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Sep 25, 2003

Yesterday Brynlee bragged that thanks to policy debate she could sit still for 10 hours working very hard at a rather mundane task.

I could never do such a thing. I think that if I could, I would understand the appeal of playing hide and seek on a well-traveled freeway. I can't even keep up with rather pleasant tasks for a long time without getting fidgety.

I went up to the R&B and finally talked to Rachel Votta (and Katie Stern, but that's another story) and she thought my architecture article was unmitigated crap but was too nice to say so. Now I have to rewrite it with a different focus. I can't at the moment; I've been preparing for my other assignment.

See, while I was there I mentioned that I was going to be at the Radiohead concert. I ended up being railroaded into writing an article on it. This is good because it's more in line with the sort of stuff I want to write, but it's also bad because their expectations are very high. They expect me to swing an interview with one of the notoriously reclusive band members using nothing but google and my natural powers of persuasion.

So in preparation I have a few e-mails flying about on the web, and I've been reading up on the band. I found this really cool feature on the radiohead website in which members of the band answer single questions from journalists via the internet. Some of the responses are really quite funny, like when some pretentious Flagpolesque writer asked whether Camus was a major literary influence and Thom Yorke replied, "maisy. chicken licken. dr seuss. err. very literary me."

But now I find myself thinking in loops and spirals to better understand what the hell these musicians are talking about and I can't sit down and think about architecture and focus and sense. I've been here much longer than is healthy for me because I can't sit still anymore. I'm also kind of getting the jitters because all that's in my stomach is granola and Vanilla Coke.

And now I went back and read some more of the questions and answers to refresh my loopy state of mind, which probably wasn't smart.

Anyway I made a very brash and confident answer to Brynlee that being able to sit still and focus for ridiculously extended periods would kill me in my chosen (or narrowed down or whatever) line of work, writing, but in actuality I can't really say I'm so sure. I know that I have to get this architecture thing done soon so that the Red & Black will love me, but I can't sit and focus and work at such humdrum material at the moment. Maybe if I could I would be a better writer or a better worker or a better person. But I can't and it's confusing because it's like I have no control over my own actions, it's just my body and 20 oz of caffeine running amok.

I always take a really long time to write things, what with revisions and thinking about phraseology and all that happy authorial nonsense. I may take hours to write a blog (I certainly have this time) and at least 10 minutes to write an e-mail. Why can't I bloody well sit still and hack away at it and get it done quickly?

I'm starting to feel kind of stir crazy, which is really the whole point of this post. I'm sure this writing reflects it a bit. It's far too late to be this far from home. I'm really hungry and I'm going to go get some food. I'll try to make sense of this later.
Nick ::: 6:30 PM ::: 0 comments

Sep 23, 2003

Tuesday Evening Update Part Three

You know what I hate? Running all the way up Baxter Street to go to the Red & Black offices, just to find out that no one I need to talk to is there.

I need to call people. If you don't mind me calling you, please tell me. I have lots of numbers but I don't want people to be weirded out when I call.

I really miss the drama girls. That particular fast-paced blend of pop culture, contextual humor, and really loud laughter is really absent in my life.

I got a 90 on my English test -- probably a lot better than I deserved. I don't know what I got on my Psychology test because I skipped Psychology.

I finished and turned in my architecture article -- yesterday. That's why I headed up to the office today, to check in and see what she thought. Of course, she's still not back from whatever weekend trip she's on. This means that (a) my article will not be going in any time soon but (b) she might not realize that I turned it in late.

Today's R&B carried an op-ed on being short. I'm very angry that my op-ed still hasn't gone in, but I can't seem to catch the op editor no matter how often I trudge up to the stupid building. Why she considers "I just realized that I am short" a more valuable use of space than "I can say extremely funny things about trendy clothing" is a mystery to me.

Brandonn was really really loud last night, but not late enough to be a real problem, and he made up for it this morning (see below). However, the sink is actually overflowing with his dirty dishes because he's decided not to put them in the dishwasher anymore. I just know that Robbie or I will end up moving them for him when we run out of something.

I'm pretty much out of food but I don't want to use my very last check unless I absolutely must. So I'll have to clean out a saucepan and heat up canned stew for a few evenings.

The Bulldogs lost to LSU. This is a huge disappointment. I was really beginning to believe we were invincible. Oh well, I'm still totally flush with newfound school spirit.

My dad is mailing the ethernet cable, so God willing I'll have the internet on my own computer soon. Then I'll be able to catch up on all the Homestar Runner stuff I've missed. I've avoided watching any of the new cartoons, with the exception of the new Teen Girl Squad, since I don't have any sound.

But sweet Jesus, it is the best TGS ever.

Lame Poem of the Week / This one's actually a song, but whatever.

My meager virtues hope to shine
I just can't stop 'til you are mine
I can't think straight with you around
To leap tall order single bound

I watch you, stalk you like a doe
You tell me, I already know
Why can't your mind work just like mine?
New rules of grammar, space, and time

Your heart is such a prize
Imprisoned by your eyes
Enchanted by your words
My vision starts to blur...

You're cradled snugly in my arms
I'm pinned down firmly by your charms
This feeble earthly grip of mine
Nothing like your heart-snares divine

Imprisoned by your eyes
They're blue just like the skies
I must seem so absurd
Enchanted by your words...

You want more from me every week
I'm gone, drawn in by your mystique
Trade's even, far as I'm concerned
Your love is worth it, I have learned

I cannot turn aside
Imprisoned by your eyes
Enchanted by your words
I must not be disturbed

Accomplishment of the Week
Getting my grubby paws on a copy of Hail to the Thief. Caroline's copy, actually. I wish Radiohead hadn't abandoned their tradition of cool, abstract album album titles for a political cliché, and I wish they spent more time on the grand, epic sweep of energy and emotion that characterizes their best songs. A lot of the stuff on Thief would benefit from more changes in dynamic and tempo. However, the gems on this album still shine. October 6th, baby! Who's with me?

Activity of the Week
Rereading the worst novels I brought with me. For some reason, I specifically picked out my least favorite books, mostly remnants of my misguided middle school years, and devoured them insatiably.

Professorial Idiocy of the Week
My Marine Science professor keeps up such a steady stream of idiocies that it's hard to distinguish one from the next. I'll write some of them down as they happen and report back later.




...I don't know why so few commented last time, but you'd better this time. Surely there's something in that mess of stuff you can reply to!
Nick ::: 4:48 PM ::: 0 comments

Wow. I should definitely be in Psychology right now.

This morning I got up and decided I was sick of waiting for my checks and ATM card to appear. This probably had something to do with the way I was down to one temp check and one dollar.

Resigning myself to disappointment, I went up the hill half an hour early so I could stop in at the office and ask if they'd gotten them. I wasn't disappointed. Well, I was, because there were no checks, but since I was expecting to be disappointed and I was, I wasn't disappointed. (See Cat, Shroedinger's)

The nice office lady told me the complex had been subjected to the services of a "temporary mail carrier" for two weeks. Apparently this person's major function had been not delivering mail, and much of the complex's correspondence was returned to the sender.

This made me wonder a bit about what sort of person could set about delivering mail to an apartment complex and fail. There's a big rack of numbered metal boxes with names on them. You have an envelope with a name and number on it. You match the name and number and put the envelope in the box.

Perhaps the temporary carrier didn't value her job very much. Perhaps all the numbers confused her. Perhaps she decided that she needed two weeks off from her temporary, two-week job.

Anyway, I was waiting at the bus stop when who should drive up but roommate Brandonn and his girlfriend. To my surprise and bewilderment, he offered me a ride to campus. This event has improved my estimation of him, and I now revert to the feeling that he wants to be a nice guy but doesn't realize how loud he is sometimes. I still wouldn't set up someone I liked on a date with him, but I'm abandoning my earlier malevolent feelings.

Tikiisha (I think that's how you spell it; Tequisha is too close to the drink for comfort) dropped me off at the library and I hoofed it over to Brooks hall, where Psychology is. However, I discovered that carpooling is a lot faster than the bus and I was an hour early.

I decided to use this hour to my advantage, and go up to the bank before class, instead of afterwards, and ask about the wayward checks. I also used my dollar to buy a 20 oz Vanilla Coke.

Sweet Nectar of the Gods, How Long Since I Last Tasted Your Divinity!

I then walked downtown and stopped by the SunTrust on Broad Street. I waited around for a while, then was informed that my checks and card had indeed been returned -- and summarily destroyed! I felt a little like Darth Vader and realized that the life of a monetary substitute can be perilous if you displease your masters.

I ordered new stuff free of charge, and thanks to the ineptitude of the temporary mail fumbler I have another week or so to wait. I'd better make this last check count!

With all my banking woes dealt with, I headed back toward Brooks Hall and my class. I chose a slightly longer route that took me through the scenic, oaky north campus quads rather than down crowded, narrow Lumpkin Street.

I was traversing a shady path next to the Law Library when I was attacked by a giant, ugly bee. It flew right into my face and thudded into the right lens of my glasses, then swiveled over on its thorax and came to rest on the inside of the lens. I made a noise like uhckk, removed my glasses, and flicked the thing off into the bushes.

That clinches it, I decided. I'm skipping Psychology.
Nick ::: 1:08 PM ::: 0 comments