summability

Let’s talk about last week. On the Monday I handed in my 18-page term paper, weighing in at about 4100 words (“A Critique of the New Urbanism: Concepts and Applications”). Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I spent about 8 hours each day in the Planning Studio working on my drawings, and on Thursday I spent 16 hours in the Studio (from noon to 3:40AM) before handing them in mere hours later at 9:30 Friday morning.

So that left me pretty fucking burnt out. In addition, I have taken an eggbeater to my sleeping patterns. Friday night I think I did something. I honestly can’t recall. Same with Saturday and Sunday. I know things happened, various drinking and debauchery and the like, but none of it is tied down to a particular day or time or location.

For two or three nights in a row (after Friday night) I began to go to bed at 7am and wake at noon or 2pm ish. Yeah…

Monday night I went on a walk with Yuriy, and what was intended to be 10 or 15 minutes turned into 6 hours, a movie (The Take), and 3 pints of beer each. Finally got around to trying Guiness and Kilkenny in a bar setting with the proper nitrogen taps and whatnot.

I had an essay due Monday at 4pm. I started it 4am on Monday, worked for a half hour and got halfish of it done (remarkable 700 words of good quality in 30 min, I was happy) and then spent 2 hrs more (after getting some sleep) polishing it and bringing it up to 1500 words.

Uhm. Tuesday. Tuesday, tuesday, tuesday. That would be today. I did shit all. I changed my sheets. I’m looking forward to sleeping in them… mmm. I’m not going to let any women defile these sheets for the time being, too much crap to get done with finals and the like. I always get excited when I put on new sheets. You’d think it would get old but it is really quite satisfying. I just want to melt into them and not wake up or talk to another soul again, ever.

Never… destroy us.

It rained today. A lot. Blegh. They predicted snow, turns out we just got rain. I hate rain here. It’s cold and unwelcoming, not like the warm Vancouver hippie rain that I am used to. The rain in Vancouver is actually tears shed by US war-deserters and pot smokers that fled into BC. I swear. It’s salty and life bringing.

I got a letter published in the NOW, even though I’m three timezones away. Delightful. Granted, they publish everything I write, even the letter suggesting we elect Jack Layton’s wicked moustache as Prime Minister (I think I compared his lip warmer to Stalin’s, and then suggested other commonalities).

Oh, and I’m going crazy. I was walking down a hallway in res and happened to be idly looking at the wall as I walked… eventually I passed a window and noticed a floormate studying at the kitchen table, toaster perched beside him. I walked in and informed him that his toaster was studying.

Those toaster bitches. One day they will rise against us, of this I am sure. What side will you be on at the day of reckoning?

I was playing Obie Trice today because his lyrics are hilarious, he has catchy tunes, and the bass track is impressive. Plus I wanted to annoy those living below me with the aid of my Subwoofer of Truth. While listening to him I was drinking from a giant 1L apple juice box.

I just thought you all should know that.

roll the dice

November 30, 2004

an actual entry 🙂 i feel so special. like in the special olympic way. i’ve not nearly had it as rough as you, yet again, some creepy 26 year old asian pimpmaster isn’t stalking you. should i let him down by tellin ghim that i prefer the lbs? I’d say that im surprised by the fact that you don’t want the “women” PLURAL defiling your sheets…but I’m not. here’s to you pimpmaster browne.

oh btw, i like the word pimpmaster. and ryn: i do not believe that growing balls is the answer. perhaps a lobotomy. nice colors, much nicer than the barf motif you had before. -lindsey.

apple juice is awesome..yay for finally updating

Not For Sale

December 1, 2004

god i love the one liter apple juice boxes. did you know that you cannot buy big boxes of juice in this despicable country? and don’t even get me started on the actual quality of the apple juice. horendous. tragic.

I believe res life has made you partially insane… well, partially more than you were before. Or something. I think not being on res has made me insane. Does that make sense? And your essay escapades are a lot more hardcore than mine. I salute you, sir.

Miro

December 7, 2004

ryn: eh, terminar is to finish or to stop. you’re half-right, which is what counts. lol

the only thing better than clean sheets are clean blankets hot out of the drier, and there is nothing, absolutely NOTHING better than rain. and when it comes to the great toaster apocalyps, i’m siding with the sock puppets. college life does not make people insane… it merely weeds out the standard from the origional… at least, that’s what i like to tell myself.

ryn… i love politics with a sense of humor. and i love countries that allow them to use that sense of humor. america is so bloody uptight. and stupid. i mean for goodness sake, someone sued mcdonalds because their coffee was so hot that it burned said person when he spilled it in his lap. there’s something so incredibly sad about that.

we’ve got the constitution protecting us from the government, but at the moment what we need more is something protecting us from ourselves. we need to get america a shirt that just says “breathe.” maybe then people would calm down and think things through rationally. i love the sound of your prime ministers, though. i’d love a fry, thanks… -Kelsey-

haha.. ok, just gotta add one last thing. your fry story reminded me of a hobby of my friends.. driving annoying people completely insane. his newest method.. you know how mcdonalds, etc give out those little packets of katsup? well, you grab a bunch of those.. head out to the parking lot.. and put them behind the tires of parked cars.. then find a hiding place and watch. much fun! k, going now..