QBM

virus?

2005-06-05T15:26:00.000-07:00

My computer hasn't been hooked up to the internet for about a month and a half (ever since I moved).

I turned it on, and a little pop-up came up.

It said "ThisIsTheHeaderofDallas".

There was a button which said 'buttonOfDallas' at the bottom.

I knew, I say, I knew there was something on my computer. grrr. Oh, well, I was planning on wiping it anyway.

summer

2005-06-04T13:26:00.000-07:00

I'm subletting. I sent a check for last months rent. It bounced. First time ever. The only thing I can think of is that I wrote the check, and the girl I'm renting from cashed it a week or two ago. Meanwhile, I happily took money out of my account. Fan*bleeping*tastic.

Oh, well.

My girlfriend is here for the summer. She's looking for work. I printed out a job application for working at a movie theater. It turns out the place has a theater in Cleveland, and in my old haunt of Goldsboro, North Carolina. wow. All I can say is "WTF?" I guess it's a small world, but I wouldn't have guessed it.

regards,
me

your purpose in life

2005-05-07T18:45:00.000-07:00

My dad went to a conference in NYC a few weeks ago.

It was about finding your purpose in life, and transcending the material image. He was disappointed the first day because the other people there were hippies, and he's definitely the mild-mannered Clark Kent type. But my mother urged him to stay for the second day, and it was what he was looking for. She didn't tell me what he had found, but she said it was good.

She watched one of the videos that he brought home. She said that transcending the false images and finding your true self was like salmon spawning. Thousands are born, but few make it. The analogy was off-beat, I'll admit, but that's how my mom is. Plus, she was on her bike, walking the dog and talking on her cell to me.

So, I was washing some dishes, and I thought, 'if the chance of success is so low, why bother at all?' The answer came right away 'if most don't make it, why do salmon swim upstream?' Because it's what they do.

I'm light as a feather

2005-04-30T20:53:00.000-07:00

Visited my girlfriend last weekend.

She has a scale in her house, I don't.

Since last I was there (it was a while...about 2 months) I've lost 9 lbs. or so. Perhaps, being a stats major, I should say '9 lbs. +/- 1 lb.' In any event, it was reading around 163 to 165, and now it said 153.5. The odd thing was, I thought I was gaining weight. Hopefully I'm only loosing muscle mass. Of course, in the long run, that's not so great, either.

Oh, well.

Today I found out my friend is getting divorced. She was the first girlfriend I ever had. Senior year of high school, but we became really close junior year. She was nice. She stayed in contact, but I felt sort of weird after she broke up with me my freshman year at college. It wasn't really a shock, I think we both knew it would probably occur, but it still kind of hurt. And then I wasn't really sure how to act towards her. I sort of got over it. She got married. My mom really liked her husband. He was a nice guy, but I must say that was really weird. I'm sorry that it didn't work out for her. Odd thing, though. I had a dream about her last night. She was in my house (actually, my parent's old one, when I was in high school). She brought this guy along, and I said 'it's nice to see you again' to him in the kitchen, but then I realized it was another guy. I realized because he looked down, and shifted his weight, uncomfortably. He wasn't the same guy, but was embarrassed to say so to me. He was sort of big and burly. Maybe he had a beard.

In the other room, where the piano eventually was, she kept kissing my head, and messing with my hair. Wet kisses, too. My mom thought it was great. I'm not sure how the guy felt about it. Nobody really seemed to mind, but me. I left. Then I was walking down a hill. There was a lawn, and then some trees pleasantly, widely spaced. It was clearly planned, but loosely. The sun was shining, and it was a beautiful spring day. Good for walking. I was going along a dirt road (in a grey suit, I think). I was thinking to myself that I couldn't go back, that I just needed some time to myself. In reality, the incident sort of unnerved me and made me uncomfortable. Then my alarm went off. I snoozed it, and my mom called (good thing, too 'cause I had to work). And she said that my friend was getting a divorce...

odd.

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

2005-04-26T19:42:00.000-07:00

6 x 9 = 42 mod (13)

Opening night for the Guide = Friday

(and a Happy Birthday, Laura)

Chudnovsky

2005-04-20T20:21:00.000-07:00

My mom sent me a New Yorker on the Chudnovsky brothers. There was an article in the New Yorker in '92 about them, and how they had built a super computer in one of their apartments via mail order. Took a while, and a lot of consideration, but they didn't have the money or backing to buy a souped up version. They were using it to computer pi to billions of digits.

Now they have a chair at a New York college, and have a new computer which they don't have a name for. The article names it "It". Their approach is the bad-ass approach they drew me to mathematics in the first place. Honestly, how can you do something so recklessly cool and useful and get away with it? It used to boggle my mind, but now I'm happy people like the Chudnovsky's exist.

Near the end of the article, it said that they were building a new super computer, code-named "C64" (it's better than Nintendo's N64!) with IBM for a "U.S. Government Agency". Right, boys and girls, let's all think aloud. N-S-A.

Who else employs high level mathematicians, buys extremely expensive supercomputers (general in the top, say, 1% in terms of computing power in the world) and is a government agency? They even say on their webpage 'the NSA employs the country's premier cryptologists. It is said to be the largest employer of mathematicians in the United States and perhaps the world.' Plus, from the book 'Body of Secrets' I know that they were the ones buy Cray computers left and right back when Cray was still around.

...Very Interesting...but Stupid!

Ernie's favorite number...

2005-04-07T21:12:00.000-07:00

...is 8,243,721.

A friend came through for me a day or so ago.

Also, I seem to be addicted to This American Life. I can never seem to find it on the radio, but it's at www.thislife.org.

strength or weakness?

2005-03-28T18:44:00.000-08:00

Sometimes someone's greatest strength is also their greatest weakness.

Take Achilles, for instance. He was impervious except for heel (the famous Achille's tendon). He one and only weakness, when hit there with an arrow, he died.

Yet, when his mother put him head first in the river Styx, she did not let go of the ankle. This caused the weakness, but she should not be completely blamed. The river Styx is very deep, and her child was a mere infant. If she let go, who knows where he would have ended up. It was a matter of faith just to submerge the baby that long under water. Also, what if Achilles had not resurfaced. He would have been like a god, yes, but not able to interact with the world of man. The weakness allowed him to do great deeds in this world. Some of the Trojans no doubt thanked his mother for her timidity.

Bert and Ernie's favorite numbers

2005-03-24T18:24:00.000-08:00

As a child of the 80's I grew up watching Sesame Street, Looney toons, Superfriends and He-man (but not G.I. Joe, because it was deemed too violent by my parents).

I remember the time on Sesame Street when they have to explain death to Big Bird because Mr. Hooper died. I think it actually happened in real life. Pretty couragous of them to not skirt the issue. That's why Big Bird has a picture of all Mr. Hooper on the wall behind his nest (although I haven't watched the show in almost 20 years, so who know's how what the show looks like now).

Anyhow, randomly they had a Bert and Ernie sketch, and Ernie asked Bert what his favorite number was. Bert said 6. Ernie, to needle him, said that was boring. Ernie's number was 9 or 10 digits long. I liked Ernie better, but couldn't remember his number, so 6 became my favorite number. But I still wonder what it is.

If there's anyone out there who reads this, drop me a comment about it (and no cheating and making up numbers, send me a link or something so I can verify it). I'd appreciate it.

notes from the white erase board

2005-03-21T15:56:00.001-08:00

I've been meaning to post two ideas which I want to take off my white erase board. I had both just before falling asleep a few nights ago.

The first is: Why wouldn't Data back himself up?
The second is: Sentient Vacuum Energy

Perhaps you've seen the latest Star Trek movie: Nemesis. At the beginning they find a planet with pieces of a spare Data on it (there were several Data androids made, and then "lost"). After they assemble the duplicate, Data downloads himself into it. The thought came all at once, why hadn't he done this before? Of course he wouldn't want another one of him running around, but why not put a back-up of his memories somewhere. Then I thought it would take up too much space. But his memory is currently contained within his neural network (which is roughly the size of his head). The computer on board the Enterprise seems to be fairly robust in size (as well as storage capacity), so it would be theoretically possible. He could even encrypt it.

The second thought was just a random thought which sounded cool. I'll probably do nothing with it. But fleshed out, it might make a neat sci-fi story some day.

weather the whether will work

2005-03-21T15:56:00.000-08:00

Last two days have been overcast and gray. There have been spots of rain. That's not quite accurate. Really, I've felt a drop every so often as I've been walking.

Today the wind picked up and the temperature decided that it was a good time to drop. HA! said March, I'm not quite sure I'm going out like a lamb!

I've been taking some pictures around campus. The things that interest me. Like the tree which has an interesting top. It goes sideways for a little while and then up again. I think it bent by wind and ice, but it keeps stretching upwards. I like its resilence.

conspiracy

2005-03-20T19:04:00.000-08:00

There seems to be some sort of conspiracy going on this semester.

I have just become aware of it. The conspiracy has to do with keeping me in windowless rooms with florescent lights.

Perhaps that has something to do with why I've been feeling depressed.

good day

2005-03-17T19:30:00.000-08:00

It actually started last night. I finished a homework set and felt good about it. It only took me about 3 and a half hours, and I did it with another student in the department. I then went home and blew off the rest of the night. I didn't get to bed until after 2 a.m., which worried me.

It took me a while to wake up in the morning, but I got to class on time. I normally dread Thursdays. It seems like there is a conspiracy somewhere to keep me in rooms with no outside light or windows. Florescent lighting forever.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays I have 2 classes back to back. Tuesdays they are right next door to each other, but on Thursday one is in the basement of another building. Today I really enjoyed the lecture. It wasn't anything special, and the first part confused me (along with everyone else in the class). However, the minor changes made all the difference. Normally, the teacher keeps the lights off, lectures from notes on a projection screen, and there's no place to right when you print out the notes. This time she kept the lights on, left some blanks between main concepts, and wrote a ton on the board. I don't know why, but it appears I'm wired to learn that way. The teacher writes on the board, and I put it in my notes.

Also, I actually got some computer code to work. The output wasn't pretty, but was actually usable. I've been working there for 3 or 4 weeks, and feel I am running in place. I am slightly worried that I won't be hired for the summer, because I haven't gotten any major results. But today I did!

Yeah!

The last good thing was that I was going to drop a class. It is a required class (meaning I'll be taking over the summer), but I haven't been properly studying or putting in the requisite effort to get good grades (my first test was atrocious). After talking to everyone, it seemed like a good idea to let it go and do it properly over the summer. However, in talking with my advisor I realized I could potentially audit the class (since I can't get any refund on the money I've paid already). The only kink is that tomorrow is a test which I am really not prepared to take. I won't be taking it, but I'm worried that it will look bad (like I blew it off). I did email the prof, but we'll see what happens tomorrow.

18 o'clock

2005-03-17T15:33:00.000-08:00

For some random reason, the clock on my iMac suddenly decided to be in 24 hour mode, thus displaying 18:34 instead of 6:34. When I went to change it back, the 12 hour mode was still selected. I selected it again, and it went back to regular old 6:34 p.m.

Tuesdays

2005-03-15T21:21:00.000-08:00

Tuesdays are always draining.

I have 2 back-to-back classes, each 75 minutes long. That's a little rough. 50 minutes is a good length (why didn't they make that = 1 hour?). The second class always has a 3 minute break about halfway through, which helps a lot. Plus the material doesn't seem so heavy (in that I can figure out what is going on as the material is presented, instead of afterwards, while I'm doing the homework).

Went to the Comic Swap today. You can get 5 comics for $2.12 (including tax), so long as you're willing to take a chance on the used comics in the back. Nothing new. I'd say about 40% mainstream superhero related. They tend to have runs (i.e. 30 of the same comic, same issue). I tend to go for what looks good, what intrigues me, and the truly horrible (for example, William Shatner's Tekwars). Since I'm more interested in the story than in the condition it suits my style (that and the fact that new comics are between 3 and 5 bucks...no deal there).

...although I must say, I like what they're doing in the current line of Superman comics (let's see...what are they? Adventures of Superman, Action Comics, and 2 others, I think). Taking a line from Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns, Superman is basically a demi-god. This got me to thinking, if he has god-like powers, why can't he be a force for good on the world-wide scale? I mean, in the comics, he always seems to be using his brawn to pound enemies through buildings (or be pounded himself). But he has so many other great powers which are vastly under-utilized. Check it out...Super speed, X-ray vision, heat vision (a very nasty nasty weapon), Super hearing (not much, but still interesting...how does he deal with hearing everything in a 100 mile radius?) and flight. At least his costume lives up to the powers. Man, with that kind of power, I'd totally wear spandex in eye-catching colors. You'd be a walking target, but *heh* what do you care?

Anyhow, I've got the germ of a story in the back of my mind, but it hasn't gone anywhere. Maybe one day it will. Maybe one day it will get finished and actually published. HA! In my dreams. I do hope to finish it one day and post it as fan art, though.

in any event, today I splurged and bought 10 comics. 5 in a series called 'Kissing Chaos', which was angsty, but interesting, and 5 others (2 in a 6 part series on the origins of a Poison Ivy character...if not Poison Ivy, then a derivative...well done, I thought, and for $4.24, can't beat it).

I love Nigerian bank spam

2005-03-14T16:20:00.000-08:00

As a grad student, I get a decent amount of spam (That's righ, SPiced hAM). My favoriteis the Nigerian Bank spam. The set-up always follows a theme. Poor Mr. So-and-so has died in a car/plane crash along with his family. He left X number of millions in the bank. There are no next of kin. In "desperation" the person in charge of dealing with this money (lest it be repatriated to their contry) has searched the internet and found me. (I never thought of this before, but how unpatriotic of them!)

They wish to get the money, for which I will receive a cut. All I need to do is grant them the use of my bank along with all my secret code numbers (HA!).

Here is what I have been offered:

millions of dollars % to me
17 30
32.5 35
17 40
25.5 35
45.5 25
10.5 40

There was also the insultingly small offer of $750,000 for which I was to get 50%. My email reply to this one was that I only could accept $17 million dollar offers or above.

this morning

2005-03-14T10:35:00.000-08:00

I did not sleep to well. I woke up early. The sun was shining nicely, but I felt as if I should sleep later. I lunged for my alarm...it was set for 9 p.m., so I reset it and tried to go back to sleep, with little success.

Then I took a shower. At one point I dropped the soap. As it slipped out of my right hand, I put out my left, palm up, fingers slightly open. It bounced off, and continued on its way to the floor. It only fell about 3 feet, but before it was halfway down I had already thought "if you had only closed your fingers, you could have caught the soap."

college prank

2005-03-12T21:06:00.000-08:00

Here is cautionary tale of a college prank. A harmless prank, from a certain point of view.

My friend, who will safely remain anonymous, was living in senior housing his last year (this is completely not suprising, as he was a senior). There are two types of senior housing on campus. There are the apartments and the houses. The apartments are up near the old gym (and now new athletic center), the houses are essentially off campus (you have to cross a street and walk through some woods to get to them).

My friend, like myself, was living in the apartments. His friends, who will also go unnamed, were living in the houses. One day, they deccided that their decore was rather sparse and unimaginative. Recently a new chair had materialized in one of the more eccentric dorms on campus. They decided to liberate it (i.e. "borrow" it) until the end of the year.

They patiently plotted their crime, and one night entered the building at 3 a.m. when they had calculated the security guards would be switching rounds and not be around for a good hour or so (I made a similar mistake for an April fools joke once around 5 a.m., but like my friends, was not caught). One of them swiped their ID card and they made their speedy entry, removed the object of their nighttime foray, and left quickly.

Now, here is the cautionary part of the tale. Many students on college campuses give little thought to their student IDs. They are a small bit of plastic which allows them to enter dorms, deduct points from their meal plan, and buy books at the college store (also, they are fairly aerodynamic, but do not do well when thrown against a wall). However, they serve as an interesting lesson in student privacy rights. Every time the card is swiped, somewhere on campus a computer records the date, time, location, and (if a purchase is made) the amount spent. In the old days, when say, the frat brothers from Animal House wanted to steal the underwear of a sorority, all they had to do was pick the lock and move in stealthily. Now, all one has to do is swipe ones ID card. HOWEVER, the university has proof that you were near the scene of the crime at or near the time the crime was first noticed. You become suspect priority number 1.

So it was with my friend and his friends. They successfully made off with the chair. What must have been only a minute or so later a security guard made his usually rounds and noticed the chair missing (it was, afterall, only a week or so old, and a great to-do had been made over its purchase. The dorm was very proud of it). The crime was reported, and swift action was taken (early the next day).

The chair, meanwhile, was happily being hauled to my friend's apartment. The apartment was closer (perhaps only a 10 minute walk with the chair). They put it in the entrance way/mudroom of the apartment with every intention of retrieving it the day after to take it to the houses (they may even have driven it to the apartment, so as to avoid detection along the way). Everyone congratulated each other and celebratory drinking began.

The next morning my friend's friends were groggily coming into consciousness in their house. One of them was unconsciously sprawled across his bed. Another had regained some state of non-sleep, and had shuffled downstairs into the kitchen. He was poking the coffee machine with a fork in the vague hope that it knew what he wanted when the head of housing burst in. The coffeeman, it should be noted, was wearing nothing but his boxers.

She came in flying, hoping mad. Shouting that she knew they did it, she tore through their house. It took them a little while to register that she was looking for the chair. She searched everywhere, but of course it wasn't there. Then she pointed an accusing finger at them once more, and stormed out. The housemates were visibly shaken. Later that day, they met with her. She said that no charges would be pressed if the chair re-emerged. They convened at my friend's place, and thought about what to do. They put the chair, after a little consideration, behind a nearby dumpster. It was spotted by a passing campus patrol car several hours later (after it had begun to drizzle). My friend's friend confessed, and my friend, not wanting him to go it alone, became the sole accomplis. Their card privleges for going into dorms was revoked for the remainder of the year. They were put on probation, and told not to be seen in any dorms for the remainder of the semester.

The moral of the story is that they did not have an alibi. Perhaps if they had gone in several hours earlier, cooked something in the kitchen, and then watched a movie in the basement, they would have been off the hook. Like the Great Train Robbery, planning is everything.

As a side note, they looked on the internet and discovered that the chair was worth several hundred dollars, which represented a major part of the funds of the dorm at that time, hence the reaction of the head of housing.

break

2005-03-12T18:38:00.000-08:00

tomorrow is the last day of my spring break.

Then it is back to the grindstone.
I'm not really looking forward to it, but perhaps when school starts again I will get in the swing of things.

The drive back from CT. is long and boring. You go on 95 through New York. Then you get on route 80 in New Jersey and are on it for the next 4 hours. The weather was good. There were some snow flurries around the exit on 80. I did see one accident. It looked like someone had tried to shift lanes and had spun sideways. Then a tractor trailer had hit them slightly. It didn't look like the car had much damage. The driver might have been shaken, but I didn't see anyone in the car as I drove by. There was another car stopped slightly before, and a second tractor trailer right after, so I didn't stop (a car stopped as I was just passed them). Since I no longer have a cell phone, and don't know how to treat someone in shock I didn't think I could do much good.

When I got back, I unloaded my car. There were some women at the other doors. I opened them and they said they were there to see some friends. They were wearing skirts in a modest style (lots of black) and had name badges on that identified themselves as being from something like "Christ Church". They were going to the 300's, which they didn't know was on the third floor. I got in the elevator with them. They asked me my name, and I told them. They introduced themselves as Sister so-and-so. I can't remember exactly. It might have been Mary and somebody else. They were slightly attractive and about my age (although probably a little older). My first thought was that the one talking to me was attracted to me. But then I thought she was probably looking to convert me. She asked me were I come from. I told her I had been in Connecticut. She asked if I were British. I said no, but I had been listening to a book on tape narrated by a Brit (it was a Douglas Adams book, but done by a Brit with a really nasal accent, who really ruined the effect for me). I was tired and not really interested in whatever she wanted, so only half-smiled when she made some minor joke about it before getting off the elevator.

Other people have asked me if I'm British. This happened randomly twice when I went to Walmart in North Carolina. There was a military base in the town, so it wasn't that far out of a question. And I can be proper and somewhat stiff-upper lip in how I come across when I want. The times it happened, I walked in (both times) random people came up to me almost immeadiately and asked "are you British?" I said no, but it was a little disconcerting to be read that way. I've been read as French as well, but that was in Greece, and I was trying to be French so as to avoid being approached by flower sellers (aka dodgy characters who were somewhat criminal...I know this because they shielded their faces when my brother began taking pictures of them). But that's another story for another time.

Jerry Springer for senate?

2005-03-09T16:11:00.000-08:00

I really like This American Life, the radio show hosted by Ira Glass from WBEZ Chicago (look, I can even say it from memory!). I have reccently discovered that you can listen to back shows on www.thislife.org.

I tend to overdose, but this time I didn't. If you check our show #258 (first aired 1/30/04) you'll hear the suprising other side to Jerry Springer, and how he might be running for the Senate at some point.

To quote one of his friends (and political advisor/aid) "Information is received in inverse proportion to its predictability."

On another note, here is what I have accomplished over the break so far:

Monday:
Suprised myself by getting up a 8 a.m.
Worked 2 hours in the office, got results (possibly good result, too)
Had a nice lunch
Did a bunch of errands, including returning books on tape, and paying some over due fines at the library
Organized my notes (which have not been put in order for about 3 or 4 weeks)
Worked out at the gym
ran results to help me in correcting some mistakes on a test I made

Weather: mid-60's, spring-like, slightly chilly breeze
Productivity level: Very High

Tuesday:
Got up reluctantly.
Attempted work at the office for an hour (only accomplished getting a user name and password for the computers)
had lunch
went to counseling (decently productive, she told me to do something fun for the break...good advice)
used gift certificate at the dairy bar (good ice cream, but best is still from Muenster, Germany)
mopped a bit, rented Samurai Fiction.
procrastinated and went to bed.

Weather: Really really cold, high-level evil, piercing winds, dusting of snow in the late morning
Productivity level: Sub-sub par

Wednesday:
Got up after a few failed attempts (the bed was so warm).
Mopped around, did some errands, filled up car's gas tank, and returned video.
Talked to my mom.
Found online application to get a replacement title for car (which I've lost), and got it notarized.
Took pictures of campus which I've been meaning to take.
Put things in living room to be packed.
wrote this list.
(Still to do: call friends, pack up car)

Weather: Still really really cold and windy, kept outdoors activities to a minimum
Productivity: mid-level. Decent

a clarification on a political issue

2005-03-09T07:47:00.000-08:00

I have heard repeatedly by liberals that they just *don't* understand conservative Christians. It seems what they really want is for the conservative Christians to explain themselves from the liberal Democrats stand point. The liberal Democrats want to start from their assumptions and world-beliefs and get to the conservative Christian view of things.

I think this is impossible.

It suprises me that people don't realize this (but then again, it suprises me that people don't know that there are 5,280 feet to the mile...so I guess I'm acting like my liberal Democrat friends).

Anyhow...I just wanted to share something I've heard.

People say that conservative Christians sound hypocritical. They oppose abortion, but support the death penalty. From one standpoint this sounds like you support killing in one instance but not the other. However, view it differently. Start from the standpoint of responsibility for one's actions. From that viewpoint it makes a lot of sense. If you must take responsibility, then if a girl gets pregnant, she should face the consequences and have the child. Similarly, if someone commits egregious murder, then they should take responsibility for their actions, and be given the ultimate punishment, namely the death penalty.

People can still disagree with this view point, but I wanted to put it out there so that if someone happened to come upon this, they might at least get a chance to understand (instead of just saying "I don't understand" and then going on their merry way).

Dream

2005-03-09T07:26:00.000-08:00

I had an odd dream last night.

I dreamt I was in a giant airplane. A 747, or the new Airbus. I was sitting with my girlfriend and this other girl. This guy came around and told me to watch out for the drink (it was a medium sized McDonald's cup 2/3rds full of semi-flat luke-warm diet Coke). It was percher precariously in a drink holder. It didn't quite fit. He also reminded me not to forget his lawnmower. I said ok, I wouldn't.

The girl explained (after he left) that he had a collapsable lawn mower (the push kind without a motor). It was new and shiny. She said he had to wait until everyone was on board before boarding because the airline industry had to inspect it (since it was made of metal. He had been the last to board. We flew. I said something. I meant to say it to my girlfriend, but I said it to the other girl. I explained this to them, they didn't mind.

When we got near the airport, we flew very low. We slowed down, and were flying very very slowly between trees. It was actually a field cut out in a mountain (one they clear so that power lines can go through). They revved the engines at one point to keep afloat. They were using a computer to guide the airplane around the trees on the sides. I kept waiting for the engines to rev up and for us to take a steep ascent up and over the trees. We didn't. We got closer and closer to a telephone poll. I thought we would have to go over it, but we just got very close to it. I wondered what was going to happen.

I guess I couldn't think of anything because I woke up at that point. That's the second time in a week or so I've had a dream with my girlfriend in it.

work

2005-03-07T09:35:00.000-08:00

My brother visited yesterday. We went and had Indian food at Masala (it's really good, I highly recommend it). We also visited his friend from his undergrad days.

She had a scholarship as an undergrad (and is now a grad student). Her family was responsible and had saved up for her tuition, but she didn't need it. So using the undergrad money she put a big down payment on a nice condo nearby. They figure it will appreciate in value (she's going to be here in for another 3 to 4 years). A good investment.

A nice part of the place is that she has her own bedroom and her own study. So, she said, certain books never enter her bedroom (allowing her to differentiate *fun* space from her work space). I've had trouble recently working in my room. I have a desk, but it's difficult to get things done here. I remember what I thought as a junior. The room they give you in the dorm is used as a living room (friends come by, you watch movies, play video games). It's also used as a bedroom, and a study (and, illegally, as a dining room). In any normal house, these are all different rooms. No wonder I can't get anything done in my room.

At least I have a kitchen.

snow

2005-03-07T06:02:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, there was a good deal of snow on the ground. Granted, it was melting, but there was still 2-3 inches over the ground.

I woke up today and there is grass showing. There are still piles of snow from plows, but it seems to be slowly disappearing.

Like spring has arrived. I wonder if it will stay?

Sideways

2005-03-06T14:48:00.000-08:00

I saw Sideways with my brother yesterday.

It's good to be a student and get 5 buck tickets.

For five dollars, I would say it's worth it. However, it seemed very unpolished (sort of like Napoleon Dynamite, which was also made by Fox Searchlight Pictures).

It was ok in the beginning, decent in the middle, and really good at the end. This sort of reminds me of Rushmore. Everyone raved about that movie, too. I didn't see what was so great until the very very end. Then I thought it was really really good.

Also, I have met the girl who played Cammi (the waitress at the end. The groom-to-be leaves his wallet at her house). She's the daughter of my mom's friend. This claim to fame is analogous to the Far Side cartoon. The one where everyone is looking at the famous picture, and a woman in the back says "my boy made the frame." (Or, to quote the Family Guy "a swing, and a miss".)

My mom had mentioned that you don't see anything but a 'luscious thigh'. I was expecting to see a picture of a bent leg, starting at the knee and panning sideways until you got to the thigh. No clothes, but no real skin.

So, I was sort of suprised when it was a bedroom shot, and you could half see the actual nakedness. Interestingly, my mom, who is an artist (and notices proportions) said that she saw a tattoo (every once in a while I notice things like this...the other day I saw a very tall, skinny girl who I quickly realized had a head too small for her body).. However, being males, my brother and I sort of missed it. My brother speculated that it was a plot all along to roll the groom-to-be, and both "Cammi" and her husband in the film were in on it. I'm not so sure about this, but it is an interesting suggestion/read on that part of the plot.

Very good movie, especially (or in particular) at the end. High kudos to Paul Giamatti (who was also in American Splendor...I'll get around to seeing that, and reading the comics one of these days).

online comics

2005-03-04T21:32:00.000-08:00

I used to read Narbonic while I was an undergrad. It's still around, and still nutty (but good).

I got hooked because the web-cartoonist used to do cartoons in our school newspaper. The paper was better than the average college newspaper, but I think the comics were by far the best.

Also in my undergrad years I got hooked to Sluggy Freelance. I suggest starting with the early strips, or the viewer acclimation guide. Lots of story arcs, one of the web's better online comics.

Now-a-days, besides Sluggy, I have started reading Piled Higher and Deeper. It's about 4 grad students. Since I'm a grad student, I can sort of relate.

Get Fuzzy is also enjoyable (although often high on the strange level).

Through "Get Fuzzy" I've recent Barkeater Lake and (my personal favorite at the moment) Pearls before Swine.

looking back

2005-03-04T15:39:00.000-08:00

I was walking to class on Wednesday (when I have to get up by 7 a.m., which is rough by my schedule). I thought "I really regret not joining the army when I had the chance".

Actually, if I had joined it would have been for the navy in a nuclear sub (or for Strategic Space Command! (que dramatic music) had I known about it in high school).

Working in a mountain...that would be dope.

...anyhow, I didn't join. Partially because my friends said "don't join the army! What're you thinking?!? You don't want to do that!" and partially because it slightly scared me (do you end up a brainwashed patriot? do you lose all of your free will?)

During the past summer, when I had just started dating my girlfriend, she and I and a whole bunch of people went to NYC because one of our friends was going to be there for about 24 hours (she normally lives in Atlanta, so it was a rare treat). I never felt that close to her, but she was friends with a lot of the people I was, and she was nice.

Anyhow, we all ended up having a picnic in central park. It was a beautiful day. We didn't really do anything but talk. That irked me, but only slightly. Eventually the conversation led to what we were doing with our lives, which became more of 'What Do You Want To Do With Your Life'. My dad asks me this every so often, and I've reached a state where it triggers a zen-like sense of none-feeling in me. I'm asked that question, I look inside, and all I see is a state of white blankness. Like in Star Trek IV where the computer asks Spock 'how do you feel?' and he just raises an eyebrow and confesses that he does not understand the question.

Anyhow, my friends turned to me next and said 'what about you?' And I said, truthfully, that I was thinking of joining the military. This met with immeadiate indignation and outrage (my girlfriend even slapped me lightly, 3 times...it didn't really hurt, but it did shock and suprise me). One of my friends didn't say anything. He has a bit of a different political stance than the others, but is smart enough to keep his head down when it's pertinent.

During the rest of the weekend another of my friends (what the hell, I'll call him Z to make it easier to read), went out of his way a few times to talk to me about how the army lied to people, messed up, killed and maimed innocents for the sake of American imperialism (he didn't say that, but it's basically what he meant).

...Still, the desire to have joined comes back to me every once in a while. It's a nagging doubt that won't go away.

On the flip side, early this year (or rather last semester) I went to a job fair, and passed an army recruiter. We talked, and I went in for an interview. In the end, it turned out that, at my age, I would be more suited for the reserves (and if I were smart about it, I probably wouldn't be shipped out). I realized that joining the army was like working at McDonald's. I knew I could do it, and be a success at it. It was relatively easy (in boot camp all you have to do is follow orders and shout 'Sir, yes Sir!' a lot). It probably wasn't ever the path for me, but it was an easier path than going to college, or going back to grad school. The pressure was pretty high, and there was no clear indication that I would be a success.

sleep

2005-03-02T06:43:00.000-08:00

So my girlfriend and I are taking a little time off.

It's probably for the best.

I've discovered the major problem in my wacky, but hectic schedule this semester: sleep.

I haven't been getting enough of it all semester long. Yesterday I felt great. A little wierd, but good, because I was rested. The day was draining and emotionally exhaustive, but I felt ok. I could have gone to sleep at 9 p.m., but was opposed to it. 'Real grown-ups' go to bed later, so I can't go to bed at 9, is what I thought. One of these days I'm going to get it into my skull that if you're tired, and have the opportunity to sleep, you should.

I woke up today at 7 a.m. I was not a happy camper. Hopefully I will be able to take a nap later today, or at least wake up enough to function without feeling slightly drunk. (Scientists have done some studies and say that sleep deprivation is like being drunk. Having experimented on myself during college, I would say that that is both true and accurate).

I have two homework sets due tomorrow. One of them I'm almost done with, the other requires a lot of work. Hopefully I will be able to finish it with a minimum of fuss.

Dios mio...I can't wait for Friday.

AVP

2005-03-01T21:08:00.000-08:00

So I was having a bit of a rough day, and decided to rent something fun, "light", a little over the top, but enjoyable. Sort of like "The Mummy". I came across Alien vs. Predator, and thought why not? The reviews said it was aweful, but I decided to see for myself.

The problem with the movie wasn't that it was bad (I was expecting that), but that it was disappointing.

The visuals were very pretty. The characters were predictable, but in a nice way. There was the hard-ass girl/leader, the nice guy with a family, the archeologist, and the really old and rich guy who wants to be the best/first at everything, and gets every one in trouble because of it (sort of a la Jurassic Park style). Oh, yeah, and about 40 or 50 expendable characters.

They arrive in Antarctica slightly ahead of the Predators (messing up the Predators hunt the aliens set-up for the Predators), and like the boy scouts, the humans come prepared. Not with things you'd normally bring to survive the Antarctic, such as proper clothing, tents or food and supplies, but a small, but respectable amount of guns.

The Predators arrive shortly thereafter and kill a bunch of innocent people for no real reason except that they're in the way.

Then the humans who are underground in a pyramid trip an automatic switch, the alien queen is robotically winched up from being cryogenically frozen, and the disappointment begins.

Why? Not because of the neat maze of a pyramid, with some (fairly lame) trap doors, and a nifty way of reconfiguring itself every 10 minutes (and by the way, did you know the Aztec's had a base 10 number system? The things you learn by watching movies...although I think that that's inaccurate/wrong). Anyhow, it was mainly because the director and/or writer(s) decided that the aliens were way way cooler than the Predators. Within about 7 minutes of the aliens showing up, all but 3 or 4 of the humans were dead, along with 2 or the 3 Predators.

Now, killing off 3/4 of the humans would have been fine with me. However, killing off the ones that had a back story (albeit, extremely flimsy ones)? I was betting the guy with kids was going to die, and the other guy trapped in the maze with him...well after he admitted to having kids, I knew he was going to go too. But the girl who brought along the sidearm? And was given the witty line "It's like a condom. I'd rather have it and not need it, then need it and not have it."? She should have done at least a little more damage to the architecture. And I was really betting on the guy who, at the first wimper of danger, shook his bag a little, and out popped a stocky, but lethal, looking semi-automatic weapon. And what about the old guy, shouldn't he survive? He was ill after all and looked like he was going to die without any need of assistance. Shouldn't he be given some guilt in his old age? And what about the Italian archeologist? Well, he survives the longest (and only, it seems, because he flirts with the main girl, and appears to be a potential love interest).

I was even more disappointed with the Predators. Two of them bite the dust with as much resistance as the humans (i.e. none). They do get shot at by the humans, and stroll off non-chalantly thus establishing a hierarchy...the humans die easily, the Predators should put up a fight. Except that when the aliens arrive, the Predators roll-over and take it...well, like aliens.

Now, the humans did set off the auto-system by stealing the Predators shoulder-guns, but the Predators brought along their retractable spears, those nets which cut through bone, their knife/claws as well as their invisible armor (which on the Predator's world is silly to have because they see in the infrared, and the suits only disguise you in the visible spectrum). So I was ready for some good splattering effects (especially since the aliens have acid for blood). But even though the Predators have new weapons in the shape of spinning blades, which expand out into twirling knives-o-death, there was only 1 good Predator killing alien scene (the last one, where the Predator leaps past the mother alien, turns sideways as he's passing her and throws a spear into her).

So, I was deeply disappointed.

But my theory still stands. I thought (way before I saw this) that there were only making this movie because they couldn't make any straight Alien movies any more. The first (alien) was a sci-fi classic. Aliens, the sequel, worked because instead of one there were thousands of aliens. Alien 3 went back to the basics, with a twist (Sigourney Weaver has to fend-off a bunch of violent cons AND fight the alien). Unfortunately, 3's the charm, and 4 really was aweful aweful (not only do they clone Sigourney Weaver to bring her back from the dead, but they have 'variety' alien show, a la Gremlins 2). But there have been 2 good Predator movies, and so someone thought "we haven't tanked that franchise yet, let's tap that idea". And thus does 2 perfectly good horror/sci-fi/action series come to a grisly end. R.I.P.

right now

2005-02-28T15:59:00.000-08:00

I'm feel a lot less stressed out.

I do have a test tomorrow.

I'm not sure what else I can do to study for it. I'm going to do more of the homework problems (I seem to be able to do them, but am making a lot of careless errors for some reason).

I really really hope I do really well because it is only 25% of my grade.

We'll see...

on the girlfriend front, I'm going to talk to her on Tuesday (err...tomorrow). We'll see how that goes. I miss having little silly emails sent to me, but I feel less pressure/stress. It's not a bad relationship, it just seemed to be taking up a huge portion of my time and energy. Perhaps I'm deluding myself. Then again, perhaps I'm not. I do know that if I come back to her, I will basically have to go into debt proving I love her. Dios mio.

Well, we'll see.

and another thing

2005-02-26T22:27:00.000-08:00

Why the hell do all the blogs on blogger suck?

I hit the 'next blog' button. I get either a crappy political blog, a new blog, a blog selling something (usually car insurance), or one that is heavily over-designed and spouts cute little pop-up windows with annoying sayings and obnoxious music.

[sarcasm]Oooohhhh...Blogsphere...you're shiny power holds me in awe.[/sarcasm]

WTF

2005-02-26T22:16:00.000-08:00

I'm going nuts from work.

I have four classes with homework due every week.

It seems to be killing me (I thought I was depressed, but I'm really just very stressed out).

So I thought...*bright idea* I'll break up with my girlfriend.

Well...she won't have it. She refuses to let me go without a hard fight (what the hell is this? we aren't exactly married).

My friend told me I was lucky. ...Perhaps.

I've decided f*ck it, I'm growing a beard.

Here's the advice I've solicited from various parties:
From the teacher of the class I'm currently bombing, but am required to take: Hang in there, stick it out. You've invested 6 weeks, another 6 or 7 won't kill you.
From my advisor: There is still time until the late drop, stick it out.
(I could take it during the summer, but then I wouldn't really get an internship...although I've started working for this guy in another department, who, I think, will pull through for me summer-wise...but my advisor doesn't know this yet).
my dad: restructure how you spend your time, and it will work out (he went through my schedule with me, and it's a good plan...except it does not deal with the current 2-ton load of homework plus test (only 25% of my grade) I have due this coming week).
A friend: If I dropped the class I'm doing poorly in, I would have to take it during the summer.
Another friend: Drop the class, take some time away from the relationship/girlfriend, recover my life a little.

I wish I could go to sleep.

new spam

2005-02-26T11:51:00.000-08:00

Recently, I've been getting a lot of spam to my university web email. It all revolves around porn. But not just any porn, porn involving cheating housewives.

Now, I can see how that is could be a fantasy to some people, but I'm really not interested. At first I was mistified. What had I done to get on these mailing lists? Nothing as far as I could tell. But then I realized that all of Penn State was getting them.

I miss the old Nigerian-fraud spam. That was so much more fun.

this week

2005-02-25T17:49:00.000-08:00

By Wednesday, I upgraded this week from bad to sh*tty status.

But, then I thought, 'that's not fair, the week's only half over.'

But, yeah, the status holds.

Can't wait for Spring Break 2005

2005-02-24T19:34:00.000-08:00

I'm looking forward to it.

Not that I'm going anywhere special (I might make it to Connecticut, or beautiful *smirk* Troy, New York).

No, I'm looking forward to it because I will get some rest, and hopefully catch up with my studies.

The pattern of the semester seems to be this:
My girlfriend arrives late on Friday night. I get a little work done before, but not much.
I do nothing Friday, Saturday and Sunday.
Sunday she leaves, and I might (if I'm lucky) get a little work done).
Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday I work work work. I finish one homework set, and begin the next. I live for the assignments. That and going to class.
Thursday night I do the homework for my easy class on Friday, which I really like (partly because it's easy, partly because it's theoretical math about the stuff I learned last semester on the fly and informally).
I go to classes on Friday, muck around on my computer and wait for my girlfriend to arrive.

Then the cycle starts again.

Hopefully I can break it. I've just started work which will consume any and all free time I might have in between classes. But I also might be dropping a class (and perhaps taking it in the summer). That would be dandy.

(Truth be told, I would have liked a little more work last semester, and a little less this one).

Obi-wan aka "Smooth operator"

2005-02-23T17:49:00.000-08:00

Get this... Anakin Skywalker aka Darth "I'm bad" Vader has recently gone over to the dark side. The Republic is falling, the Jedi are being killed off like flies. In short, the kaka is hitting the fan.

Obi-wan Kanobi takes the twins, Luke and Leia and hot tails it to the far side of the galaxy. But where to hide them? I know, he thinks (for ever quick-witted is he). That apprentice-gone-wrong of mine will never find them here! So he puts Leia in the hands of a very public, high-powered Senator! Yes, folks, only the whole galaxy knows where she is!

Luke is a bit of a puzzle, but then... a true inspiration. I will hide him, thinks Obi-wan, with his father's half-brother. That's right, I'll put him with his uncle! Darth will never find him here!

Oh, Lordy!

Imagine...
ring, ring!
Owen picks up: hello?
Darth Vader: Yo, Owen! It's me, how's the half-bro doin'?
Owen: Whassssssupppppp!
Darth Vader: WAZZZsssuuupppppp!!!!
Owen: Yo, man, when you coming to visit?
Darth: Man, I can't, I too busy enslaving this planet.
Owen: Ah, man, you never come by!
Darth: Hey, what's that noise in the back ground?
Owen: Baru is spanking Luke. What a fuss!
Darth: Who?
Owen: Luke. LUKE! Your SON, for crying out loud?
Darth: Oh, yeah, how is he?

Perhaps Luke just had a chip on his shoulder and was being rebellious when he told the emperor that he wouldn't join the dark side...

meeting

2005-02-22T13:39:00.000-08:00

I met with someone today. I talked for almost an hour with them.

They gave me one good pointer, and one upsetting implication.

what the...

2005-02-16T18:24:00.000-08:00

On my way home today, I passed the Oscar Meier weiner mobile. No reason that it was there, it was just happily parked next to one of the buildings on campus.

...The seats inside looked comfortable.

attractive ladies in rural N.C.

2005-02-13T11:56:00.000-08:00

Just after I graduated from college, I worked as a high school math and physics teacher in rural North Carolina. It was at a private school, but that's not saying much. Most people envision New England prestigious prep schools filled with wasps with money, uniforms, traditions and old dining halls with oaken tables. My private school was started in the 60's during desegregation (which only was pointed out to me later by my mother). There were about 350 students from k through 12. The upper school (7th and up) had about 100 kids. There were no uniforms, it wasn't a boarding school, and it always seemed to be in financial trouble.

In any event, the town was rural. I had no social life whatsoever. I taught school, and watched movies in my spare time. I gained weight (about 20 lbs.) during the two years I was there. During that time, I saw two people I was attracted to.

The second one was at a Beatles imitators concert near the end of my second year. Someone's son worked abroad in Europe. The guy taught English, but also had become the de facto manager of this group which imitated the Beatles. They dressed in the early style (brown suits with longish, mullet-like hair). They were spot on good, and had won a competition here in the states. They were touring (Chicago, Cleveland - i.e. the Rock and Roll hall of fame, and North Carolina, because that's where the guy was from). My landlady knew the guy, and so was invited. She invited me. So, having nothing better to do, I went.

It was at the local Moose Lodge in town. I sat and listened. Most of the people there were the age of my parents and landlady. There were some kids (including a few students), and this girl dancing with a guy I assumed (correctly) was her father. She had on jeans, a white wool turtleneck/sweater, and chic octagonal glasses (they reminded me of glasses I have seen people wear in Germany). She looked like she belonged in New York City. I had trouble keeping my eyes off her.

A friend of my landlady's was a women who was in her late 60's or 70's. At the end of the concert I asked her about the girl. "Oh," she said, "that's my granddaughter! She's quite a number, isn't she? She's 16." Or perhaps she said the girl was 18. In any event, my heart sank as it was quietly massacred by the Red Baron of love. "Nevermind," is what I responded. The grandmother wasn't to be that dissuaded. "How old are you?" "24." "Oh." She said, "Come back in a few years."

The first girl whom attracted me was at the end of my first year. I had gone to get my hair cut one Saturday around noon. The barbershop was right next to a salon (not a bad idea), but also right next to a strip joint. It had gaudy neon lights in the shape of palm trees and ocean waves. During my second year they bought 4 giant spotlights (the kind that Commissioner Gordon uses to call Batman with). My friends visited me from New York once and asked about the lights in the sky. Is some major event going on tonight? No, I said, it's just the strip joint. They were shocked.

Anyhow, I had just gotten my hair cut, and was walking back to my car when this girl walked from the direction of the strip joint. It did not cross my mind that that might explain her reaction to what happened next. She was quite beautiful, and wearing a tight t-shirt with the playboy bunny on the front. In the words of Bloom County, she had nice tomatoes. I smiled at her. I was hoping for a smile back. This has happened countless times. I see a pretty girl. I smile as I pass, and am generally rewarded with a smile in return. Its nice to get, but I don't expect anything more. This girl kept her face decidedly neutral. I had smiled at her, which, in my opinion was a compliment, she had remained neutral. I was a little insulted, but also curious. But as I put my seatbelt on, it hit me. Of course! She was a local dancer, come to pick up a paycheck or something. She comes out of the club, and yet another man oggles her, and smiles. If I were in her place, I would be carefully neutral too. I didn't look at her as I drove away, although she was parked next to me. Did she watch me as I left, or was that my imagination and bruised ego. And, if she watched me, was it because she was worried about what I might do?

Goodbye, Dragon Inn

2005-02-12T20:26:00.000-08:00

I just went to see a movie put on by the graduate student association. It was called "Goodbye, Dragon Inn".

I can't decide if I thought it was great, or if I would give it an "F-". Basically, nothing happened. But it wasn't like the movie Persuasion (at the end of that they at least sail off into the sunset). No, this was about people in a movie theater watching an old Kung-fu movie. The movie in the movie (called Dragon Inn) was really aweful, but had so much more going for it in terms of plot and action than the actual movie.

The GSA poster for Goodbye, Dragon Inn had a plot synopsis (which apparently came from the internet movie database) which said "A Japanese tourist takes refuge from a rainstorm inside a once-popular movie theater, a decrepit old barn of a cinema that is screening a martial arts classic, King Hu's 1966 "Dragon Inn." Even with the rain bucketing down outside, it doesn't pull much of an audience -- and some of those who have turned up are less interested in the movie than in the possibility of meeting a stranger in the dark."

Sounds interesting, doesn't it? Sounds like there might be some sort of connection between strangers in the dark at least *wink wink*. And a Japanese tourist...could be the main character, who is close enough culturally to his Chinese counterparts to have comic cultural misunderstandings, right? Poignant and funny. A winner. The poster looks really well made, could be beautifully shot...

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

First off, there was no way anyone would figure out that the guy was a tourist (although he did mention that he was Japanese, in the first of two instances of actual dialogue between people). Most of the dialogue came from the movie in the movie, with a second runner up being a fortune telling machine. It told the guy who ran the movies and changed the reels, and whom we meet more than 3/4 of the way through the movie, "put you left hand on the machine...enter your blood type...enter your birthday...take your fortune". I bet myself 10 bucks that we, the audience, would never find out what the fortune said. I was right.

The most money the director spent on this movie must have been on that beautiful poster. Then on renting out the theater in which to shoot the movie. He spent absolutely no money on lighting (the lighting was from the movie in the movie, thus making the shots of the "characters" - I hesitate to call them that- almost impossible to see). Besides that, the guy who puts on the movies didn't focus the screen. The whole time it was slightly out of focus. I went to look for him at one point, but he wasn't around (perhaps he was watching the other film showing, which was The Machinist. It looked pretty good). After watching the movie, my friend commented that we could rent our own camera and shoot a movie which was ten times better without even trying.

Anyhow, the movie starts with the movie in the movie. It was slightly out of focus. After five minutes of this, it pulled out to show the theater. I thought, oh good, it was out of focus to show it was unreal. The theater will be more in focus, less grainy to show its reality. Perhaps the director will try and show how modern life are as absurd or surreal as movies, blah blah blah. But it didn't focus. (D'oh! The guy in charge of starting the movie was actually an idiot and didn't focus the camera before leaving!)

There was this guy with a narrow flat face. He might have been the main character, but I'm not sure. He was trying to watch the movie, but there were these two girls eating something crunchy, so, after a few minutes of trying to ignore it (when he was obviously annoyed by it) he moves. Then the person sitting behind him puts her feet up right next to his head. Then a guy sits down near him. The narrow-faced man starts to fall asleep, and turns to rest his head against the seat, and is startled by the feet that are right there. That part was sort of funny.

The next time we see him, he is in the bathroom at a urinal. There are perhaps 20 of them, but he is at the far end next to another guy. Then a third guy comes in looks around and goes next to those two guys (this would never happen in America). Then someone comes out of one of the stalls. Man, they're peeing an aweful lot. Yep, an aweful lot. And the guy from the stall is taking an aweful long time to wash his hands. The guy with the narrow face looks at the guy next to him a few times. They pee some more. What are they, camels?!? Lalala...one of the guys is smoking a cigarette. He takes two long drags on it (with a long pause to blow out the smoke in between), and still no one is done. Then the shot changes.

In between these shots we see the ticket woman. She is sitting there, staring into space. She is bored. After a while, so was I. She needs a book, I thought. Then I noticed one nearby, turned face down. Then she takes a cake-like thing out of a crock pot and eats part of it. She slices off a piece and wraps the rest in a bag. It turns out one of her legs is longer than the other. So she walks sort of funny (but has a nice figure). She could have been an interesting character, but sadly wasn't. It takes her forever to get anywhere. In the course of the movie we see her: clean the women's bathroom, walk up stairs, stare at a microwave for a really long time before quickly grabbing the cake in the plastic bag (guess she decided to eat the rest of it), walking downstairs, clean the men's bathroom, and finally closing up. It takes her a good 15 minutes (real time) to close the theater. No kidding.

The guy with the narrow face is sort of weird in a "he might be a pervert or slightly insane" kind of way. He sits down next to this guy, and gets really really close to him. What's he doing? Jerking off? No, his hand is just resting on the arm rest. Then he gets up and leaves the theater. He goes in some back hallways. He walks along and sort of half ignores this other guy (is it the guy he got really close to? Can't tell, because it was so poorly lit and shot). They pass each other twice in a really narrow part of the hall. At one point the second guy is smoking a cigarette, so the narrow-faced guy pulls out a cigarette and, with hand motions, asks for a light. They smoke for a while. Then the second guy says "This movie theater is haunted. (pause) Haunted with ghosts. (pause) Ghosts!" The narrow-faced guy gets really close to him (what's going to happen? Are they gay? I've heard that in Chinese ghost can mean that). No. The second guy just walks away (what the hell!?!). The narrow-faced guy calls after him "I'm Japonese!" "Si-o-nara" says the second guy. (??!?)

A little while later the narrow-faced Japonese is sitting in front of the girl who put her legs up. He looks at her as she is eating crunchy things. Then he watches the movie. She stops eating, climbs over the seat, and gets down on her belly in the row behind him. He looks back, and she is gone! He is troubled. Then she gets up and starts eating right behind him. He freaks, thinking she is a ghost, and runs out of the movie theater. (So much for him being the main character, we never see him again).

The only other thing worth noting is the second dialogue in the movie at the very end. An old guy with a small child walks for a while (where did he come from). At the entrance to the theater there is a guy looking at the posters. "Oh, teacher Maoi," says the guy, "you came to the theater." "Yes, I haven't been in a long time." "Nobody remembers us anymore." Says the guy. "Heh!" says the teacher, and lights a cigarette. (Again, what the hell?!?!!). They look at the posters for a long long time.

I can't decide what to think of this film. Parts of it had great potential. The long boring shots forced me to look at the details, instead of just taking them for granted. But really, there was no point to the film. Nothing happened. There was no character development, and nothing was explained. It wasn't cute, but artsy (in the way that, say, Amelie was). It was artsy beyond artsy. It was the kind of movie you would watch in a film theory class (my friend took one of those, and said that the movie 2001 had the most dialogue of all the films he saw). You would be forced to write a 5-7 page paper on the film afterwards. It was the kind of film that really pretensious people would claim is brilliant in oh, so many ways, but then couldn't explain why. "If you don't get it, you're obviously below our superior intellect and we can't even begin to explain it to you" is the attitude I'd imagine they would take. I encountered a lot of that in my undergrad days, a kind of blind faith/belief...in fact almost a religion made out of pretension. In any event some day I would hope they would wake up and acknowledge that really the emperor was indeed wearing no clothes.

Ted Chiang

2005-02-11T20:08:00.000-08:00

Just reread "Tower of Babylon" from Ted Chiang's collection of short stories. On the cover Greg Bear says "Essentially you don't know SciFi until you've read Ted Chiang." That would be hype, except it's true. The stories are Excellent. A+ is my grade. One day, perhaps, I'll write at his level (I hope).

interesting spam

2005-02-10T21:04:00.000-08:00

So, my bank and eBay have gotten together to give me millions of anything points if I sign up for (another) credit card from MBNA.

BUT, more interestingly was this email:

Hi ,

Love Pizza ?

Who Doesn't...Now you can Have pizza from Pizza Hut 365 days a year on us. Take your shot at Pizza for a whole year.

I've never been offered pizza from Pizza Hut for an entire year. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy for some reason. :-)

spam me!

2005-02-08T16:47:00.000-08:00

I just entered to win a trip to go into suborbit through Volvo.

Hope they don't spam me too much.

More so, I hope I win.

advice

2005-01-26T16:56:00.000-08:00

When all else fails, read the directions.

things to write about (maybe)

2005-01-23T14:26:00.000-08:00

as a reminder (and to clean off my white erase board):

MTW/Mosuk's bow
Mock Interview/Tom Cruise
Cheerleaders/heat lamp/suntans
Fire Alarm/3rd floor
Big Al's BBQ outside of Scranton, PA.

I have also written "Eng 215?!". I don't recall what that means. oh, well.

let's see what this will do...

2005-01-17T21:05:00.000-08:00

This is my favorite Sluggy Freelance post.

Sluggy's great!

observed

2005-01-17T06:51:00.000-08:00

On the back of someone's backpack: Conformity is a social disease.

This statement started the following Socratic dialogue:
Are you conforming to non-conformity?
No. I just want to be myself.
ahhh...but who are you, really?

poetry

2005-01-17T06:48:00.000-08:00

I came out of my class.
Someone had taped "wet paint" on both of the far windows.
There was a wide view of the new snow, bare sparse trees and people, all wrapped up, bustling about.
It was like the windows were freshly painted paintings.
How true, I thought, and then: there's a poem somewhere in there, if only I can find the words.

the death of the English language

2005-01-12T16:08:00.000-08:00

I went to check my mail today. As I walked by the front desk I passed this kid. He was maybe 11 or 12 years old. A woman started talking to him about where he caught the bus, where it let him off, etc. I had no mail. As I passed him on the way out I heard him say "yeah, there's a bunch of Chinese kids, but they don't speak good English, so I'm not really friends with them."

Yes, folks, the well spoken English language...has left the building.

the things you see

2005-01-12T14:50:00.000-08:00

Two days ago, walking over the IST building, I happened to look down and saw a condom in its package lying on the ground. It was there yesterday, although it looked like it had been run over by a bike (which is quite likely). The package did not appear to have burst, and the thought crossed my mind of whether or not it was still good. I walked right past it, and did not try and see if it was.

Last semester, I was walking along, glanced down and saw a hole in the ground. It was just where two sidewalks met. It was about a foot or two deep, and there was a shoe wedged into it. A few days later I recalled seeing the shoe, and looked again. Lo and behold, it was still there. I reached in and pulled it out (it was pretty well wedged in, and water logged, because it rained the night before). It was the left shoe, I think, and fairly large. Perhaps a size 13 white sneaker. I did not know what to do with it, so I just left it there. It was gone the next day.

The spammers are getting desperate

2005-01-11T20:53:00.000-08:00

I've begun getting spam about Nigeria and $15 million unclaimed, of which I can get 60%. Greed greed greed.

Oddly, though, I got one claiming something about lots of money in Amsterdam, which I replied flippantly to.

Lastly, I just received two (identical) emails stating: I am Barrister Morrison Brown, a solicitor and the Personal Attorney to
Late Mr.James a national of your country, who owned an Oil Processing Company in West Coast Of Amrica.

Oddly, Barrister Brown claims "Amrica" is on the West coast of Africa, and it's only for 14 million big ones, not 15. I think I'll send him my rabid monkey army instead.

LOOK! More books!

2005-01-11T15:00:00.000-08:00

The War of Art by Steven Pressfield
On Writing by Steven King

as well as:
Ahab's Wife for my mom (maybe)

book list

2005-01-11T13:27:00.000-08:00

I have several scraps of paper floating around.

To be able to throw them away I will write what I have written on them here:

Books:
King Solomon's Mines, She and the 3rd book in the trilogy
Jihad vs. McWorld
The holy Koran

TMBG's DVD: Gigantic (might just rent this went it comes around).

For ms. L:
Quidditch through the ages
The Thief Lord, books 2 and 3 by - Funke
Boggle?

How personal, how droll. I hope this list is beamed into outerspace and intercepted by aliens. Perhaps, like Arthur Dent's statement, it will start an intergalactic war. Yeah, that would be great.

Snow

2005-01-11T07:28:00.000-08:00

I got my wish.

It's snowing nicely.

and another thing

2005-01-10T20:27:00.000-08:00

update

2005-01-10T20:15:00.000-08:00

My blog is very lame.

I pushed the 'take me to another blog' button (see upper right corner), and this girl had a music video!

man...

perhaps all you need is some html code to, say...Sluggy Freelance.

things to remember

2005-01-07T21:05:00.000-08:00

1. friend's wedding:
not in Australia, Ireland, or other places.
Now private for family. Party afterwards on Memorial day.

2. Find out when classes meet (and buy books...and find money for said books).

3. Find part time job.

4. Figure out what course I am slated to be a non-TA TA for and when it meets (ie hunt down 'retired' prof when he comes in)

5. Organize room

6. sell computer (boo-hoo), to get rent $

7. Clean room

8. email friend who got married, friend who moved out of NC, friend who writes me every year on my birthday

9. burn to-do list

Florida

2004-12-21T19:00:00.000-08:00

I'm in Florida for Christmas.

Then, off to North Carolina for my friends wedding. I hope I'm over the several years crush I had on her, but never acted on. I think I am.

We'll see.

I've much else to say, but have been debating whether or not to post it. I'm a recluse, even if I am writing a blog.

on a public note, I have been meaning to post the story of the cheerleaders and the heat lamp...

primal scream and the pint club

2004-12-12T19:56:00.000-08:00

There are definitely 2 things I miss about my undergrad days.

The first is being a member of the pint club.

The main dining hall closed at 8 p.m. every night. There was a smaller one which remianed open until 11 p.m. During my junior year nearly every day (and sometimes every other day, and rarely every third day) my friend would appear in my doorway (or I in his) at about 10:30 and we would jog over to the smaller hall.

There, we would each purchase a pint of Ben and Jerry's and quietly sit for 15 or 20 minutes happily consuming our icecream. Seeing as I was on the fencing team, and taking a dance class and playing intramural (read amateur) sports, the almost daily pint had little affect on my girth.

My favorite was New York Super Fudge Chunk (which I like to pronounce Nuw Yoik Supa'Fudge Chunk). My friend usually got one with pecans, I think. A second was 'everything but the...' and Mint Cookies and Creme.

I thought of this, as I finished off a pint of B+J's tonight. It took me two sittings. I bought the pint (which is now unusual since I pay cash instead of points) because I was stressed out from studying and being insanely busy for the last week (lots of work, plus the stress of deadlines). I thought about the second thing I really miss from my undergrad days: primal scream.

It was a simple concept. Most of the dorms were in a quadrangle (actually rectangular shape with the math building at one end). Around quarter to 12, the day before finals, people began to congregate outside near one of the dorms. At precisely midnight, marking the transition from 'non-finals' to 'finals' everyone began to scream. There were usually some air horns, as well as some streakers. Afterwards, one or more of the dorms would offer free icecream on a stick. I never realized what a stress-relief that was until I did not have it any more.

So...since I can't do it in public without attracting attention...here's my primal scream:

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!"

ahhhh...that felt good... now, time for icecream...

good news

2004-12-11T20:21:00.000-08:00

I've had a very odd last few days.

My mouth has had a bitter taste in it which won't go away.

I called my mom about it. As I was discribing what was going on, a though occurred to me. Could it be the collard greens I cooked? My mom said yes. You need to cook them (with lots of tricks) for several hours in order to be done right. They can be used in a soup, which is cooked for 2 days, with water being added to it occassionally (I got the impression that you used a lot of water).

So the fact that I cooked them for 90 seconds in bacon fat explains a lot (I got the recipe off epicurious.com...they claimed it was a Brazillian recipe...I've had mixed results from using them).

The recipe was as follows:
1) cook 3 strips of bacon until it's crispy.
2) remove said bacon (which I failed to do)
3) toss in the collards and cook 1 minute until they turn light and shiny green.
4) consume (and have a lingering bitter taste in your mouth for days).

My mom also said that collards are hard to digest. I threw the leftovers away today.

To be fair to epicurious.com...they do have some good recipes, but they work best when you get an idea of how to cook something, and then ignore what they say.

The end of the story is that I, unlike the opposition leader in the Ukraine, am not being poisoned. But, God help him and all of Ukraine.

lots of work

2004-12-11T20:09:00.000-08:00

Well, I've been up to my ears in work.

I can't really remember it, but Wednesday was the busiest.
It went something like this:
got up.
walked to my computer programming in-class final. Some how managed to be 5 minutes late.
Completed the final (knowing I did not get the last problem right, as well as staving off panic/I'm gonna fail vibes for 45 minutes).
Went to my 2nd final. Hit four multiple choice, decided I hate multiple choice. Completed the rest of the final, did the rest of the multiple choice (not that bad all considering).
Walked to the class I'm assisting (I'm the non-TA TA who helps the real TA). Talked with a student who I did not recall ever seeing, although in reflection I might have seen said student in one previous lab. Took roughly 5 minutes to figure out what he was asking. Took another 5 minutes to try and figure out how to get out of answering it. Spent a while more before finally freeing myself (the student seemed not to have studied, not to have attended labs and not really understand what was going on...I couldn't really help him as he was workin on a project, due Friday, and was supposed to be working on practice final).
Went home, had a nice lunch.
Worked on a practice final exam (suprised myself by finishing it before class).
Went to the class where the practice final was explained.
Worked some more on some course work.
Came home, had dinner. Talked to my girlfriend.
Then, dithered around before watching parts of the end of Superman.

Superman

2004-12-08T20:59:00.000-08:00

So...they're making another Superman movie.

Supposedly it's going to start off where 2 left off...Superman loses his powers, then gets them back, mortality, the problems with being a superhero...etc. etc. etc.

Thinking about this, I really hope it lives up to the first movie.

You know... the one done in 1978 with Christopher Reeve. In tribute to that one, I got out my DVD copy of it, and watched near the end, when Lex Luther is explaining how he's going to cause California to fall into the ocean by striking the San Andreas fault line with a nuclear weapon (gotta love comic book villans...they always think big).

In any event, he has his trusty henchman, Otis, put down a new map, and reads off the new cities he's going to create:
Lex: Lexville...Casa del Lex...Otisburg... Otisburg?
Otis: Ms Tessmacher wanted it. She has her own place...
Lex: Otisburg?!?
Otis: It's a little itty-bitty place.
Lex: OTISburg?!!
Otis: (hastily) I'll wipe it off.

A moment later, Superman tells Lex that's he's nothing but a sick, demented dreamer. Otis stands next to him, and glancing sideways beefs up his shoulders a little, as if to say "This guys not so tough. I'm just as tough as he is. Tough guy." It's a wonderful scene. In the commentary, they mention how, even though Otis and Lex are hamming it up, Chris Reeve's never breaks character. He IS Superman.

...I'll miss him.

infotainment

2004-12-07T09:19:00.000-08:00

The local publication here in State College is called the Central Daily Times (or CDT for short). Covering the front of the magazine is a special section for Penn State published by students.

My favorite thing about it is the fact that there is always a beautiful girl on the cover. Yesterday the main photo was of the Segway, but they still managed to put a medium sized picture of a girl they interviewed in the upper right hand corner.

My second favorite part is the interview section. They ask people they see inane questions and post their replies. Normally they ask girls (question 'what do you wear to bed?' makes it pretty clear the demographic they are going for, if you missed the front cover), but every once in a while they interview guys.

One of the questions they ask is: 'at gun point, what cosmetic surgery would you elect to have?'. One girl answered HUGE knockers! hehe (her answers were mostly tongue-in-cheek, she seemed to be having a good time with the 'interview'). One of the guys answered 'just shoot me.' I liked his response the best.

well well well

2004-12-06T22:10:00.000-08:00

I received the following today via my email. The return was something like emotional@yippee.com. It's odd, but seems harmless and fairly happy. My girlfriend got one, too. It was different, but along the same lines.

Enjoy:

Good morning, campers :)
Don't be crazy to do a lot of things you can't do .
Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.

There is no remedy for love than to love more.

Love is a great beautifier.

Ambition is the last refuge of failure.
Dreams are necessary to life.

The things most people want to know about are usually none of their business.

Freedom is the emancipation from the arbitrary rule of other men.

You don't save a pitcher for tomorrow. Tomorrow, it may rain.
Colonies do not cease to be colonies because they are independent.
There's no need to hang about waiting for the last judgment. It takes place every day.

Passion for fame: A passion which is the instinct of all great souls.
To know all is not to forgive all. It is to despise everybody.

Christ's grave was the birthplace of an indestructible belief that death is vanquished and there is life eternal.
Concentration is the ability to think about absolutely nothing when it is absolutely necessary.
I have had dreams, and I have had nightmares. I overcame the nightmares because of my dreams.

In an easy matter. Anybody can be eloquent.

Don't forget your great guns, which are the most respectable arguments of the rights of kings.

Concentration is my motto -- first honesty, then industry, then concentration.
You cannot love a thing without wanting to fight for it. Fish and guests smell at three days old.
Marriage is not just spiritual communion, it is also remembering to take out the trash.
Perhaps misguided moral passion is better than confused indifference.
We never live, but we hope to live and as we are always arranging to be happy, it must be that we never are so.

Nobody got anywhere in the world by simply being content.

Id be wakato

mom's secret tricks

2004-12-03T10:01:00.000-08:00

My mother called me today at quarter to nine. My mouth was dry and I was not completely coherent or conscious. Mostly what I was thinking about was a tall glass of OJ.

She has discovered a trick when I'm in that state. She asks if I went to bed late, and then guesses when. I answer honestly because I'm not completely conscious.

She asked 4? no. 2? no. 1? Yeah, 1 a.m.

The important thing she called to tell me about was the JFK was wearing a corset (for back pain) on the day of his assassination. She's gotten really into it recently. The first bullet grazed his neck (only a flesh wound), but the corset prevented him from crouching down for cover allowing the second bullet to take him out.

Or at least this is what I was told.

In any event, I now know what I'm getting for my mom for Christmas. A book on JFK.

PSU is really big

2004-12-02T09:11:00.000-08:00

According to a recent study, Penn State accounts for 2% of the business in Pennyslvania. That's 1 out of every 50 bucks. It's the largest economic contributer in the state.

This statistic reminds me of my father telling me that 1 or 2 % of all engineers in the U.S. graduated from Penn State. He said that that means that PSU is really big and has been graduating engineers for a long, long time.

The Postman, by David Brin

2004-12-01T21:05:00.000-08:00

I went to my four classes today.

Then I sat down and spent 4 (four!) hours finishing The Postman, by one of the 3 big B's of sci-fi, David Brin (the other two are Bear and Benson, I think).

I would give the book a B-/C+

But after talking to my girlfriend, I realized that the type of sci-fi I like tends to be short stories, or stories where they explore a world/universe or both (a good example is Ringworld by Larry Niven).

It annoys me when this stops in a story. What also irks me is the fact that the main character does not want his mantle of responcibility and kevetchs (that's not even close to being spelled right) all the time. But eventually he settles down, and begins fighting the bad guys.

Not a bad book, really. In fact, I'm even intruiged to see the movie staring Kevin Costner (who really has no intonation at all when delivering his lines, but the stories tend to be decent).

New York Times headlines

2004-12-01T10:10:00.000-08:00

"Ridge, First Secretary of U.S. Security, Is Quitting His Post" reads the front page headline.

The New York Times, it seems, has no large place in its heart for Thomas Ridge, first Homeland Security Secretary. Colin Powell gets to resign, but Tom Ridge quits.

He always reminded me of a football coach. He looked like he enjoyed a good fight now and then. And he was reported to be prickly to deal with, so his headline gets to be "quits" not "resigns".

Interesting...

It's official(ly) a duplicate post

2004-11-30T21:04:00.001-08:00

what I really like about blogger is the fact that I live on the East coast (and have for my entire life), but blogger is located on the West coast. So, aside from a few early posts, all my posts are always off by 3 hours.

Also, I like the fact that every so often I double post. That lets me put up things like this.

It's official

2004-11-30T21:04:00.000-08:00

Nanowrimo is now over for me.

Of course, it is based on the West coast, so technically I could stretch it out for 3 more hours.

That would be cheating, as I did officially start it at midnight on Nov. 1st (although I don't think I posted until later).

If I had more time/motivation I would have posted about:
the rules of football
the rules of baseball (both of which would suck up the word count like there was no tomorrow)
Robot Voter Fraud (don't ask, I've only got the name and nothing else for an idea, although there are plenty of possibilities)
my homework and midterm (stretching it thin on how to weave it into my story, and only adding about 1500 words, so not really worth it)
recipes

So, as promised, here's how to make spaghetti sauce from scratch:

1. fill a medium pan with some olive oil, but on medium heat for a few minutes to warm the oil up
2. Chop up some onions and put them in. After they've started to cook (2-3 minutes, when they smell nice), add some minced garlic (careful, it burns quickly!)
3. In the mean time chop up tomatoes (good tomatoes, my new personal favorite is the heirloom variety)
- As a side note, I like to take out the seeds/mushy part, but I don't think it matters that much (I'm just picky) -
4. Put the pieces in with the olive oil (I cut the squares about a half inch to a side)
5. Add herbs (or 'erbs if that's how you pronounce them). I like Italian seasoning, basil, a little salt and pepper, and oregano. Anything fresh is good. The last time I had some parsley for some reason, which I chopped up. It was excellent.
6. Stir/mix and let stew.
7. After a little while, the tomatoes dissolve into a lovely mush. I wait until it is soup-like. Then I take about a spoonful of flour and stir it in (sometimes I add a little more, depending...really what you're going for is to make it non-soup like and a little thick). Don't add too much flour, then it's a paste.
8. I let it cook a half minute to a minute more and then pour over the spaghetti. Mix and enjoy!

As a note, it tends not to be as uniform as store-bought varieties. Also it tends to be sweet (with no sugar added! Take that, you wussy store brands!).

...ummm and that's it.
The end.

yo sol el Space Cadet

2004-11-30T16:50:00.000-08:00

Today is the second (or perhaps the third) time in 2 days that I have gleefully left my room and realized, 15 minutes later, that I don't have my key, ID card, or pocket watch.

good grief.

probability

2004-11-22T13:39:00.000-08:00

The probability of me finishing nanowrimo this year = at the moment, near 0

If I include my homework and a take home midterm in my word count (lame!) and am able to write like a bat out of hell after Thanksgiving, then the probability is about 50%

crypto-homework

2004-11-22T11:19:00.000-08:00

Here is what part of my homework looks like if you replace the most common letters (as seen on Wheel of Fortune: rstlne) with the letter k:

1a)
Bakkd ok khk gkaph, ak wkkk ak Mikikab’k oukpuk fok ukukuak poikkk, PKA kkvkkk of 108, 171, 240 akd 265 akk ukukuak. Khkkk akk khk kakk fouk daka poikkk, wikh ID kumbkkk 94 khkough 97.

khk PKA vakuk ik high, buk ko ik khk vokumk of khk cakckk. Khik kkkmk ko kuppokk khk idka of a kikkak cokkkkakiok bkkwkkk khk vakiabkkk. ID #k 95-97 akk mokk ukukuak. Khky havk vkky high PKA kkvkkk, buk khk cakckk vokumk fok kach ik abouk khk kamk ak mokk of khk okhkk daka poikkk. Okk kkakok fok khik ik mighk bk khak khk akkigkk ik pkoduckd fok kkakokk okhkk khak cakckk. Pkkhapk khkkk akk mokk vakiabkkk khak kkkd ko bk cokkidkkkd.

nano status

2004-11-21T10:45:00.000-08:00

if I include the last three posts in my nano novel, I've written an additional 1390 words. I meant to write 2100 each day (plus an additional 500 to cover for Thanksgiving break).

So for yesterday and today, I meant to write about 5k words, and I've managed 1390.

hehe. Uphill battle, here I come.

thoughts on things

2004-11-21T09:33:00.000-08:00

I went to church today. I did not get much from the service, as I tuned most of it out. Some weeks are like that. I go, smile a little at the ushers, stand up to sing (and try and work on not being flat), sit, stand, listen to the sermon. Think about things.

I've tried recently to be really genuine. I go to church and there are all these people there, and they all smile. It's not that they are trying to put forth anything false, but they put on "we're at church, we must be happy" smiles. I smile to be polite, but in the past month or so, when I go I don't force myself to smile. If I'm happy or feel good, then I smile. I think I got this idea from my cousin who is teaching English in Russia. There, they smile among family and friends, but not on the street when they happen to meet someone's eye. They find it fake and disingenous, and wonder why Americans are always forcing themselves to smile in all their commercials, on t.v. and in photos.

For the record, it has not really changed my church-going experience. I get as much out off it as I did before as I do now.

On a different note, I've been thinking about my relationship with my girlfriend. I was thinking of when I had just begun to date her, and we met a bunch of friends in New York. One of them had a day lay-over before going back to Atlanta, and others were in from out of town. We basically hung out in central park for the entire day. Everyone discussed my girlfriend's future because she was agonizing over whether or not she should go to grad school.

After they had run that topic into the ground, they turned to me and asked why I had decided to go back for more school. I said that I was going to grad school because I could not figure out anything better to do with my life at the present moment. They said that was not the best of reasons to go, and did I have thoughts on any other things that I'd like to do? So, I said that it was grad school or join the military. There was immeadiate and loud astonishment and disapproval. Why would I want to do such a thing? Well, I said, it was something I had always wanted to do, but never had the courage to carry through on.

Later, I was driving with my girlfriend and another couple back to my family's house, the guy told a story about someone he knew in the reserves. The army had told them that they could choose to go back in, and join some unit, or they could not, in which case they would be assigned to some unit, and sent directly to Iraq (do not pass go, do not collect 200 bucks). The guy decided to wait it out. It was a lot of stress on him and his family. Others decided to join. It turned out that if you did not join some unit, nothing would happen. He's still here in the U.S. while some of the ones who joined are now in Iraq. He went on to say that that is just one of lies that the army tells people.

*sigh*

This did nothing to diminish the desire I felt.

I understand that the army tends to keep its grunts in the dark. If I joined the military, it would be most likely in the navy submariner class (although strategic space command sounds pretty cool, too). And I tend to have a bad habit of saying one thing when there are distinctions (I used to ask people in high school if they were ready for the test, when there was only a quiz).

What eventually changed my mind was talking to my roommates. They were in the air force. They said they were happy to have done it, but would not do it again. This is how I feel about my 2-year teaching stint at a high school (which my dad classified as my service to my country. Some people join the military, my son taught, he said). I also went to a job fair. There was a nice guy from the army there. It was his second day on the job as a recruiter. He asked if was interested in coming in for an interview. In talking to him, I realized that part of my desire to join was because I was nervous about grad school. In my mind, it is not a sure thing that I will do well. But it is a sure thing that I could be successful in the military (just like I knew I could be successful when I worked half a summer at McDonalds).

Hmm...my brother just called.

He reminded me of a camp we went to. It was in Maine. Every weekend there was a fire with faux-indian ceremonies. A counselor would dress up with a head dress. There were two braves at his side (I got to be that, twice. It was fun). Every week there would be a part of the campfire with nature reports. People would talk about a bit of nature which they had seen and been impressed with. Then the "chief" would raise his arms to show how pleased he was. The more reports, the high he raised his arms.

One time there was only one report about a catepillar. The "chief" barely moved his arms. He never spoke (so as not to give away the fact he was a councelor), so the "interpretor" counselor said "The great chief is...vaguely satisfied... with your nature reports." hehe. camp rocks.

I sold the wrong football ticket

2004-11-20T15:32:00.000-08:00

Today was the last game of the football season here at Penn State. It was also the last home game, and the last game for the main quarterback, Zach Mills (a senior).

Penn State trounced Michigan State (who had to win this and their next game in Hawaii to go onto the bowl) something like 34 to 13.

It happened mostly in the third quarter, where 2 touchdowns were run in by QB Mills.

Several weeks ago, I sold that ticket. I was looking to sell the one for the home game previous to it, but ended up giving it to a tail gate party at my grad housing.

Out of the 6 home games I purchased, I went to the first (we won against Florida State). I gave the next to my housemate, who magnanimously paid me back for it. I sold the next one so I could visit my girlfriend, and went to the 4th game (which we lost, 4-6, although we had the opportunity to score both a field goal from extremely close range, and botched it, and score a touchdown - the guy was open, the throw was high).

I donated the fifth ticket, because I could not find someone to buy it, and sold the last one.

But what a victory! I started watching when two of my housemates began yelling and jumping up and down. We had also beaten Indiana (I think) in the previous away game. PSU has not one two consecutive games in 2 years. I wish I could have been there, but hats off to JoePa and Mr. Mills on a very fine finish to a tough year.

Requiem for an organization

2004-11-20T15:26:00.000-08:00

I founded a student newspaper at my undergrad college.

It was simple. We (I roped most of my friends into it) would summarize the news. I got permission from NYTimes.com, and we used AP and Reuters.

It was one page. On the back was goofiness and the weather (always incorrect in one form or another).

My friend, who was 2 years under me, let me know that it appears to have ceased functioning. He graduated last year, but his friend,s who are still undergrads , say they have not seen it in a while.

I am a little sad (it was my little idea...and another friends, who spurred me to action), but I know that the college also started a similar service on the web shortly after we began our little jaunt into publication.

...In any event, R.I.P. my friend, R.I.P.

ch. LAME!

2004-11-19T20:49:00.000-08:00

I've run out of ideas for my novel. But Sam and Edger are good characters to get word count out of what I have to say about my night.

C. 2004 S. Fuller
1052 / 26662 53% hmm...getting there, eventually.

Edger came over, and stood in the doorway.
“Are we going to have to speak his rants, so he can incorporate it into his novel?”
“Nope,” said Sam. “We’re going to watch it on t.v. Have a seat.” He moved over, and Edger sat down. The sofa was old, and an ugly orange color which had faded from late 70’s brown. The t.v. was an old clunker with rabbit ears. Sam used the remote to turn it on. A head appeared and said the following:

One of my roommmates is talking with my other roommates girlfriend. She lives in Mexico, but is American. At some point she is going to marry her boyfriend, my housemate.

My other housemate is a good guy. He is a bit of a tease, but ultimately a good guy.

I have just finished watching the movie Predator II. It was fun. My favorite part was when one of the main characters is fighting the predator in a subway car. The lights went off when the predator arrived. The main character has just unloaded two or three clips at the predator. I say at, rather than in, because they have really had no effect on the guy. He took it and just kept on coming. What a bad mother - Shut your mouth!

...Anyway, it is a little incongrous because later DannyGlover unloads into the predator and it has a decent stopping effect for about a minute. Just long enough for Danny to peal off the mask so you can see just how ugly our alien antagonist is.

But, I digress. My favorite part of the movie was just after the other guy unloaded in the subway car. He first asks “what are you?” To which the predator plays a recording of a kid saying “do you want some candy?” The MC pulls a machete out of a dead gang members hand and says “Let’s dance.” Really dramaticly. It’s great!

As a side note, my girlfriend has been trying to get me to watch Donnie Darko for a while now. I promised her I would, if she would watch Predator or Predator II with me.

Perhaps I’ll change the requirement slightly.

Also, I keep thinking that that movie has John Cusack in it for some reason. It does not. But it does have Patrick Swayze.

Anyhow, I went to Blockbuster to rent it. I went twice, because I forgot my card. On the way, I listened to npr, but changed the channel. The show was talking about experiments with monkeys and their reaction to stress it was talking about the difference between alpha males and lesser males. Then it made the jump to humans, and went on to claim that people who were poor felt bad about themselves and, basically, were victims.

I like a lot of ideas behind the Democrat/Liberal ideals of helping people less fortunate than yourself, but I am a very firm believer in that anyone is responsible for their own actions and thoughts. They might be in poverty, and have a lot of nasty things thrown at them, but that does NOT mean that they need to roll over, play victim and just take it. DO something to better yourself. This is America, and you can raise yourself above your monetary/social status. But, you must have the correct mental attitude.

It is true that being better well off will generally lead to better education which will lead to a firmer belief in your rights and what you can do for yourself. However everyone can do this.

Stupid wussy liberals.

Sam looked at Edger. Edger looked at Sam. Sam changed the channel.

Another head appeared. It said:

I don’t like Blockbuster, because it has an aggressive marketting strategy. When you go in, the t.v.’s are often on too loud. They give short sound-bites from random movies, thus making the transition from action, to inane comedy, to sappy teenie bobber movie. It is hard to concentrate. Eventually you can’t decide what to watch, and perhaps end up renting several movies at once.

Of course, there are good things about Blockbuster. If you know what you want to watch, you can usually find it quickly.

I went in tonight, and there was a girl who pointed out to me that they were selling used DVD’s 3 for 25 bucks. If you watch each of those DVD’s twice, you’ve gotten your money’s worth in rentals (which come to $4 and 2 cents with tax). But I did not find anything I wanted, so I looked elsewhere. The girl must have been new, because she was asking everyone if they needed help. She sort of smiled at me the second time I passed her, in a friendly customer-service kind of way. I avoided eye contact with her the third time, rented my movie, and left. Of course, the store might have had a high level of theft, but the girl seemed too perky and wanting to help (and also slightly bored) so I figure it must be one of her first jobs, if not the first. She has not accepted the laid back (and possibly cynical) attitude that a low-end job like that entails. I hope she never gains too much cynicism, just enough to give her ambition to move up in the world.

The woman behind the desk was startlingly efficient. It appears that my girlfriend has added one of her housemates onto the card. The woman behind the desk chided me for not having my card on my keychain. Perhaps she suspected I had borrowed it from a friend. Then she mispronounced my first name, but I let it slide because only a small fraction of people have not mispronounced it without hearing me pronounce it first.

Anyhow, the movie I rented was fun, so I guess it was worth it.

Next week, I’m renting “Wait until dark” with Audrey Hepburn, and “Virgin Beauty Institute” mainly because it has an amazing seduction scene in it involving Audrey Tautou.

Edger turned to Sam.
“This sucks, I’m going to bed.” He lurched off to find a bed to crash in.
“Suit yourself,” said Sam. He changed the channel to cops. Then flipped to the 11 o’clock news, and slid lower into his slouch on the couch.

ch. i, my novel jumps the shark

2004-11-19T14:14:00.000-08:00

Besides jumping the shark, it also jumped the 50% mark. yee-haw!

C. 2004 S. Fuller
392 / 25610

Edger: dude, space vampires, are SO lame.
Sam: No, man, they are cool.
They were both wearing sun glasses, and still laying on the deck chairs by the pool.
Edger: Cool like in T-rexs flying F-16s?
Sam: No, cool as in they up the word count.
Edger: Yeah, ok. What are we up to now?
Sam: I think 25218.
Edger: definitely not prime.
Sam: no.
Edger: What the hell are we doing here, anyway.
Sam shrugged. They got up and left. The sun was setting anyhow, and it was getting cold.

The vampire ship came around the planet. By the time it was within echolocation range, it had nearly emptied itself of projectiles. As the crew was alerted to the presence of the vampires, it began to rock uncontrollably under the deluge of enemy fire. The captain looked at Jeremiah.
“Oh, yeah”, he said. “Forgot to tell you. I’m probably bugged. They know where this ship is.”
“Suxxors.” said Chris, as the ship began to disintegrate. He put on his helmet and pressurized his suit.

Everyone but Jeremiah died quickly and painlessly. As the vampire ship came in to mop up for the kill it was suddenly hit by a very lethal 5 Megaton nuclear-tipped bomb. Although illegal in most parts of the galaxy, that had never stopped the Tricops from using them. They flew away, dancing in their ship to the tune of heavy metal. They were nearing complete eradication of the space vampires. Their pay: 2 homeworlds in the Galacton quadrant. The Tricops were considering turning them into pleasure planets.

“What the hell is this? Some kind of buddy novel?” fumed Chris.
Jeremiah said “no” and tried to blast him. Unfortunately he missed and went careening off into space. Chris sighed, and went looking for Sarah’s projectile weapon.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Switzerland, Rodriquez and Nefarius were sitting in a cafe, sipping good, strong coffee.
“Did you hear?” asked Rodriquez. “Most of the main characters are getting killed off.”
“Really,” asked Nefarius arching his eyebrows.
“yeah, they’re realling getting their rears handed to them.”
Nefarius, sensing a plot hole somewhere, went to look for it. Rodriquez sighed. Once again he was left with the bill.

Much later, Nefarius found the plot hole. It was small, but large enough for him to squeeze through. He emereged, free in the nanowrimo threads.

more on space vampires

2004-11-19T11:26:00.000-08:00

C. 2004 S. Fuller

399 words this post.

Jeremiah talked quickly. He knew he did not have much time.
“The reason that vampires traditionally catch fire, explode, melt or die in direct sunlight is not due to its harmful rays.”
He seemed emphatic.
“It has to do with the lack of other sources of radiation. At low levels, vampires can take it. That is why they come out at night. In space, they are able to receive a healthy dosage of other radiation.”
“I don’t get it,” said Chris.
“Basically, as an advanced species, we absorb and convert radiation to energy. Being restricted to only the visible spectrum and some radio frequencies causes us great pain. Sucking the blood of the unconverted alleviates this pain, but not completely. In space, everything is different. Sufficient radiation exists to allow our bodies to cope with our … illness.”
“So why do vampires continue in their common practice of …you know.” Asked the Captain.
“It is to convert new members to their clan, or damn their enemies, or just for spite. It differs between vampires. We are a people, just like you are.”
“I see,” said the Captain. “So how are you killed.”
“I am not a traitor!” exclaimed Jeremiah.
“No, but you were once a member of my crew. You swore an oath, if you can help us, you must.”
Jeremiah cast his eyes downwards and sighed.
“Very well. I will tell you. But if I am ever caught, you must promise me that you will not rest until you have terminated me. Believe me, the punishment I would suffer for what I am about to reveal is severe.”

What Jeremiah revealed was that space vampires could be killed by disintegration, and by the traditional stabbing through the heart, although few were. They continued to be able to move faster, were stronger and superior to humans. Except, in space they were constrained by physics just like everyone else. In a ship they tended to be very lethal, and nearly impossible to stop. The only reason the captain had managed to escape with slightly less than half his crew was that another vampire ship had begun attacking the initial vampire attackers.
“Believe me”, said Jeremiah, “it was not a pretty sight. I was only spared because I was not fully turned and could be turned to their cause. But it did not fully work, hence why I am here now.”

ch. sqrt of 5

2004-11-19T08:38:00.000-08:00

I hope I remember to add this to the master word count...

C. 2004 S. Fuller
315 words in this post

There were fifteen minutes left in the timer. Plenty of time, thought Hector. He, like his companions was dressed completely in black, with the exception of his grey utility belt. From it, he pulled a long yellow wire, some wire clippers and two electronic devices. He attached the electronic devices to the top and the side of the bomb. He cut some of the wire and stripped the ends. While he waited for the devices, he pulled out a metal card, the size and shape of a credit card.

The devices both blinked red, simultaneously. Then the top one blinked green, followed by the side on, just as they should. The casually slid the credit-card shaped piece of metal between the box and its top, jiggled it, and then forced the top open. The inside was a mess of wires. He sighed. Just like Nefarius to make it difficult. He began to take the wires out, one by one. Most were not even attached to anything, just horribly intermeshed. He cut some of them so that he could remove them easier.

He had just determined that there were actually 2 wires connected to anything, and he might be able to salvage the explosives for later, when he heard a beep. He looked up and froze. The timer, the last time he had glanced at it had read 12:24. It now read 0:03. Then 0:02, then 0:01. He swore, loudly. The device went off.

Had Nefarius been around to watch, he would have been pleased. The evil overlord guide specifically said that if you had to have a device with a digital counter, one should make it have a few tricks. Nefarius was especially pleased as he had made it skip 12 minutes 13 seconds in the count-down process. Unfortunately for Nefarius, he was not watching the monitor. Instead, he was in a jail, in Amsterdam.

just to up the word count a little...

2004-11-18T22:15:00.000-08:00

...a totally useless chapter.

Involving Nefarius and Rodriquez.

C. 2004 S. Fuller
454/24504 49% inching upwards...

How fast could he write, wondered Fiasco the talking llama. Ten minutes? Five hundred words was a lot, but he thought he could crank it out.

He started to write. Soon Nefarius and Rodriquez came by. They sat down to write as well.
“Hey aren’t you that talking llama?” asked Rodriquez.
Fiasco decked him. It was a mistake. Nefarius pulled out a bazzoka and blew him away.

And that, my dear friends, is why there are no talking llamas in the world today.

Nefarius and Rodriquez (how could I ever forget them), continued on their quest. They didn’t know where they were going or why, but they felt compelled to travel East. After a while they consulted their makeshift map, and decided to head North for a while.

Eventually they decided that Santa Claus must exist, and he should be found. They chartered a plane to Iceland (because who, in their right mind, would live at the North Pole year round).

It got them to Reykjavik, but not much else. They tasted Sirius milk chocolate. It was seriously good. They witnessed some Cirrus clouds overhead, as well as listening to the their Sirius satelitte radios.

Did you ever bury Fiasco? asked Nefarius, suddenly.
No, said Rodriquez, I didn’t have the time. Why?
No reason.
Nefarius turned the newspaper over. They were wanted for murder of one talking llama. They decided to hide in Switzerland, and from there to maybe go to Argentina. They would have to be alert, and think fast. They got up to leave the McDonalds where they were eating and were arrested.

Later, after their lawyer had left, they began to sing 100 bottles of beer on the wall.

Their court date was set. It was a speedy trial.

Since the juror was primarily naturalized extra-terrestrials, who knew how annoying talking llama’s could be (had not anyone heard about the mass genocide of llama world 5 for just that reason) they were let off easy with 500 hours of community service to be performed in 50 countries.

That is how Nefarius was introduced to Stella, and Rodriquez woke up in Amsterdam in a gutter, robbed after visiting the red light district. A few months later he was treated for a venarial disease.

Stella, to add to the word count, but not the plot, attempted to mind meld with Nefarius, but died because of it.

Nefarius thought he would never get over it, but then he met Ann. She died, too, due to a freak accident. Then he met another Stella. She dumped him. He went into a funk, then began to write. He found out about nanowrimo and began to haunt the threads, but never post.
What a weirdo, thought Rodriquez.

Susan meets the sand elves

2004-11-18T19:27:00.000-08:00

I realised that if I write every day for the remaining days in November, I only have to write about 2100 words a day. Then I realized that I can write in half hour increments. So... no giving up for me!

C. 2004, S. Fuller
1247 / 24050 48%

Susan began walking in the direction where the sun seemed to be setting. The desk idled along after her. She conserved her water as best she could.

About midday, she asked the desk nicely for some help. It agreed, and provided her some shade through the worst of the mid-day sun.

She continued onward. She had to change her course as the sun began to truly set. For entertainment she had been counting her steps. When she reached about 3500 she could see three small hills off to her right. She turned towards them, and reached them just as the sun set. She had to walk around them before twice before finding the cave. She took out a weapon, and slept lightly underneath the desk. She thought about what to name it just as she was dozing off.

In the middle of the night, she awoke to voices. She cautiously crept out from under the desk, her weapon drawn, but saw no one. The sky was deeply overcast.

In the morning, she watched the sun rise. Her neck was stiff from sleeping at an odd angle. There was not that much room under the desk after all. She went into the cave. It was not very deep. There appeared to be some type of stream at the back of it. In the stream, she noticed a lamp. She picked it up cautiously, and rubbed it. Nothing happened. She put it back in the stream.

The stream some how did not fit. It came out of the rock, and went back into the rock. She thought about what that could mean.

Suddenly, the water changed colors rapidly, and then the cave filled with a ranbow of light. A mist formed, and from that, a man.

Susan was taken aback, and raised her weapon.
“Woo, there, little lady, don’t shoot. I come in peace.”
“You’ll come in pieces if you don’t tell me who you are and where you came from. Right. Now.” She was not in the mood to be civil.
“Hey, hey. I’m a Djenni.”
“A genie?”
“No. Djenni. Say it with me...Duh-jen-ee, Djenni.”
Susan shot him. When the smoke cleared, he was still standing there, with a large burn mark in the middle of him.
“Oww! That was unnecessary. Since you’re so uncivil, tell me your three wishes, so I can grant them and get back to my watery home.”
Susan smirked, “I want to be young, beautiful and fabuously wealth or rich.”
The Djenni burst out laughing. It put its hand over its eyes. It began coughing it was laughing so hard.
“I’m sorry,” it weazed. “I need a ...bit ...off...fresh air.” it gasped, and stumbled out of the cave.

Susan looked at where the lamp was still. The smoke and mirrors show had moved it slightly, revealing a small button underneath it.
“What the hell,” thought Susan, “and pressed it. Two parts of the cave recessed slightly. The water came from underneath them.
“I knew it!” said Susan. She pushed on the rocks to her right. They gave way to a small room with metal walls. She pushed the other rocks, but they did not budge. She shrugged, and crammed herself into the room. It was just large enough to stoop inside. The walls were metallic gray in color and perfectly smooth. She was trying to look behind her, when the door slammed closed. She was trapped in a dark box. The box dropped rapidly.

It fell for several minutes, and then stopped. The back of it opened, and the front rammed forward, causing her to fall out. The ground was a few inches below. She fell on her back, momentarily stunned.

Several grey-skinned 4-foor tall humanoids with pointy ears eyed her suspiciously and then levelled some form of guns at her. She put her own weapon down slowly.

The ceiling was very low. They took her weapon, and made her crawl a few meters until she came to a well lit room. She was nudged forward (they had all walked behind her). She crawled out, and the stood up. The room was about twenty feet high. The walls were still smooth grey metallic. She could not see where the light came from. There were several elven people milling around.

The room was rectangular in shape. Directly across from her was a raised platform with a plain metal throne. A man sat on it, talking to a man beside him. The man beside him looked human. The man on the throne stopped talking as soon as he saw her (as she stood up). The rest of the twenty or so people immeadiately stopped talking and stared at her.

Meanwhile the Djenni had stopped laughing, gotten ahold of himself and re-entered the cave. The woman was missing. He looked around, went back out. No, she was not out there. He shrugged, and went back in. She must have found the secret button. His lamp had been moved to one side. He pushed the lamp back over the button. If she does not stick around, then she voids her wishes. He smiled at that. She seemed a little edgy to him. Then he sighed, and put the index finger of his right hand into the spout of the lamp, and held his nostrels with his left hand. He blew out while closing his eyes. His ears popped, and he shrunk while being sucked back into the lamp.

Back in the cave, Susan noticed that the tall man beside the throne did not have pointy ears. Was he an elf?

The man spoke.
“Welcome to the land of the sand Elves. If you have something to barter with, we will let you live. Otherwise we will place you back on the surface without any water.”
“All I have is an enchanted desk,” she said.
The elven king leaned forward. They waited.
“Go on...” said the man suspiciously.
“No, really, I do. But it seems awefully attached to me, and has been stalking me for some time.”
The king and the man looked at each other. They were not quite sure what to make of this.
“Why are you a man in an elven realm?” Susan asked the man.
“I’m not a man, I’m an elf.” said the man.
“But you don’t have pointed ears,” she pointed out.
“I never noticed that,” said the elven king on the throne.
“It was an accident. It happened long ago. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But you’re so tall.” continued Susan.
“I’m from a different race of elves,” said the man.
The king on the throne had leaned back. “Yes,” he said that is kind of odd. I never really questioned that either.” said the king.
“What kind of a king are you?!” exclaimed Susan.
Everyone, including the man, looked shocked. The elf on the throne looked angry, and was about to reply, when there was a loud booming sound. The walls shook, and sand fell down from the ceiling. Susan realized that the walls and ceiling must not be very well supported.

A door opened from the seemingly blank wall, and an elf ran in from a side room. It appeared to be full of computer screens.
“Sire!” it shrieked, “the Tricops are attacking!”
The king stood up on his throne. He was not taller than the back rest, even standing.
“To arms!” he cried.

nano: epilogue, or the middle of the novel, I think

2004-11-18T13:37:00.000-08:00

C. 2004 S. Fuller
1043/22813 45.6% WOO-HOO almost 50% of the way there!

ch. sqrt(3): Susan's desk

Character:

commander with to-do list - resolved
heros in ship called “cranky” - resolved

Chris, Sarah, Captain Jennings, Jeremiah the Vampire -UNRESOLVED
Fiasco the talking llama -UNRESOLVED

Glen and the prophesy -DEAD, beset by wolves
Mr. Ian Woon -DEAD and Resolved
Orlüm, Ofa and the Over-eager Ogre -DEAD

Jessie in war -resolved, sort of. Plot arc will be ignored from now on
Susan and the stalking desk -sort of resolved, can continue with plot arc
Edger and Sam -resolved, can continue with their plot arc

Tricops and desert Elves -unresolved (not necessary to resolve)

Susan, after many months as a galley slave/cook was quite resolved to her fate. She was therefore somewhat puzzled at why she was being set free. And, why of all things, on this world? They had set down on hundreds of worlds to trade. She had allowed to roam free countless times, because each world was more repulsive to her than the next.

She had worked tirelessly and without complaining. She had kept low and been a good cook. Why free her now?

The ship had set down on a remote desert world. There was only one or two small smuggling settlements. She would not last long here.

She wandered amid the junk heap which passed for the smuggling yard sale. There were perhaps two hundred smugglers here, all trying to sell their wares to each other. This was a small post. The pickings were only borderline illegal. At a place as remote and reclusive as this, she would have thought that there would be more contraband, and it would be more than a little illegal.

She paused to look over some faux jewelry, then was about to pass on, when she paused. No, it could not be. She looked more closely. Yes, it definitely seemed to be. Although by now extremely battered, and without much of its initial luster, there, of all places was that desk.

“Where did you pick up this desk?” She asked the green nosed humanoid and seven armed blue thing (it was the closest she could approximate it to any species, and she felt she was being kind).
“It’s a secret.”
She sighed, and removed one of her pearl earrings.
She put it down on the desk.
“Secret enough for this?” she said.
The humanoid eyed the pearl enviously, but the blue thing was unimpressed.
“Yes, but not for a pair of those.”
She sighed. “Too expensive.”
She picked up her earring and began to walk away.
“Wait!” yelped the blue thing, several people turned to see what the commotion was all about.
It lowered its voice. “We can offer more.”
“I don’t want anything, except information. I’m being freed by my ‘saviours’. They say I have served the indentature of being saved from space wrecks. They are freeing me on this world. I want to survive. How do I do this?”
The blue thing raised some sort of furry part of its torso. Susan assumed it was an eyebrow. She took off her other earring, and put it on the desk.
The blue thing nudged the humanoid, who looked even more greedily at the pair.
“Find the sand elves. They live beneath the desert 4 to 5 standard units from here in the direction of the setting sun. Do not wait until the sun sets, the predators come out then. They are vicious and cunning. The direction is that way.”
“How will I know I have reached them?”
“You will find three low hills of brownish rock. At the front of the middle one is a small cave. The entrance is there. Be sure to have something to barter with, otherwise your life is of no consequence to them.”
“Thanks.” Susan said and shrugged indifferently. Perhaps her life was worth those two earrings. She began to walk away, when the desk lurched forward, spilling most of the jewelry onto the sand. The two beings cursed heavily, and began to pick up the jewelry.

Susan returned to her ship on the outskirts of the squatters town. She picked up her spacesuit and the few items she had managed to win at gambling. Her savior/captors were overjoyed that she was not going to try and bargain her way back onto the ship to travel with them some more. It would have forced them to drastic measures, which they did not want to take, but would have been willing to use, if necessary.

She was about to head out into the desert with the small amount of water and possessions when the desk came up besides her and gently nudged her. She jumped, and then saw the note. It said ‘it seemed to want to follow you. We have no use for it. Good luck.’
“All right.” she said to the desk (she felt assanine to speaking to it), “if you want to follow me, you can, but no more stalking, understood?”
The desk seemed to understand, because it backed off a little.

She proceeded out into the desert after tying a hankerchief over her head. The desk followed her a few feet behind.

Unbeknownst to her, a nearby merchant had witnessed the desk upsetting the jewelry earlier. Possessing some psychic ability, he recognized the desks desire to be with Susan, and had thus forced the humanoid with the green nose and the blue seven armed thing into a game of chance. They knew it was rigged, but had had little choice, and could not prove the game’s bias. They had lost and been forced to let the desk and it’s new hover component which they had attached to make it easy to move go. The other vendor had left shortly thereafter. He knew that he would not be able to go back to the market for several years, if ever, and had lost a valuable and lucrative deal with the sand elves, but in his heart, he knew it was the right thing to do. Beings like him were regretably in short supply in this section of the galaxy.

Question...will Susan use the desk to barter with the sand elves?
Does she meet Edger and Sam, the Djenni?
Will Edger and Susan become a love interest?

TUNE IN NEXT INSTALLATION TO FIND OUT (maybe)...

nano uh-oh

2004-11-18T09:32:00.000-08:00

C. 2004 S. Fuller
625/21770 43.54% done.

I've been keeping a master copy of my nanonovel. I did a word check recently and came up with 16,640 words. Yeah, I thought, not really thinking, it always rounds up. Then I checked my blog and found that I had gotten a tally of around 19k.

Uh-oh.

So I copied my blog for November, and pasted into a word document. After getting rid of the dates of the posts and the "posted by Stu, 0 comments" (as well as deleting a lot of empty space). I did another word count. Total: 21,145.

Difference from word count on "master" copy: 4,505 words.
Difference from what I thought I had: 1681

Of course, part of the count of the 21,145 are spacers, which I use to be able to see where one story line ends, and another begins. They tend to look like this: ---0--- or like this --0--. There can't be more than about 100 or so. I don't have more than 20 chapters with at most 4 or 5 plot threads in each chapter. So, I don't know what went wrong where, but I'm not going to bother figuring it out. I'll just go with the 21k count and go from there.

In other pedantic news, I went on the nanowrimo.org site, and looked in a thread. Someone was considering quitting, but had 5 reasons not to. Another person, two posts down said that if by the 15th of Nov. you had between 15 and 20k you could finish no matter what your pace, and between 5 and 15k you could do at least 30k (below 5k was tough to do). On the 15th of Nov. I had 13+k done. I think I can make it. I'm going to try. Although, when I started I did promise myself that I would not let nanowrimo get in the way of my classes. I have a take-home midterm due by next Friday, so we will see where I can squeeze in my nano novel.

Here goes nothing:

Ch. sqrt(2): Edger and Sam are really bored

Edger: Is 933900371 prime?
Sam: Yep.
Edger: 542879321?
Sam: nope.
Edger: 5428978630?
Sam (giving Edger a look): Dude, that's even...
Edger: oh, yeah...hehe...204450523?
Sam: (sigh) yep...

The sun beat down upon them. They were sitting in lawn chairs next to a pool with a pool table (and umbrella) between them. The table had 2 glasses of lemonade on it. The glasses were sweating heavily. All around them was desert, for as far as the eye could see. It was going to be a very hot day.

Sam: You ever heard of extreme martial arts?
Edger: Sure, like that guy who developed his own system. He (and those he trained) can take direct hits and kicks.
Sam: Yeah, I saw that. There was a guy getting repeatedly kicked in the groin. Didn't phase him, he could take it.
Edger: Yeah, and then there were the three people who punched the master instructor directly in the neck. Man, would that have killed me. (pause) Do you know how to do that?
Sam: I wish. No, don't waste your wish on that. I can't grant what I don't know.
Edger: Ahh...(pause) I think I'm going for a swim. Coming?
Sam: No thanks.
He turned over on his back. His tan was coming along nicely.

Meanwhile, the beautiful girl Sam and Edger had met in the bar was walking down the street, when suddenly she stopped and spoke everything in this post. She got a lot of funny stares from passers-by. What was wrong with her? Was she possessed? Possessed or not, if she did not hurry she would be late for her 10 o'clock meeting.

the nano continues...lamely

2004-11-17T16:03:00.000-08:00

not sure why I'm still continuing.

C. 2004 S. Fuller
4652 / 19464 (partly from previous Nov. posts)
38.9%

So... what are you going to do now?
Edger and Sam were sitting at a bar, drinking Guiness. Their bar tab was currently running in the thousands of dollars, but no one minded because every so often they brought someone in who made everyone filthy rich.

The novel is ended, right?
Edger, you’re being persistent.
Sam turned to him. What’s he saying? said Sam.
He’s saying that I should get off his case. Edger talked back into the thin air.
Since the novel is dead, you can’t start a new one without breaking the rules, right?
Sure I can. It will just be a continuation of my current novel.
Loser. said Edger.
What now, asked Sam.
He says that he can continue on as if nothing has happened.
Isn’t that breaking the rules? asked Sam.
‘Sure is. Edger waved to the bartender. A barmaid, extremely buxom, put down another Guinness in front of him. He grinned at her. She smiled tolerantly.
What the hell? Said Sam, Life is good.
I’ll drink to that! said Edger.
They drank to the toast.

Overheard at the bar:
Do you know my fantasy?
To have sex in a car?
Nope.
To have sex in a car while your parents are driving?
nope.
To have sex at Disney world?
nope.
Sex on a bike?
Are these all your fantasies?
What’s your fantasy?
To have sex without gravity.

Then there was a discussion of the physics behind pulling this off.

Ok, go ahead, said Edger.
thanks.
Sam looked expectantly at the door.
A pretty woman walked in the room. He was pleasantly suprised. She was practically dressed, in a tank top and jeans. She had shoulder length hair which she liked to push behind her ear with one hand. She was attractive, but unself-conscious about it. She walked up to the circular booth which they were currently sitting at.
Edger, right? She asked.
Edger nodded.
Then she related a randomly connected bunch of sentences which have been previously published on this blog and in the month of November, but not in the nano novel. Then she turned around and walked out. Sam was unpleasantly suprised.
Way to go, lame-boy. What are you at? An extra 3k?
3447.
Hunh. ...LAME!
Sam was still looking over his shoulder with a wistful look on his face.
Edger looked at his friend. Then said Bartender! Another round for us. Make it strong this time.
The bartender just nodded as he finished drying a mug.

Susan finally was free of that desk. Whatever it was she was never going to see it again. After kicking it into the void, she had been picked up by a gleaner’s ship. Her chief accomplishment was not being thrown off the ship without a spacesuit immeadiately. She was now the chief (and only) cook in the place. The galley smelled funny, but was, to a large extent, clean.

a dream

2004-11-17T13:29:00.000-08:00

So Monday night I went to bed ferklempt at realizing that finishing nano a dream fast disappearing into the rear-view mirror of the month.

I think this caused me to have a very strange dream.

I was in a shop. The kind that are in airports. The kind that sell newspapers, magazines, books and tourist junk for inflated prices. Only this shop was more spacious than an airport shop. This one was spaced out like a shop in a museum. I was buying something and this guy was behind me. He got closer and closer until he was pressing into me.
"Sir!" I said loudly, "could you PLEASE move away from me?"
He did not, so I turned around, grabbed him and pushed him a few feet back. I said "Look. I want you to stand 2 to 3 feet behind me. Like right HERE." I turned around and he pressed into me again. It was not sexual, in case you are thinking that way.

I finished and went out into the hallway. It was very large and wide. There were guys in suits and dark sunglasses at regular intervals. There were doors in the hallway, which presumable led to an extravegant auditorium. I talked to several guys in the suits, but they knew the guy behind me. Even though they agreed that what he was doing was wrong and odd, they did not do anything about it.

So I left via an exit door. It was sunny outside and I had to walk through a small row of shrubs. I remember this vividly. I walked into the woods. Through the trees I could see something I wanted to get to. I was a little miffed. In the middle of the woods I met a moose. He had huge antlers and was rutting (is that they way to use that word? or it was rutting season?). In any event, I put a small tree between him and me, and sort of hid behind it. It was not that thick. He stopped bothering me, because he couldn't get to me. He started to go away, and then came back with a vengence. I climbed the tree. I was lying on a branch which was about at the top of his head. He was going around, nosing me. Eventually I put my hand down, then realized he might bite them off. Instead he started sucking on them.

I called out or thought that I wanted some help, and the guy who was behind me in the store came with a gun. It was a small rifle, perhaps a 22. He fired it into the air. It made a loud noise. The moose started, and left in a hurry. I swung down from the tree, and said "Just leave me alone! That's all I ask."

Then I went through the rest of the woods. At the far end was a pond with a lot of sand in it. The sand was at varying heights so that at points it was deep enough to swim in, but at other points the sand came slightly out of the water. My mom was there in a bathing suit and said "Come on, let's go swimming." I may or may not have suddenly been in my swimming suit.

Then my alarm sounded, rudely cracking me out of my REM sleep.

I was in a bad mood for the entire day.

Later I talked to my girlfriend and asked what it meant. She said I was reacting to some institution (school perhaps?) which gave me structure, but I felt trapped and stiffled by it. I asked her what the moose represented. She said it was the force of nature. I didn't quite buy it.

However, it might be due to the nano novel. I've enjoyed it (pretty much), but have been feeling stressed about the deadline. Last night I had decided to give up. Or rather, I realized that I would not make 50k by Nov. 30th. I am still going to write. It irks me, though. I have 13 days, and I feel that I should be able to find a solution to make me write faster (at the present time it appears that it will take me 35 hours or so to finish it). We'll see what happens.

the state of my nano novel

2004-11-17T06:59:00.000-08:00

I realized last night that there is almost no way that I can 'win' nanowrimo this year.

I type at about 1k words/hour, but I don't really like to binge. I only do about an hour's worth of work per day (which I guess counts me as a slacker).

Realistically I'm not going to get much done over Thanksgiving. That vacation starts on a Wednesday, and ends on a Sunday, 5 days gone. Leaving me with 9 days to finish the remaining 36k I need. At 1k/day that means I can get 9k done. If I pull the dream/delusion trick and have one of my characters hallucinate about all the things I've published in this blog, but are not in my nano novel, that gains me about 3k, or perhaps by now, more like 4k.

So I have 36k - 9k - 4k = 23k.

Still, not bad for a legitimate attempt.

ch. 4 the end of the novel

2004-11-16T17:10:00.000-08:00

I wrote the end of the novel, because I knew what would happen. I wonder what I will do now.

C. 2004 S. Fuller
991/ 14812

The portals were all set up. The fuses were all set. All that was really necessary was the word to do it. The chief engineer took a deep breath. Oh, well, he thought, at least it was not really his decision to carry this out. “Commence at will.” He spoke the command authoritatively. All over the moon, millions of one-way black holes opened up on countless suns. On several other hundred moons (many of which were created for the project) similar portals were opened. Each device was automatically pushed through. As it went through, the doctor devices neatly armed themselves.
The manhattan project had nothing on me, the chief engineer smiled with a grin.

As the last device went through and began to head on its merry way at high velocity, a creaky, rotating spaceship appeared out of the void, and crashed itself squarely in the main control center. Several figures in spacesuits and armed with primitive, but effective projectile weapons got out. Their leader yelled “You can’t do this! The galaxy cannot be destroyed!”

“But you are too late.” said the chief engineer, “the last device has just been launched. There is no stopping it now.”
They shot him.
“Who’s the next in charge here?!” the man bellowed.
“I am,” wimpered a small man wearing a friendly creavat and bow tie.
“You’re now in command!” the man continued to bellow. “Is what he said true?”
“I’m afraid so.” The man sputtered. Having your boss shot tends to make one nervous.
“Well... why did you do it?”
“To stop the villan.”
“Who is...?”
The man went to a computer. After several minutes he gasped.
“You know,” he said nervously. “I’ve never actually bothered to look until now.”
“Well! Who is it?”
“It appears,” said the man conversationally, “to be a small stuffed plush toy in the shape of a rabbit. hmmm... it appears to be owned by my daughter. How embarassing.”
Just then the local doctor device intersected with the sun, causing it to begin going supernova.
“Oh, well. Now no one has to know.”

A moment later, Edger and Djenni, both sporting terrific tans appeared on the scene. Edger sighed.
“Is this where and when you’re supposed to use your third wish?” asked Sam, the Djenni.
“Yes, Sam, I’m afraid it is.”
”Pity.” said Sam.
“Agreed.” said Edger. “For my third and final wish, I wish that all this had never happened and that the galaxy was back to how it used to be, more or less.”
“That’s a dangerous way to put it,” said Sam. He had put on small glasses and was consulting a law book.
“But, it is your wish. By the power granted unto me, I grant thee thy third and final wish. I am now, in accordance with current and ancient law, free to go and do as I please.”
“Wait,” said Edger. “Aren’t you know forced to go back into your lamp?”
“No,” said Sam, “that’s just a technicality. I really only keep it around because it was present from my late wife.”
“What?” Edger could not believe this.
“It’s a long story,” said Sam. “Some day I’ll tell you about it. But for now hold on.”
There was a wooshing sound. A moment later and the moon was barren. A mass of craters. The sun shone brightly.
“What happened?” asked Edger.
Sam gave him a disk. “Here, it’s a matter of galactic history now.”
Edger went to watch it.

Meanwhile, two thousand years before, on that very same moon, three people were meeting. They had just determined that the only way to stop any and all crime and villans of the galaxy was to destroy it, once and for all. A man appeared beside them suddenly.
“Who are you?” they cried, drawing lethal looking weapons.
A spaceship descended and landed neatly. A man got out, and while shooting the three men, said “oh, hello, Sam. Am I late?”
“No, commander.” Sam replied.
“Good,” said the commander, and he crossed off the last item on his list. “It’s wonderful how you and I tend to share the same goals.”
“Oh, don’t thank me, thank Edger.”
“Really... who’s that?”
“It’s a long story,” said Sam.

The End.

Well, said Edger, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, we can go on with the novel.
Yes, said Sam, it is sort of like Good Will Hunting, where they kiss before their first date is over.
That’s a rip-off of another movie.
Yeah, said Sam, a classic I cannot remember.

Mr. Ian Woon, in plumb attire and decadent style, began the meeting.
“I have gathered you here, gentlemen, to address the ills of the galaxy and what to with them.”
He went on, explaining why and how they should destroy the galaxy.
Suddenly a man appeared out of nowhere.
“Sam?” thought Mr. Ian Woon.
He was shortly thereafter shot by the immortal known only as the commander.

Jessie, having been ignored for a long while, finally made it back to the building.
“Help,” she said, I have been exposed to acid-gas. “Where is the shower?”
“There.” said a man, and pointed to the middle of the street where the burst water main was spewing water uselessly on the street. She gulped.
Suddenly, the firing and vicious street battle stopped, as the building Jessie had been in exploded. Or more accurately, the basement exploded, causing the building to implode. Jessie, after a moment, ran into the street. She stripped herself of most of her clothing, and jumped through the burst water main’s spout several times. Although it hurt a lot, she was clean, and free of the deadly acid-gas.

For her, the war was finally over. It felt good.

The girl finally got out of the bathrrom.
“Right,” said Fiasco, the talking llama, “time to rock.”
“You can talk?” asked a man, astounded.
Fiasco decked him. The brawl to end all brawls began in the McDonalds.

ch. 4 another short chapter

2004-11-16T16:17:00.000-08:00

C. 2004 S. Fuller
168 / 13821 27.6%

Susan, in a full spacesuit, floated freely among the wreckage of her ship. She was one of the few survivors. She was sad to see it end this way. As she came around a particularly large remnant (which used to be part of the ships stellar drive), she noticed something which send shivers down her back.

There amid the wreckage, and all the debris, was the desk. The same, odd, desk which she was sure had been floating towards her when the ship disintegrated. Now, scared, but intact, it appeared to be floating towards her once again. She was incredulous. It could not be.

She kicked off the large chunk, and squarely launched herself at it. She rotated, and did a fairly well landing on its top, bending her legs to ease the impact. Then she kicked off, back towards the large chunk of the drive, sending the desk squarely in the other direction. At last, she was satisfied. She would not see the desk again, perhaps forever.

ch. 3 The introduction of Mr. Ian Woon

2004-11-16T16:07:00.000-08:00

as a side note, Mr. Ian Woon is an anagram for nanowrimo. Cheesy, I know.

C. 2004 S. Fuller
110 / 13653

Quietly, a certain Mr. Ian Woon entered the castle. Dressed in a dashing formal suit that was all the rage in the late Victorian era, and wearing a top hat, he quietly leaned over the doormat which said “welcome” in large cheerful letters and rang the doorbell. No one answered, as he suspected.

He tapped gently on the door mat, and quickly removed his cane. A large bear trap snapped shut with a resounding clang. He nodded, approvingly. He turned to go. His black suit was shining, as was the red scarf sticking prominently out off his front coat. To the world, Mr. Ian Woon was dressed to the hilt.

ch. 2.2

2004-11-15T20:21:00.000-08:00

c. 2004 S. Fuller

263/13543

ch. 2.2 filler and the introduction of "Fiasco" the talking llama

The man showed up that the front door. He had a llama behind him. The llama was named Fiasco. They were there for trouble.

Trouble was in the bathroom. As, they ordered milkshakes while they waited for her.

When she got out, they all began to rumble. It was dangerous. They used sporks.

The commander took out his long list. Under “destroy cheese world” and “eliminate annoyingly banal fantasy characters” he had written the following:
become a vegetarian
read the OED
colonize three unihabitable planets by Tuesday
move the moon with a lever
stop global warming
invent a hyperspace bypass
light pants on fire (why had he written that one?)
annoy brother by becoming ruler of known universe

The list went on for some time. In the middle was:
destroy the race of space vampires
eliminate space piracy
unify the coda of space freight handlers
clean sink
remove minor black hole blocking the only entrance to the pleasure deck
discipline the only member of his species who was of the canis race for the item above
terminate his holomistress (end, but not erase program)
remember to leave space beacon for posterity

At the very end, he had written “save galaxy form people trying to destroy it.” He was glad he was immortal and possessed a temporal anomalies device allowing him to travel through time (althoug inconveniently not through space). His clock read 1:22 a.m. He sighed and ordered another grilled cheese. He suspected that the chef had quit again and the bugboy was in charge. He would have to look into it.

ch. 2.1

2004-11-15T19:37:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Diego for this one for the idea about the trap o'death.

C. 2004 S. Fuller

124/13280

Nefarious watched contentedly from the helicopter. Several masked characters burst through a door in the castle and promptly plummeted 16 stories to their death. After people started wisening up to the old exit door of death, he and Rodriquez had installed a door marked “entrance” and opened to the outside of the castle, 16 stories up. The best part about it was that you had to have a running start to get the door open in the first place. He was particularly pleased with that one. He smiled.

“Hey!” yelled Edger. “What’s up with Nefarius and Rodriquez? Are they gay?”
Aren’t you supposed to be leaving the known universe in a spaceship with a Djenni named Sam?
Edger grumbled and left the plot line.

ch. 2 Nefarius and Rodriquez decide to leave

2004-11-15T18:41:00.000-08:00

Some authors were paid by the word. Dikens, I think, might have been one. An English teach said that there are whole chapters in there that are completely and utterly useless because the author needed the money.

I sympathize. I need the word count for nanowrimo. I looked on the forums. There was a challenge of how many words you could write in 5 minutes. Nefarius and Rodriquez were the ginny pigs. Here's the result: ch. 2 The chapter that can be ignored!

C. 2004 S. Fuller
1024 / 13156

Nefarius began counting. He counted slowly. He counted for no reason. He was counting to see how long he could count for. 1 2 3 4...it would go on and on forever. Just then Rodriguez entered through the door.
“I’ve finished mopping up the floor, Lord Nefarius.” He said happily. “Is there any more work I could do.”
Nefarius thought hard. If he could think up something he could keep counting, undisturbed. If not, then he would have to listen to that damn campfire story. Man, he thought, how I hate that story. He considered shooting Rodriquez. But, since Rodriquez had been with him for almost 20 years, it would be like shooting a close relative. I’d better not, thought Nefarius.
“Yesss...there is one thing you could do for me,” he said slowly. His mind seized up, and then it came to him all in a flash. “You can set the traps up so that they self clean and self regenerate.”
“Really? Oh, joy!” Finally, a job that did not involve mopping. Rodriquez had never been happier in his entire life.
Nefarius went back to counting. “167 168 169... Did he have something better to do? KEEP focused, damn it! 170 171 172.”
By the time he had reached 54,982 he was growing bored, and where was Rodriquez. There were not that many traps. He was a little worried.

To Be Continued...

234 words in 5 minutes

Nefarius began to search. He was frantic. Where could Rodriquez be? He was not in the danger room. He was not in the hallway of destruction. He was not in the room of darkness with one little light around a small control booth. He was not in the air ducts of misery. He was any where to be found. “Rodriquez? Please contact me somehow. ...But don’t get yourself killed.” Nefarius had used the intercom. It was his only choice. He heard a scream. Checking the monitors, he saw that it was only another useless hero screaming his lungs out as he slowly melted into a pit of lava. Too bad the monitors only showed rooms where heros were dying. There were fifteen such monitors going at once. Then it happened. Rodriquez must have pushed something right. It showed him in a room, setting up giant bear traps. He was found! Nefarius was overjoyed. Now...If you he could just remember how to get to that room. Was it past the lasers of scintiallating delight? Or through the icepicks of death? Had he remembered to tip the pizza delivery boy? And were was that boy, anyhow? It was over 30 minutes ago that he had placed that call. He looked a monitor. A pool of quicksand had a pizza and a pizza hat floating on top of it.
Oh, well. He thought, at least it is free.

237 words in 5 minutes

Nefarius was baffled. By the time he had finally figured out a way to get to Rodriquez, he was finished with the bear traps, and working in another room. After another 30 minutes search, during which he found the pizza, and consummed it, Nefarius finally found him. Rodriquez, after years of mopping bloody floors was actually a genius? Why had he never told Nefarius? Why had Nefarius never asked? So much precious time wasted! So much to do. Rodriquez was in the final stages of programming the defendo-death bots. They would repair and replace any missing parts. Anything at all, really. Then there were the traps. Self-automating. The sophistication was staggering. Man, thought Nefarius, Rodriquez always seemed to have a big head, but I had no idea.
“Rodriquez”, he said tentatively, “I’m sorry for making you mop all those years. I never knew you were a genius.”
“Oh, that’s all right Nefarius,” he said “it took me that long to incorporate your nanobots into my brain. They have just completed augmenting my brain power to genius level.”
“I have a question for you,” said Nefarius. “One not to be taken lightly. Would you...” He paused, how best to put this? he wondered. “Would you... like to go on a picnic with me?”
“Oh, Nefarius, I would be delighted!”

218 in 5 minutes

It was a good plan. A worthwhile plan. But it did not work. They had no picnic basket. Nor did they have any watermelon. Only crocodile. No sandwich bread, only poison. No mustard, only mustard gas. They began to shout at one another. They screamed. They could not control it. The monsters in the lonely pit of eternal damnedness looked askance. The poisonous snakes in the pit of eville looked shocked. Then they really began to fight. They hissed. They slapped each other silly, and they called each other ‘nancies’. Afterwards they were ashamed. They decided to forget the whole episode and go on a quest instead. Everything was taken care of. Rodriquez had seen to it. There was only one problem. Where was the exit. They were very leary of the door marked “exit”. They tricked a yellow suited spandex wearing “super” hero to go through first. They quickly decided on another way, as he melted in a pile of ooze. Then, they had a brilliant idea. Working as a team, they found a window, successfully opened it, and went out. There next problem, of course, was how to get down from the roof. They decided to take the waiting helicopter. The spandex wearing “super” hero would not ned it anymore. Rodriquez flew. Nefarius used the radio. They were off. What a slendid day it was, indeed. Their castle, from the air did look forboding, and there was a very long line of heros, superheros, mutant-powered, spandex-wearing he-men and bikini clad women waiting to get in, in order to find them and attempt to end their evil reign. Nefarius sighed heavily. All the peons under his oppression had universal health care. There was no crime to speak of, and the schools were excellent. Still, he thought, there was no pleasing some people.

304 in 5 minutes

1011 so far, from 9:05 to 9:41. a 36 minute interval.

nanonovel Part III

2004-11-15T15:10:00.000-08:00

c. 2004 S. Fuller
507/12132

Part III, ch. 1 (because I did not like part II).

Edger went into the galley. There he found a piece of paper with the following written on it:

End of the novel:

people destroy milky way galaxy.

bumbling heros on the starship "Cranky" crash into moon where base for destroying the galaxy is, Edger arrives and uses his third (and final) wish to restore everything as it was (more or less).

He used his second wish somehow, but refused to use his third wish, even though he was in several near death situations and the Djenni said it was perfectly all right, and other people had done the same in the past. In fact a lot of people had.

Other threads/plot intersections:

What about elves who live under the desert of the Djenni's sand world?

What of Space vampires?

Who hired the Tricops to bomb the elven sand world?

The commander who destroyed the cheese world, ate the grilled cheese, witnessed the testing of the doctor device of the people who want to destroy the galaxy, and killed off three main characters whom the author/narrator did not really want to write about and has a long to-do list does not get a name? And why doesn't he help stop the destruction of the galaxy? Will he be tied into Edger's plot line?

Is Edger really out of the plot for good? Or just until the end of the novel.

What happens after Susan is floating in space and that desk is still stalking her?

That girl, Jessie, has been exposed to acid-gas. She was supposed to make it back to the bombed out building, but the only source of water for her to wash off with is in the street where the water main broke. And everyone's shooting. That plot seems interesting, just a lot of work. It is not really flowing.

Don't Nefarius and Rodriquez end up being good guys? Don't they try and stop the destruction of the galaxy? Aren't they a vague tribute/rip-off of Douglas Adams style of writing?

"Oh, sure," he said. "Are you just trying to get me help you along with your novel? Well I won't do it."

Then, because he sensed it more than heard it, he said, "No, I won't help you cheat by describing recipes that I am thinking of making. The ship's larder does not have those things."
You will not help, even a little?
"Well, all right. All I will say, is that you were realistic about the amount of time you had when you started. You had 9 days out of 15 to really work on the novel, and by that standard, you are only a little behind on the word count."
He scribbled some figures down on the back of the paper.
"Here, look." He said

He had written the following:

11625/ 9 = 1291 2/ 3

5000/ 3 = 1666 2/ 3

difference is 375 words / day.

Lastly he said, "I'll be back for the end of the novel... maybe."
The ship continued into the void towards the edge of known space.

3212

2004-11-15T14:33:00.000-08:00

3,212 is the number of extra words I would have if I somehow managed to include everything I've written for this blog into the nano novel part part of the blog. That still would put me shy of 15k by about 150 words.

I'm starting to think this is futile, but I don't want to give up. But I think I will be miffed at mysfelf if I fall short of the 50k.

I talked to my housemate. He cheered me up the last time I was having "issues" with my nanonovel. I told him that about the 4k words/4 hours per day. He liked the part about "well, I won't be writing during the time I have off for Thanksgiving" part. It was his kind of thinking. He also said that if I really wanted to finish it, I would be up to snuff all along. But then he saw that this did not make me happy, so he said that maybe he wasn't the best person to be giving advice about it. A nice guy, and good advice.

I tried an experiment where I tried to write as fast as I could for about an hour. When I am just writing it is about 1000 words/hour. This time it was about 1000 words/45 minutes. But I felt really stressed (and was late to my class), so I don't think I'll be doing that again.

Perhaps I'll ask the people on the nanowrimo.org site for help.

hmmm...

part II ch.1

2004-11-15T10:55:00.000-08:00

It is now part 2 of my novel, only because I can't remember exactly which chapter I was on.

I have decided not to give up.

In about 45 minutes, I managed 1076 words. Slightly above average, but not bad considering.

c. S. Fuller 2004 1076/11625 23.25% done.

PART II
Ch.1 Weird things happen

So, the narrator said, you appear to have reached Main Character status by now.
“bugger off’, said Edger. The Djenni looked at him quizzically. From his standpoint Edger wasn’t talking to anyone. Perhaps he was crazy. But then, the Djenni had had crazy masters before, and in terms of craziness, Edger was not that bad.
“I refuse to be part of your plan, whatever it is.” said Edger. “Djenni, take us out of orbit, and away the hell from here.”
He paused.
“By the way...do you have a name?”
The Djenni was startled. “No one has asked me that in for at least a millennium. I do have a name. It is Sam.”
“Right. Sam, get us the hell out of here. I do not care where to.”
They left the atmosphere and entered hyperspace.
Uh-oh, thought the narrator.

Meanwhile, Susan and the entire fleet had commenced battle on the third world of the Triumvirate. Unthinkable horrors began to be unleashed upon the planets surface. Vast swaths of delicate flora and fauna were being irrevocable wiped out. Suddenly, a small blip appeared on the radar screens.
“Sector 9, do you register any non-conformities?” The staff sergeant asked his contingencies. “Yes, sir. It appears to be small term fighters. They’re closing in fast. Hard flank to our right. We will radio the exact coordinates as they come in, sir, real time.”
“Thank you.”
Susan looked at Collin. He had a grim look on his face.
“Tactical blunder,” said the commander on deck.

The small fighters effortlessly began their assault. As the gigantic planet-busters continued to unleash untold horrors on the planet below, the fighters began their unmerciless sweep of the large fleet themselves. The mistake in information was a major error. The black box of the intelligence world had assured everyone involved that the planets were largely unprotected, and had a relatively small defense shield surrounding them. Within the first week, the gigantic force that Susan’s ship was coordinating and commanding had eliminated any threat from the surface. The blunder, of course, was that moving so quickly the fleet had only had time to mobilize the larger planet-smashing class ships. There was no support ships or support ships for inter-cruiser warfare. The fleet was largely unprotected.

One of the mediums sized ships managed to pull out of formation, cease its energy blast (it had only just began, and was not committed) and fire its emergency thrusters sideways, thus blocking off a large chunk of the sky as the small craft flew by. Two or three of the fighters, flying in tight formation, ran into the ship, but most managed to avoid it. Unfortunately, the collisions left the ship practically a derelict, and the small attacking ships scattered, and began to doing small, but precise damage on the fleet as a whole. This was disastrous as the half dozen small fighters plus the few battle-hardened captain’s yachts had just emerged to fend off the attack. It was a bloody war of attrition. As the larger ships began to sustain heavier damage, their various energy beams began to spray uncontrollably, damaging surrounding vessels. Susan knew they were not going to make it out in one piece when an orderly ran in with makeshift helmets. They all fit them over their heads. In battle mode, the entire crew wore slightly uncomfortable pressure suits which could be used in an emergency as makeshift space suits. The helmets were little more than a skeleton of metal over which they all stretched a special polymer. The electricity surged through the metal, making the polymer hard and also clear. It had the added benefit of making the contact between the suit and the helmet airtight. Susan attached the hose at her waist with the nozzle at the side of her desk and air began to pump through her suit. She was fine unless there was a major failing of certain back-up systems, or the ship broke in two.

She continued to coordinate the medium frigates, as was her job. An alarm began to sound. A heavy cruiser nearby suddenly exploded, sending a large chunk hurtling towards their ship. This is it, thought Susan. The piece impacted with their ship, cutting it cleanly in two. More alarms sounded. Susan became weightless and her suit bulged outwards as the cabin rapidly lost pressure. An emergency warning rang faintly in her ear. The air in her suit stopped flowing. A moment later, it began again through the small box at her waste. She had roughly ten minutes before that supply ran out. She detached herself from the hose, and pushed off her seat to go look for a proper space suit. As she launched herself out of the command center into the hallway, she noticed that the storage room with the desk had largely been demolished. The desk was quietly floating down the hallway towards her. Great she thought, just what I need.

On the outer moon where the gigantic wormhole generators were being constructed, an accident occured. The generators created black hole/white hole pairs that allowed the deadly doctor devices to go through the hole, and destroy the star. No matter could come back to the moon, but the hole allowed them a view on what was going on. Unfortunately, the devices they were using very briefly generated regular, two-way holes in the brief moment when they were created. Normally the hole destroyed any matter in the visinity in which it formed, but if something were going fast enough, it could pass through unharmed. The chances of this happening were so remote, no one bothered worrying about them any more.

Unfortunately, an event like that did occur this time. A large, black square spaceship leaped out of the void, and, travelling at tremendous speed, cut off the head of the chief engineer before disappearing into the void. Construction was ground to a halt for a week.

“What just happened,” asked Edger.
“I believe we just jumped through an artificially created wormhole. At our present velocity, it will take some time to estimate our new present location, but I would say it is a good bet that we jumped several hundred parsecs. May I take this time to remind you that if you die you lose your remaining two wishes?”
“Unh,” grunted Edger. Then, “is there a kitchen of some sort around here?”
“Third deck,” responded the Djenni.
Edger went to look for it.

my current nano status: vague funk

2004-11-15T08:35:00.000-08:00

Let's do a little math, first.

This past weekend my girlfriend came to visit. In terms of nanowrimo, I wrote nothing, as expected. If I wish to complete my nano novel, I will have to write 3k words per day for the remaining time. But I know this is unrealistic, as I will probably get little done over Thanksgiving. Since I leave for Thanksgiving on a Wednesday, and get back on a Sunday, I will not be writing for 5 out of the remaining 15 days. I have roughly 10k words at the moment, meaning I need 40k, or 4000 words a day (40k/10 days). My average appears to be about 1,000 words an hour, implying that I need to write for 4 hours everyday. This, I know, is sadly impossible.

In addition, my favorite character, Edger, told me to screw off when I mentioned that he was now the main character. He appeared, told me my novel sucks, and now wants out. Perhaps I'll think of something.

I finished last year's nano novel, but I bent the rules. True, everything I wrote was written in the month of November. However, little of the last 10k words had anything to do with anything. Of the remaining junk, there were actually 3 short stories that I had wanted to write for some time. They are still incomplete.

more space vampires

2004-11-12T14:28:00.000-08:00

c. 2004 S. Fuller
359/10908 21.8%

They locked the vampire in the storage room. There was a small window in the door for some reason. Captain Jennings spoke to it.
“Jeremiah? What is this all about?”
“There is a small shuttle filled with eight or ten vampires headed your way. It is posing as a government supply vessel come to restock your larder.”
“Why tell us this?”
“Because I do not want to see any of you get hurt.”
“No. Why are you really telling us this?” Captain Jennings knew vampires.
Jeremiah’s eyes flashed. But his voice remained calm. “I was thrown off the ship. We had overtaken the supply ship. I argued for mercy. I was in the minority position, so I lost. It is not on record that this ship is in docking orbit, Captain.” He said the last word with an extra emphasis.
Captain Jennings smiled faintly. “No, it is not.”
“Why did they not vaporize you when you were a safe distance from the ship?” asked Sarah. She still had the gun’s safety off. Chris had come up behind her. It still made nervous.
“That would have been too humane.” Again, Jeremiah’s use of the word humane had a certain hint of irony in it.
“But you and your kind are immortal, right?”
“There is much you do not know. Although the eventual depletion of my oxygen would be a supreme annoyance, it would not kill me. However, over time, my body would eat itself alive.” He paused, and then continued. “Although, I have been told that no space vampire has perished that way. They all go blood-crazy and bite themselves. As you know, even we vampires are not immune from a vacuum.”
He paused again. “Of course, even if one could maintain that level of ...sobriety,” he smirked again, “at this altitude one would encounter enough atmospheric drag to eventually re-enter the atmosphere. I would think that that would kill a vampire as well. So you see, the humane,” the ironical tone, but this time it sounded like he was trying to control his condescention “thing to do would be to destroy a vampire who is lost to the void.”

QBM

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summer

your purpose in life

I'm light as a feather

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Chudnovsky

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leave a comment, if you dare

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Bert and Ernie's favorite numbers

notes from the white erase board

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conspiracy

good day

18 o'clock

Tuesdays

I love Nigerian bank spam

this morning

college prank

break

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a clarification on a political issue

Dream

work

snow

Sideways

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sleep

AVP

right now

and another thing

WTF

new spam

this week

Can't wait for Spring Break 2005

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spam me!

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book list

Snow

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update

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ch. LAME!