29:00.000-07:00

So I just got done beating Gradius V for PS2. Wowzors... taht game iz teh pwn OLOL!!11@ For real, that is one of the hardest games I have ever played. While I was out with Nickdon, Becky, Lauren, and Megan at Hastings, I spotted a familiar looking starship on a PS2 rental box, and I thought, "ZOMG L@@K ITZ GRADIUS LOLZ!" (Yes, my brain does think in 1337. PWN J00!) So I run over to Nickdon (Yes run, I am a nerd and I got excited) and tell him that I found a sequel to the Gradius sequel we are always playing (Gradius III for SNES). We look it over and decide to rent it. Since then, we have logged 16 full hours playing it in the three days we have had it in the room. We really wanna buy it.

Anyways, other than that and Finals, I haven't been up to much. My Systematic Theology and Human World Geography finals went OK, and I have my World Civilizations one here in 25 minutes. Woo7.

Anyone up for Ping-Pong or some SNES in the student center tonight?

---EDIT---
SOO apparently Nickdon beat it last night.

Paranoid

2005-04-29T04:11:00.000-07:00

My paranoia has been acting up again lately. You can ask anyone I was with in the student center this afternoon. Here's the deal:

I check my mail, and there is some funny lookin' envelope in there. I open it up, and it look almost liek a paycheck would, or something you would get from a bank. You know, with the computer written letters and the crazy static-looking background, but it had a written-in address on it. It was a notice letting me know that if I called this 1-800 number and provided this unique ID# they sent me, I could win a million dollars.

So I compeltely freak out. I ever write my address, phone number, or even e-mail on anything. I always give fake information when asked for it, just because I don't like people knowing more about me than I want them to. But this thing... made me so enraged. If I did call this number, even to ask them to take me off their advertising spam list, it would just confirm that, "Yes, the address you sent this to IS real and PLEASE send me more garbage and whore out my address to other asshole companies that can send me additional filth like the junk you sent me." So I am sitting in the student center wracking my brain over how on earth they got my address (They used my FULL NAME and even knew what dorm room I was in) and everyone around me was just laughing.

So I'm psycho and do not react to stuff like this like a normal person would. So what? I don't like the fact that someone knows who I am and where I live and I don't know the same about them.

Man, I almost feel like that guy my dad always tells me about from his work; the one that believe that airplanes leave smoke trails full of government-issued conformity gas.

---

After today I will be finally caught up with homework and papers with my classes. So, this gives me two opportunities:
A) I can play FFXI a whole lot more.
B) I can be available on campus for hanging out.
As everyone here knows, I default to A. But, I'm going to try something new. If you happen to want to hang out let me know so I can not plan any FFXI stuff for a bit. If not, I'm totally cool playing FFXI for the next two weeks until I go home. But, I figgered since a couple people have been calling me out on my socio-phobic-ness, I would give them the benefit of the doubt.

Just... Wow.

2005-04-29T01:44:00.000-07:00

Escape of some sort.

2005-04-26T04:10:00.000-07:00

For the last 4 nights in a row I have had an extremely peculiar and downright frightening dream. I have an inescapable oddity when it coems to remembering dreams. Its not often that I have recurring dreams, but I can remember about 10 instances whereI have had the same dream repeatedly over a few years.

But never have I had the same dream multiple days in a row. That's why this one is really freaking me out. I was woken up early to write a paper this morning, so the last part of the dream was cut off, but I can strangely remember what happened afterwards from the other three dreams.

Basically, I guess I'm a part of a very small faction that, from what I can tell, are the only free people left on this planet (might be earth, I have seen nothing telling me it is or isn't.) I'm working with a group of 3 other people, and trying, for the first half, to break into an extremely high-defense area. Usually it take me about half of my dream to reach/get through this area; there are theses strange flying contraptions that my and my cadre are trying to avoid; I don't know much about them, as I am apparently someone new to the group and being led along as a rescuee of sorts.

Past the defenses of this compound, my group finally reaches whT I can only describe as a strange haven. This somewhat 'safe zone' looks like a very small (I mean maybe a total of 30-50 feet long) above-ground tunnel system. Inside, the air is artifical, as is the lighting. You must crouch when you enter, as it is only about 4 feet tall. There are a couple chambers in the tube system; one of which is the main tunnel, about 20 feet long. There is already one human corpse here when we arive. For some reason it will not rot or smell or decay at all. The second chamber is a bit more open, it has maybe about 6 feet of headroom, and is roughly circular, maybe 15 feet in diameter. This room is where my group usually stays to eat or talk. The last chamber I really dont have many words for; it is like a shower area, but it is still a tiny tunnel. Inside is a dense haze that people cannot breathe, so you must hold your breath while you go in. There is another human body in there, but it is decimated and strewn all over the place. People do not frequent that room, but for some reason you must visit it from time to time.

From what I can tell, this tiny tunnel system is a hiding place for me and my group while we await something that will change the world. Although it is loathesome to be inside, we try to get out to neighboring open fields to eat or talk jovially with each other and another character. This person is for some reason native to the tunnel area, but is not completely self-sustaining. He is as far as I can see a semi-invalid; we have to teach him a lot about why we are hiding and why we do what we do. But he is one of the nicest people I have talked to. He is African American and is always smiling.

The climax of this dream usually comes when my dreaming time is about 70-80% done. This thing/event we are hiding from is a device that can track humans with utmost accuracy, and will chase them down violently, either to catch them and emprison them or just kill them (I haven't figured that out yet.) We have one run-in with it on the way to the haven, and I am incapacitated and almost caught, but usually my friends carry me or lead me to the haven before I am subject to this menace. Anyways, after we have been in the tunnel house for a while, the invalid character senses something, and everyone starts rushing back to the tunnel system. We get inside, but only to gather our things, and we make a break for it as the small set of tunnels is destroyed behind us, taking with it the two corpses inside.

This is when I was awoken today, and interrupted. I know that usually this 'thing' that has been a menace to humankind and is chasing us usually finds us and there is a short confrontation, but it utterly decimates my group and I am left near dead with the rest of my friends around me. I look up through eyes that cannot close at the bland grey sky, the now calm and retreating death machine, and my murdered friends as I slowly lose eyesight and die with my eyes still open.

----

Is this too weird or what? I can only hope that I find out more about this dream, but on the other hand I wish that I will never seen it in my head again; it is both enthralling and appalling.

Ban Cell Phones!

2005-04-25T01:09:00.000-07:00

So yes. My roommate was watching some video on cell phones today. Why are they so darn popular? Why do people frequent their use as oft as they do? I was buying Chinese food today, and the guy behind not only talked on his darn phone the whole time he was there, but when got up to order, he had to try to juggle a conversation with the English-challenged lady behind the counter but also try to talk about some new e-mail he got to whoever was on his phone! What insolence! Why can people not go without talking to people for the 30 seconds it takes to order food, or why can they not eat without having a phone on to talk, or why must they be talking while driving a car (AKA a death machine made of molten steel moving at 70MPH)? Worst of all, why must people *always* leave their phones on during movies, classes and church? Do they think its funny to look like an idiot when it goes off and everyone in class has to stop what they are doing and wait until the annoying hip-hop beat this little phone is emitting at blaring decibels ceases? They must have had it happen before, or at least been witness to another person being called in such a situation; why do they think that the same will not happen to them if they leave their phone on? Guh. I just cannot stand cell phones in the least.

Also, my brother has addiceted me to another online webcomic, VGCats. They side with me when it comes to cell phones.

Late 360 shuvit to boneless!!! 'd

2005-04-24T23:47:00.000-07:00

I went skateboarding tonight for the first time in forever. Its weird when it comes to skating, or a few other things like playing drums, tabletop RPing, or picking up an old Final Fantasy title, that while I'm not doing the activity, I really just don't want to, but when I reandomly do it, I wonder why I haven't done it more. Does that make any sense?

Its kinda like how a kid can have a toy ball, and will play with it and get bored, and then go play with a to truck. But if someone picks up the ball, the kid is all of the sudden attached to it again and starts crying. I think I'm like that with all sorts of stuff. Bad habit, but unavoidable.

School is beating me up like Ozma from FF9. I keep forgetting to sleep, or turning in papers a day late, or losing track of time. It is lame. I'm doing a bunch of fun things at a time when I really shouldn't be. I need to study. I need to get a 100% on my Systematic Theology final to get a B, and that is after I talked to Dr. Sutton (He pretty much is giving me a big chance just because me and him are prety good friends now and he doesn't want to see me get a C. What a nice kid.). I really need to write up a book report for my World Civilizations class, but I don't even have a book, and its 4 days late, and I believe 10% of my grade. Blargh. How did all this happen? I just had writers block for like one week, and it happened to be the week when all the papers were due.

Meh, I might be a bit reserved this week; it is not that I do not want to talk or hang out, it is that I need to concentrate on school. So if you could do me a favor, just kinda gimme some alone time this week, try to point me back to my studies if you see me doofin' around, and for the love of Jeebus, if your name is Steve Norton or Paul Anderson, PLEASE I say PLEASE don't level your characters too much while I'm stuck on my homework! -.-;;

¡Guacala!

2005-04-21T17:58:00.000-07:00

So I was just thinking about how much I hate sticky things. Just in general. To me, sticky is an inherently negative adjective. I just... blegh, stickiness makes me so frustrated, whether its glue on your hands, or syrup on your shirt, or aloe vera on a sunburn, or old milk on your arm, stick things just do not feel good.

Anyone else so perterbed by things sticky?

Hoo-ook-ed on pah-aw-nikes werrk-ed for meh!

2005-04-21T13:31:00.000-07:00

Y-O-U-R
Y-O-U-'-R-E
They're as different as night and day,
Don't you thing that night and day are different?
Whats wrong with you?
-Strong Bad

For real people. Learn to spell. It isn't that hard. Here's my lesson for the day:

There are two spellings for the word that sounds like "Yor." There are also two seperate definitions, as well!
Your = Possessive adjective. Means that a noun belongs to you. Your bike. Your love. I took your money. Where is your hat? Did you leave your brother in your house or your car?
You're = Conjunction for "you are." Used to abbreviate any situation when you would normally say "you are." You're going to the store. There is no telling where you're going. You're what? You're an asshole.

There are three spellings for the word that sounds like "Thehr." There are :gasp: also three definitions:
Their = Possessive adjective. Means that a noun belongs to they or them. Their car. Their sandwiches. Can you find their street? Their science project was better than mine. Whose team won the game, yours ot theirs?
There = Location. I.E.Not here, but there. Also, used as an expletive to start sentences. (Using "There" to start a sentence is frowned upon by real authors and poets. It sounds very unintelligent and... just sucks.) Look over there? There, I'm done! I'm going there. There are two words that sound like there. There is a gem hidden in the bush over there to the right.
They're = Conjuction for "they are." Use to abbreviate any situation when you would normally say "they are." They're coming how from school. That's where they're headed. Their paper that they're working on is on the table there.

There are three spellings for the word that sounds like "Tu." There are :not again!: three definitions:
To = Preposition, implies a destination. To which restaurant are we going? I'm telling you to leave. Go to the store, then to the library. I gave my book to Gregory.
Too = In addition. I am going to the store too. You got the new DVD too? This is too much for me to handle.
Two = Number. More than one, less than three. 1+1=two. Two apples. Two o'clock. You two are going to the dance too?

Isn't learning fun?

Stalemate

2005-04-19T09:48:00.000-07:00

Today in World Literature we talked about Samuel Beckett's Endgame. Its a play meant to be performed on a blackbox type stage. I did not find particular interest inthe play, but the concept behind it was rather captivating. Basically there are only four peopl int he play; one cannot sit, one cannot walk, and two live in trash cans. Strange indeed, the majority of the play is just everyone bickering at each other; it resembles the moves in chess during te endgame, fancy that. What struck me is the concept of life being like a game, especially akin to the parts of a chess game in which the victor is apparent, and the combatants must simply play out the last moves to finish the game, even though they know how well/poorly they will fare.

I haven't been doing as well at school as I would like. I have put off two very big tests in two classes, turning them in late. Sleep over the last week or two has been sporadic to say the least, and my FFXI time is dwindling. I'm looking forward to this summer, when my brother, my friend Paul, and myself can play FFXI together and have a swell time, with only work holding us back. Yes indeed.

Counter-Strike: Source has been my game of choice as of late. We had a quasi-LAN party last night. So much fun, and so many memories resuscitated. So far, I have convinced three people through both watching and playing that HALO is beyond pathetic in comparison to Half-Life and CS. It is so soothing to hear people say, "I can't believe it... this makes HALO look like Perfect Dark," or, "I'm buying this with my next paycheck." Good fun. A group of 4-5 of us are going to start a goofy clan soon. Should be excellent times.

Funk-ay

2005-04-16T20:25:00.000-07:00

So I'm trying to develop my musical taste. I'm finding that I like music with lyrics less and less. Just because I tend to see that in most music, the amount of emphasis on lyrics is conversely correlated to the amount of talent present music-wise. Today, after perusing Wherehouse Music for quite a long time with NickDon, I bought a funk CD by a band named 'Medeski, Martin and Wood.' I'm quite impressed. I think I might try to find more funk CDs.

I've always wanted to be in a funk band. We played a tad of funk in CRHS's jazz band, and we touch on funk in Nothing Wasted, but having just a jam-funk band would be almost parallel to having a geek-rock band in my eyes. Geez that would rule.

Anyone else listen to funk? Any good reccomendations for a greenhorn to the funk music scene?

|\|3\^/ J0|_||2|\|4|_

2005-04-15T08:38:00.000-07:00

So yes, I copied Dan and got a Blogger journal. I am debating completely abandoning my LiveJournal, but I think for sure this will be my new for-sure read-this-if-you-care-to journal.

Why? Because I am sick of all the stupid elitism in LiveJournal and Xanga. Everyone at this school talks in Xanganese; if you do not have a Xanga, therefore, you are by default out of the loop of current events and popular discussion. Everyone back home has a LiveJournal, but consistently complain about lack of updates and/or just add people to get a larger friends list. The same is true about Xanga, if not magnified. Even people who I really respect and I believe use their blogs for the good of society have talked to me about 'how many subscriptions they are up to today.' Pathetic. I have no desire to be glorified by numbers of friends/subscriptions.

Here's the deal: If you know me, or care about what I do, or have interest in what I have to say, please just visit this site at your leisure. I will post here not expecting things to be read by any certain group, and not expecting too many replies. But, I will also post here much more often, about things that are much more important to me, and just... more fun than the things I post on LiveJournal or Xanga. So, I'll get this out now and never bug you again, please read this if youy have time. I think it will be cool.

That said, I probably will not delete my LiveJournal or Xanga. I will however only use them to comment on peoples LJ or X, respectively. I doubt I will post substantially on either again. For those that will miss my bickering on _blues_ (LJ), my depressing journaling on thriftstore_war (LJ), or my poetry on Mr_Kamikaze(X), I apologize.

Thanks for reading, I hope you come back.

Emgee