oh ho!

NEIN!

But right now it's REX, and everybody gets a little warm and fuzzy inside when rush happens.

Senior Haus Rush is going well, which is awesome because it's been the thing which had been giving me mini-panic-attacks all summer.

But people seem to enjoy it.

Oh noes! I can't do pictures from the computer at desk!

Life:

Play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, play, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, first love, brief happiness, break up, regret, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, school, play, work, play, work, play, work, play, work, idealism, effort, rejection, failure, compromise, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, play, retire, play, die.

because seven ate nine...

She keeps getting stuck! I wonder how they do things like this. I spent 20 minutes watching this. Just keep refreshing, and she keeps falling!

Though I hope that, should I ever be the position in which I am falling indefinately amist bubbles, that I should not be able to bend completely in half at the waist. Interesting to note: she may bend over at the waist, but is incapable of doing the splits and getting through the bubbles that way.

I really want to go out and pick some flowers and put them in a little vase on the kitchen table. Sadly, it's 4:20 in the morning. (Oh ho!...ha) Maybe when I wake up (assuming that I do, in fact, go to sleep), I'll do that.

Oh Say can you See

I love this commerical. I watch it all the time. You should watch it too.

It would be so cool if I was able to do stuff like this.

Speaking of MIT... (we weren't really, but now that you bring it up...)

Schedules and advisors posted. Like the schedule, have yet to meet the advisor. John R. Williams. He has an MIT blog too.

six-six-six

Just a picture post. Potential ad poster for the haus.

I put a hex on you

I was just thinking happily of more angst-ridden days, and seemed to recall painting up this little beauty (which I titled affectionately "Don't Speak"). Suffice it to say, my artistic style has progressed past such things.

Although my artistic ability remains disturbingly low. I tend to believe that it is solely the fault of having failed to yet find the proper medium to display my art through. So far, favorites have included glass (stained and blown), and printing (linoleum, etching, etc.) I have been contemplating the possibility of setting up a miniature screen-printing press in my dorm room next year.

We'll see.

I am having a party tomorrow. I realize that this is trivial information and no one who reads this needs to know (let's be honest here... no one does read this.) But I enjoy pointing out such things for my own purposes.

I have a lot of cleaning to do tomorrow morning. And I have to phone in the sushi order (3x cucumber roll, 3x avocado roll, 2x sweet potato roll) so that it's ready for pickup at 6 PM. It doesn't help that I am forced into attending a going away/1st anniversary party in the afternoon.

Speaking of...

Religion.

Ok. So "where does the 'speaking of...' fit in?" My cousin got married last year at 18 (she's 2 months older than me) due to some weird religious thing and church pressure and no premarital sex. So then she flunked out of college. Only now she's going to a different one.

You don't really care. But the point is, I don't like religion.

But I wish I had a cooter that looked like Jesus. That's be awesome.

Four score

The bitches is crazy!

I want to find this person. And then ask them. What is going on here?

It may be evident at this point that I find extreme enjoyment in bad tattoos. And all that is implicated by their presence. And of course, there is the puzzlement that I find when I see something this terrible and wonder why someone would mar their body with that. But then again, this is exactly what my mother thinks when she looks at mine.

::le sigh::

I have a fiber deficiency. As a result, I am forced to eat a multitude of high-fiber high-gag-reflex foods such as bran fiber muffins and bran fiber cereal. Ill.

There is a lot to do before rush begins, and I haven't the energy to do anything. I've had a serious lower back injury, and surgery, and I'm not even on campus, so planning and action are not really happening. The attendance of Senior Haus representatives at DormCon meetings has been dismal to say the least. I just really hope that rush doesn't end up sucking and then I would feel like the failure is solely my fault. Which I know is crazy, but I always feel insecurities about things such as this.

But then again, if rush ends up rocking, I would be more than happy to take full responsability.

I want to do something with this image, except flipped on its side so that it resembles an infinity sign.

For those unfamiliar with the artist, it is Erte, one of my favorites. If you have an extra ~$100 to lose, I suggest Erte at Ninety: The Complete Graphics. We have this book at home and it is utterly wonderful.

Yay!

Magic number

Sex-me, baby!

I'm pretty sure that it would suck to go into space. There's sucky dried-out food-in-a-bag, motion sickness, and that feeling you get when you look outside. Heck, I even get that feeling sometimes looking into the night sky. (Often with chemical help).

The feeling: the universe is so enormous, and we're such a minimal and trivial part of its existence. There is more out there than I am incapable of even beginning to comprehend. And this scares me. I dislike the feeling of insignificance, and when I look up at the sky, I realize that I am even less that insignificant; I am nothing.

Cheery.

The house I live in doesn not have crown moldings. I love crown moldings. Were you aware that crown moldings began with the ancient Egyptians? They had good decorating sense.

Take my heart but please don't break it

It's in my favorite color palette in the world, neopolitan icecream colors.

AND it's from my one-and-only-favorite ReproDepot. As soon as it arrives, I will be making pillow shams. Pillow shams protect pillows. Pillows are cut open and used for drug storage. Drug storage is used for drugs. Drugs are used for pillow shams!

Marshmallows are sticky. And not vegetarian.

Don't go quoting "relevence" at me. There is none. Nor do I intend to feign relevence.

Le hibou!

I shant divulge into the importance of this single illustration which I found for the first time today, but it is a sketch of an owl done by Picasso.

I also adore Picasso's illustrations of doves.

Divulge me.

Summer has been emotionally draining. Between serious (semi-permanent) injuries and mentally exhausing surgery, I have not been experiencing what one would call a particularly enjoyable time. I'm not bitching; I have long since passed that phase and now have entered a state in which I am exhausted with my situation.

To put it in a summarized form, I want school to restart.

oh - how rudimentary!

I'm a strong believer in the infallible doctrine which states:
When Jesus and fiber-optics meet, all will become well within the disheviled state of our planetary existance.

I've somehow become addicted to the world of internet-based furniture design blogs. A sad and impedimenting addiction, it is difficult for me to focus on more important aspects of survival as long as I'm reading FunFurde, CoolHunting, and other such inequitous time-stealers.

And that's not even considering my need for intravenous Needled.com. It's not that I enjoy the opinions of others on trivial subjects; even with people I know I rarely feel the need to seed out every view they hold. But with these pointless blogs, I find myself enthralled, addicted, unable to stop myself from following every link, reading every comment, evaluating and annotating the blogger's views.

So I supposed this brings me to my next wonderful point.
Me.

Why in the sand-blazes of hell would I want to start a blog for myself? Is it not enough to have my emo little livejournal for chronicalling all the boring emotional semi-feelings which I want to whine about, although keeping it tailored to the reading audience? Yeah, I guess not.

And on that note, I wish I had a bubble-gum vending machine.