evilhippo: hippo (108 [baffled])
( Jan. 27th, 2010 06:15 pm)
Apparently there's a point you can reach with a client when you're micro-managing parts of their day-to-day you really, under no circumstances, have any business advising on. Today I got this message:

"If I have to pp let me know if I should do it for 30 or 60 days. Thanks!"

I still haven't managed to come up with a response. I want to say "Please do do the needful."

Also, yes, I am about three.
evilhippo: hippo (71 [o rly?])
( Aug. 11th, 2008 05:55 pm)
On my way through downtown yesterday, I was nearly destroyed by the number of tourists just milling around and looking somewhat lost and fascinated. On a whim (because these whims often dictate my existence on weekends), I ducked into a nearly-empty coffee shop, make my order to a glassy-eyed barista, was informed they couldn't take my $20, and then moved on down to wait for my (meticulously-prepared, in a way only achieved by not really knowing what you're doing) drink. I was followed a few moments later by a fairly typical large midwestern Tourist Man, who marched up to the counter, small swarm of fellow tourists in tow, and began thus:

Man: I want a coffee.
Glassy-eyed Barista: *nod*
Man: I want ice in it.
Barista: ...
Man: And I want it all blended up.
Barista: ...
Man: You understand?

I then had a very difficult time obtaining my drink and leaving with a straight face. In hindsight, though, this is probably how I should have ordered my drink as well.

In other news... Old Town Aquarium is not, as I thought, actually a bar, but is in honest goodness an aquarium/fish store. I met a hover-slug there. It was really nice. (I want a hover-slug. I don't know what he was really called, but he was adorable, in a kind of squishy sea creature way.)
All right... I finally finished Deathly Hallows. It took me about a day and a half, but I've been bustling about with other things (which I'm going to avoid complaining about for a while, because I'm rather angry with the world and that's nothing new, so people don't need to hear me going on about it anymore).

(If you want to remain completely pure, avoiding even name spoilers, you probably just want to stop now, because I'm not careful. I think it's silly to avoid name spoilers, but this is your warning.)

As far as non-spoilery comments go... there were far too many laughable phrases. I'll admit that I didn't catch the slashy and perverse ones that everyone else has picked up on, but there were some amazingly bizarre names. And sometimes the bluntness of what was going on was a bit much. Also, I refuse to believe that a legendary wand could become known as the "Deathstick." That's just... (and I apologize to everyone I've pestered over IM about this already) does it give you cancer or something? Deathstick? Seriously? (Also, the lines about Hermione's voice reaching a pitch audible only by bats and Xenophilius burning underpants for dinner... she couldn't have taken this seriously.) But I'll start by saying that I enjoyed it, because that way I can get away with nitpicking and complaining about the rest of it, because I'm like that.

So this is spoilers )

As an aside... if it was up to me, the book would've ended with Harry's death, and Voldemort once again a ghostly version of himself telling one of his staunch supporters (probably Bellatrix) that he would have to lower himself to living on gathering his power from under the beds of muggle children. But that's because I'm evil. (Also, while I'm being evil, even though my icon is unimportant to the grand scheme of the plot, anyone who hasn't read the book is encouraged to believe that it's simply a snide commentary on the overwhelming commercialism of this franchise. And the fact that I was able to find stacks of the book everywhere I went, even the day the book was released. And the fact that Harry Potter is a Cylon.)

So now I leave you with a lolspeak omake that probably says more than necessary about my state of mind while reading the book.

I can has deathstick nao? )
evilhippo: hippo (58 [yip yip])
( May. 16th, 2007 02:16 pm)
You know... it's about time I had an appropriately embarrassing story to write about here. So! I spent this morning looking at apartments. I got up, and headed back up to Andersonville, where I met with these apartment-finder guys. I was afraid of them, but they were super-nice, and I saw three apartments. All of which were nice, but not super-nice. And so I chatted a bit, got a rental application, and went on my way to my noon appointment.

Noon appointment was with guy-named-Iulian-(whose name I thought was Julian)'s father who speaks no English (that was a lie, he knew about five words). Judging by Iulian's accent, and his name (which I thought was Julian), I assumed he was Spanish. I figured, hey, I can learn enough Spanish to get myself through seeing the apartment. (Basically "Hola, estoy aqui para ber el apartemento" and "so liente, no hable espanol." Getting this straight involved a last-minute call to one of my friends at home, who laughed at me, mocked my accent, and then spelled things for me.) I rang the buzzer at noon, and he let me in. At the door on the top floor, stood a shortish happy-faced man who didn't look Hispanic in the least. This SHOULD HAVE BEEN MY FIRST CLUE. I mumbled my apologies for only speaking English, and thanked him in Spanish. He smiled and nodded, and started showing me around. The tour was largely a game of charades, which got complex enough to tell me where I was supposed to take the garbage, and I'm pretty sure I gave the dish-washer a thumbs-up, because by that point I was super-flustered, having gotten very confused when there were doi refrigerators and not dos... and that there were two refrigerators. Eventually we moved back into the office, where he asked me to sit down, and I continued to sort of look around awkwardly, and attempted to tell him, in Spanish, that I liked the apartment. The conversation from there went something like this... (Oh this is so embarrassing.)

Me: Er... uh. Me gusta... el apartemento.
Man: ::blank stare::
Me: Er, um... sorry! Uh, I really don't know Spanish.
Man: ::odd look::
Me: No habla espanol?
Man: Spanish? No! Romana! American, right?
Me: (Omg omg omg, I am an idiot. Romana? ...Gypsies? Time Lords? ...Rome?... Italy. Italian!) Oh! Oh, no wonder. Yeah. Ha. I don't know a word of that! Wow.
Man: You know... uh... Nadia Comaneci. ::complex hand motions indicating gymnastics::
Me: Ohhhh. (What? The gymnast? What is going on here?) Yes, I know of Nadia Comaniche (yay, Americanized pronunciation, this is so embarrassing).
Man: Yes.
Me: Um... tu parles francais, peut-etre? (Crap, that was disrespectful. Crap. Vous.)
Man: ::blank stare:: No...
Me: Ah. ::nervous arm flailing:: It's the only other language I know, sorry! ::half-mumbled:: Worthatry.
Man: You call my son? ::points to the sign on the window::
Me: Er, yes, I called him already.
Man: ::gesticulates more:: Call my son. He speaks... perfect English.
Me: Yes, all right. (What am I going to say to him?)
Man: ::points to window::
Me: ::shows phone number in phone... calls son:: Er, hi, Julian?
Iulian: Hello, yes?
Me: Hi, er, Iulian, this is [evilhippo], I'm at the apartment.
Iulian: Hello, yes? What?
Me: This is [evilhippo], I'm at the apartment, er, I was wondering (say something useful!) how much do utilities usually run?
Iulian: What?
Me: (Omg, my reception is not this bad!) Er, yes, I'm at the apartment, with your father. I like it. How much do the utilities usually run?
Iulian: I am busy, can you call back later?
Me: Oh, right, um, sorry. Sure. Fine, yeah. ::hangs up... even more embarrassed smile:: He's busy.
Man: Oh, work, yes. Call at 5. ::draws five on the table::
Me: Right, er, thank you. ::nervous hand-wringing::
Man: ::leads back towards door:: Water. ::draws on arm::
Me: (Water? Did he understand the utilities question?) Water?
Man: Walking.
Me: ...(What is going on here?!) Walking?
Man: Yes, walking. ::points east:: That.
Me: Oh, the lake. Yes, I walked there already. It's... very close.
Man: ::nods, smiling::
Me: ::at door:: Uh, thank you. Again. And, er, sorry ::mumbles:: I don't speak... yeah. ::not mumbling:: It was nice meeting you.
Man: ::nods, smiles, stands at door to see off::

The worst part was that I didn't even figure out it was Romanian until I was walking around afterwards. I continued to think it was Italian! Wow. Hello, world, I am a stupid English-speaker, and all other languages sound the same to me. (Okay, I can tell French from Spanish, and Chinese from Japanese, but that's it. Everything else? Apparently the same. Romanian! Freaking Romanian! He might as well have spoken Basque! I feel like such a... I don't even know. Wow. And yet I still want the apartment.)
The AOL news headlines I'm greeted with whenever I log out of my e-mail are always entertaining... in a kind of pathetic way. I've run into quite a few news stories riddled with typos. Most of the time, though, it's at the end when people are supposed to have stopped paying attention. Today, however...


That's right. Angels have come to earth to change the colours of our cars (feature not available on all models). I kind of have to wonder what I would've found out if I'd clicked on "How it Works." Pulling up the good old OED, I see that there are many things an "angel" can be. Most of them are corporeal. Lots of them with wings. A few of my favourites, though, are "8. slang. A financial backer of an enterprise, esp. one who supports a theatrical production." and "10. An ‘unexplained’ mark on a radar screen." There's no mention of paint in any of these definitions, so I can only imagine that the cause of this paint-change is actual angels. And not angel-clones, but actual diverse angels. (Are angels diverse? Most of the pictures I've seen make them look pretty homogenous.) Unless "different angels" is one concept. Maybe they're fallen angels who couldn't get any other work? "Will perform minor color-change miracles on your car for..." um... angels aren't supposed to desire anything, are they? Though that could be why they're fallen. Or maybe it's traditional angels and unexplained marks on radar screens together, making it two different kinds of angels. Or there have been colour-change angels all along, like the ones in charge of iridescent paint, and now these are different ones.

I wonder how closely-guarded these angel secrets are in the car industry. Do you think I could e-mail them and ask them to clear it up for me?

(The headline plus the other story there also makes me think of something like "Some New Cars Are Not On Fire")
evilhippo: hippo (38 [what?])
( Apr. 4th, 2007 01:27 pm)
Me: ::walks into room across hall... glances at TV:: Hey guys... is this Battletoads?
Guy 1: Yes, yes it is.

Number of non-incidental 4chan references: 0.
Number of times this has happened: OVER NINE THOUSAND at least 3.

I'm not sure whether I should be amused, embarrassed, or both.
evilhippo: hippo (58 [nostalgia])
( Jun. 7th, 2006 06:18 pm)
I think it's a fact of life that packing = bizarre nostalgia. For some reason, I still have a notebook I kept as a journal in 8th grade. I only ever read through it when I'm moving things. So that means I pick it up about twice a year. Once when I move out, once when I move back in. It follows me everywhere, and I'm still not entirely sure why. And now really isn't the time for nostalgia, because I still have a lot of writing to get finished, but I also need to be mostly packed in less than 24 hours if I want to get my things sent home, so...

It's especially odd this year, reading through the notebook. Usually I can manage a sort of detached embarrassed amusement at it and get a good laugh. I mean, the first line is "the light is low and dim, it matches my mood." Somehow, nearly eight years after I started writing it (9-24-98 at 8:38pm is the first entry in it), this is the first time the total self-confidence-lacking 8th grader has come through... and been me, too. With a bit less variation in sentence structure, and a bit lacking in proper spelling, and embarrassingly much on the middle school crushes and desire to write rather Sueish fanfiction (one plot for an Animorphs series starring my friends and me, though I had the strength to avoid giving myself Jake's position as leader, and another starring three Andalite girls, whose names I believe I culled from lists of obscure Indian tribes who became Warrior-Princesses. Yep)... but it's still me. And now I'm all "aww, I've always been a dork like this!" It sort of reaffirmsentry for the my existence despite the countless existential crises I've had this year. I mean, the entry for the 3rd of October starts "Okay, dilemma time. I want to write ANIMORPHS [inexplicably in all caps and printed, the rest is in a larger, neater version of my standard cursive] fan-fic [sic] and post it on Chee's message board, but I'm pretty much out of ideas. I've got one I think will work, about how the female Andalites feel. I need a good name for it though, something Chronicles or trilogy..." Once a fannish, writer-y dork, always a fannish, writer-y dork, I guess. I won't even go into the school-related stuff in here, though. I just can't believe how I appear to have been just as stressed about things in 8th grade as I am now. That's just... it was 8th grade. I'm not even sure I actually had homework! I guess I just take everything overly seriously. Or not seriously enough.

So, moving on from that particular yearly boobytrap I set for myself, I decided that sorting my books wasn't the biggest problem, because whether those ended up in storage or at home wouldn't matter too much, so I moved into the bedroom to clean things out under my bed. Where I discovered the un-read copies of people's comments. I skimmed over them, and they were mostly positive, telling me things I already knew were wrong. Then I hit one that pointed out that the second line of the second paragraph accidentally rhymed. Thrice. And I went "hmm, interesting that you noticed that." The actual response contained this paragraph, which for right now is my favourite thing anyone's said about my writing this quarter, and in addition to amusing me greatly, it's made me think:

Fantasy is useless, but you're better than some people... )

Edit of Random Nostalgianess 1 [8:08]: So, I've made it through 2/3 of my desk drawers... I got to the second drawer down, and for once had no qualms about throwing away the old syllabi and such. Then I saw the Stack of Notebooks. I am a packrat when it comes to notebooks. And I decided "All right, I'm doing good... I'll finally throw these away. They take up a lot of space." And naturally, as all notebooks are able to force me to do, I opened them. Discovering therein a plethora of senior-year physics quizzes full of ridiculous puns and overemphasized punctuation (and one with a post-it from the prof making fun of my principal). An in-depth sountrack I'd made for my last year of high school. The evolution of my college-level margin doodles/ramblings from my junior year of high school on. I think I've got a horrible thing for written nostalgia in the form of notebooks. They are my weakness! I don't know if I've just taken increasingly disorganized notes over the years, or less in classes has seemed important, or if I've just had a tendency to take more and more disorganized classes. I have the oddest feeling it's the latter, though, just by virtue of the fact that most of the earlier ones were in math and science, and now I'm an English major. Figures, don't it?
evilhippo: hippo (71 [o rly?])
( Mar. 14th, 2006 07:59 pm)
As with all fill-in-the-blank memes, there is a point where the insult just fails. I believe tonight I may have pinpointed that exact spot.

Roomie: Oh yeah? Well, I have respect for YOUR MOM!
Rest of the Bus: ...
Roomie: (a moment later, probably realizing the problem here) ... cause she's hot.

Ladies and gentlemen, now you know. Think before you make a your mom joke. The rest of the bus may laugh silently, but your roommates will not.
So, I told myself last night that I should actually write about the Nonsense Class I sat in on yesterday (incidentally, there was also some neat fog around two last night). Some people may question why I would sit in on a three-hour class that was basically nonsense to me. However, in hindsight (and even while writing in the margins of my notebook) it was worth it for the whole college experience. Where college is made up of upper-level grad students in sociology, which is apparently a subject that has taken it upon itself to re-define lots and lots of words that would make sense normally.

The course description made sense, I swear it did. And if I was going to leave at all, it should have been after I was handed the fifteen-page syllabus full of disjointed readings. Oh, and about halfway through the course outline there was something about "feminism." That should have tipped me off. But I desperately needed a class (I didn't even know at the time how desperately I needed a class!) so I stuck around, figuring it might get better or something. In fact, the first half of the class pretty much made sense. If I'd done the reading, it might have made more. But the whole time I had this vaguely unsettling feeling that the words they were using, though they made sense to me, were not being used in the same way that normal people used them. I sat... took notes... made eye contact with the prof a few times, because she was oddly friendly like that, and would watch you if you were watching her. For some reason, this didn't freak me out. After a while, though, things just started sailing over my head and I ended up preoccupying myself with placing the prof's accent. (At the start of the break I found out it was German because all her computer menus were in German, and then I moved on to trying to figure out if the softness of it was because she was taught in the UK, or if something else was in there.) After the break, though, was discussion. There were little bits and pieces here and there during lecture, which is part of what kept me around. We had That Girl (which is different from That Guy, in my experience. It's just been this year, but That Girl is always eastern European and questioning the professor. Sort of interesting, though it never ever brings up anything that's useful to me). We also had this big, well-spoken guy whose voice sounded like he could sit around talking on NPR all day. And he was into this strange sociology stuff. He had a habit of talking about how things had blown his mind in the most amazed tone of voice. There was another girl that was unremarkable other than the fact that every time she spoke, my mind immediately overwrote the scene into something that looked like it belonged in Waking Life. I think that had to do with the tone of her voice, too. I think I spent most of the class, actually, thinking about people's voices and the voice acting training it would take to get them right. Though at some point I was distracted enough in my notes to try to figure out which month and day were most aesthetically pleasing. Which was inspired by seeing January written upside-down in the one guy's planner and thinking it looked sort of pretty. As you can see, I was sort of torn between Wednesday and Thursdsay. Oh, and marvel at my awesomely bad doodles. And yes, that does say "transsexual lab" and no, I don't know what that had to do with anything. I think the explanation was something along the lines of considering the time spent in society after a gender-change operation to make sure you're adjusted before you're allowed to change your name can be considered a lab. (See, I was paying some attention while doodling things in my notebook. And if you were wondering about "karaoke bar?" there... it has nothing to do with anything real, and more to do with busting fictional characters out of rock star bootcamps in Japan.)

This does lead me to the best part of the class, though... on the whole, I became increasingly certain that there were lots of words that meant things that I did not know they meant. Like lab. Then my favourite enthusiastic grad student, at the end of another girl's presentation on "the Factory as a Lab" he breaks out with "Wow! That just blew my mind! What you said... what you suggested about a church being a lab. Wow. That... that would be really interesting to look into. Just like your theory on the retail store; the way they modify reality for participants. Wow. It's like, a total black box." I'm thinking maybe church means what I think it means, but that's about it.

Honestly, though, I couldn't even tell you what the class was about, though, aside from the fact that Laboratory was the most-used word. It was definitely sociology... and I definitely know now, by virtue of the fact that I can't even picture myself sitting in a class and being that exited about re-defined words (and not the fact that they've been re-defined), that sociology is not a field for me. So yay, experience! It probably isn't fair to judge it on this class... but not having even the slightest interest should be enough of a tip-off. And I went and sat in on Biological/Cultural Evolution today... in an hour and a half a lot of things were said that did not make sense to me, but at least they were nonsense in interesting ways that were also rooted to things that I actually knew about. (Even Dawkins... and the Red Queen Hypothesis. You know... things I'm familiar with.) Oh, and they were in reference to culture. A lot like Nonsense Class was... only sensical. And thankfully the professor will still let me in, so I once again have three classes and won't have to be a part-time student and drop out or something. Now all I need to do is sort out the mess with my fourth class.
I figure while I'm wasting time instead of writing my response for Civ (which, amazingly enough, I've noticed at least two other people are doing over on the uchicago community) I should make an attempt to write something that is not only not complaining, but also not emo. I'm in a good mood today, I think I can pull it off. I almost had a decent post written out in my head earlier today, but I didn't really sit down in front of the computer for long enough to write it since I've had such a pile of reading staring me down all day.

I figure at least I got through French today. I had to turn in four assignments. Four! And I'm not even behind on things. That's how much was due today! But this is borderline complaining, so I'll let it pass. It turns out that everyone else had a ton of trouble with the assignment, so we stood around outside the room complaining about it before class today and it was cathartic and good. Then I tried to buy my packets for Civ and Darwin (I love how the first verb that's been occuring to me today for "buy" is "achèter"), but the office was closed so I ran to lunch and then bought them. Luckily they turned out to be an even ten dollars, so I didn't have to worry about not having change. And, on a whim, I finally made an apointment with my advisor. I think it was because I was feeling oddly competent today or something. I go through mood swings like that. Hopefully I'll still be feeling competent when I go to see my advisor next Monday.

Heh, then I came back to the dorm and did some reading... and fell asleep on the couch and woke up terrified that I'd forgotten to go to class or missed a deadline or something else scary like that. I stared at the clock for about a minute wondering 1) why it was five and 2) where it was, exactly, that I was supposed to be. I'm still not sure, but that's okay.

For some reason, while reading Herodotus, this seemed like a really awesome sentence: "For my part I know of no river called Ocean, and I think that Homer, or one of the earlier poets, invented the name, and introduced it into his poetry." I don't know why.

All right, since I've had this entry minimized on my taskbar here for the last three hours I think I'll go get something done. I should really do more of my Darwin reading before this year-old plot bunny gnaws through the last of my reserves and forces me to finally get around to finishing this story of mine. It's only been a year since I finished chapter two and outlined the rest of the plot because, apparently, an incredibly obvious and easy way out of my little plot/timeline problem took a year to occur to me. Go me. (We'll do our best to ignore the fact that the plot's been done to death already and it's a huge cliché... my ending's different).

And a bonus, non-academic IM quote for fun )
evilhippo: hippo (6 [yay])
( May. 2nd, 2005 12:27 pm)
Okay... I'm going to try to use actual sentences in this entry. And since my paper is done and I'm slightly less stressed (you should see the pile of reading I have for tonight) we should be okay... First of all, it needs to warm up. Like, now. Days with a high of 48 at the start of May are just wrong. I'm tired of this overcast crap, it's depressing everyone and making our lives miserable. This had better be one awesome weekend so I can go outside to write my Sosc paper.

I had this strange dream last night that people on IRC were yelling at me for pasting things into the chat more than once, and I was trying to make excuses about it that had something to do with [livejournal.com profile] chocolatemoose but I'm not sure why. Then next thing I knew I was trying to move out of the dorm and my dad had come to pick me up and I had everything packed into boxes in the corner of my room, but I had to go make one last lap around campus or something. Only campus was huge (and, unfortunately, still grey and cold). I wandered around the grey and cold side for a while, then somehow ended up on the other side where it was sunny and warm (and really humid). There was this pool covered in a tarp that I jumped into with my iPod, but I inisisted to the shocked bystanders that the cover made it waterproof and it'd be fine. Then everyone else jumped in the pool and I got out and left. And for some reason after this point all I can remember is the water temple from Ocarina of Time. Err...

Oooh, and I've got a funny story for everyone. See, we've been having trouble with our campus e-mail for the past few days, and so I haven't been able to use my address book properly. This would be fine, but I tend to typo on e-mail addresses I'm sure of. Like my mom's for example. Otis206@aol.com. Well... I attempted to send her an e-mail about working on my costume this weekend, but sent it to Otis026 instead. Otis026 is a guy from Long Island who writes very, very bad poetry. Well not poetry so much as things like this: "When i first looked into your eyes. Your soul touched me . I knew we had been there before. You were so enticing. I couldnt believe i had gone through life without you. Where had you been . It was wonderful, the way you took me to the deepths and hieghts of my wildest dreams. By simply looking into my eyes. To show you what you mean to me, I gave my heart to you without reservation. Thats when we know our endless nights. Endless nights of loneliness and yearing where over". And yes, it just ends like that. The best part though, is how gloriously strange my e-mail is out of context. Now... put yourself in the mind of some indeterminately-aged Long Islander who writes things like that. And click the cut.

Best random e-mail to get, ever )

I mean, it's bad enough in context. I also love how I never gave any indication that it was intended for my mom, and not some random Long Islander who writes badly-romantic things that trail off to nowhere. Hehehehe. (Omg, there is actually a blockquote tag! I thought I was just making that up...)
evilhippo: hippo (13 [writing])
( Apr. 15th, 2005 11:38 am)
Just as I predicted, after giving up the external hard drive on Wednesday the computer downstairs finally finished chkdsk. And now I can't let the poor girl start her computer up for fear that it might die after four hours like it did last time. Le sigh.

So, yesterday was sort of random. Sosc was awesome, if only for the Ninja Rescue in Montana example. It went something like "Okay, suppose 'The Man' kidnaps your girlfriend and holds her hostage in a compound in Montana. So you decide to rescue her, and ask all your friends with ninja skills to help out. Like me. And, you've got all these ninjas and you go into Montana and... umm... I don't remember where I was going with this. I think I got caught up in how cool ninjas are." Best. example. ever.

After Sosc I spent like, half an hour talking to a friend of mine about our final projects for the Tolkien class and how if we're allowed to create our own world and not just write fanfiction it'd be so much more fun. (Because, let's face it, Tolkien's got far too huge of a canon to learn properly in ten weeks). Then we complained about having to fill out all our financial aid papers. Blah. Afterwards I ran to lunch then came back here and began my search for music. I came up with a ton of random things laying around on Amazon and Epitonic, but somehow have yet to decide what I'm taking from iTunes. I'm indecisive like that.

Then, Skirtpants came over and harassed me for a good twenty minutes to go downtown to the art store with him because he didn't want to go alone or something. I refused for a good amount of time, but he was relentless so I caved to get him to shut up. And of course things took forever at the art store and I ended up buying myself a sketch book and a brush pen because is was fun to use. And now I'm going to have to try to learn how to draw again. See how my mind works? Completely illogical.

But, despite the fact that my mom called to harass me about finishing up the financial aid before she was even done with work, she did it herself. Or at least, she finished it herself. I did most of the random filling-in, she took care of the numbers I didn't know. I feel really bad though, because she was going to go to the movies with one of her friends and didn't go.

Okay, I'm going to go give this stuff over to the financial aid department before my virus scan starts running. I wish it was warm enough to wear sandals.

My iPod is now in Japanese, because I am idiot. I figure as long as I can remember where the menus are, and what the kanji is for "Language" I'm good. Bwahahaha.
Wow... I'm almost caught up with Samurai Champloo! I guess there is something to be said for shows with no plot whatsoever. Okay, so really I'm just in love with the characters. Fuu doesn't annoy me nearly as much anymore (actually, she's kind of cute), and Jin's such a freaking adorable dorky samurai. And, well, I never liked Mugen much until... umm... I think it was when he made the beetle drag the rock around. Hehehe. After that his craziness was just sort of cute. I'm really starting to love the style, too. And, the more I think about it, the less I like the quality of animation in Naruto. But that's tangential to the point. Samurai Champloo has been added of my list of Anime to be Shared With Other People. (Currently Cowboy Bebop, Gankutsuou [provided they're female; I've had very little success with males on that front. Must be the textures], and FMA [once I figure out how to solve the problem of the first few episodes being less than great]). Short list, yes... but I have to explain less. And the less people get angry at things for not being able to understand them the better.

I actually got stuff done today, too. Which I absolutely did not set out to do... Of course, most of it was done after midnight. I sat around for quite a while, got caught up in Naruto, read about half of Good Omens for fun (came to wonder to what extent Aziraphale and Crowly are self-inserts of Pterry and Neil), did the dishes. Cannibalized a keyboard that had been thrown away to write "[Enter] 1 DRUNK ALCHEMIST" in keys on someone's desk. Originally it was "YOU [Ctrl] DEATH ?" but I realized that if I came home exhausted from the library, something like that would freak even me out. It was determined, as I changed it, that I do indeed have a soul. Which is always good to hear. Around one I started on my laundry (knowing full well that it wouldn't be done until after two). Ran around the dorm in my bare feet. Saw a guy in the laundry room that, if I didn' tlook directly at him, automatically became Mugen in my mind. This is a good sign that I should probably be in bed right now. But, ah, I've been watching things, and that's my excuse. I missed FMA yet again tonight, though. Both the first airing, and the repeat later. I'm such a horrible fangirl. What would Travis think of me? I haven't even been in the chats for more than fifteen minutes at a time in weeks. Probably because they've turned to so much pure crack. The odd RPing amused me in parts, but this stuff just doesn't hold my attention (mostly because I missed an entire month of it over winter break and don't get any of the inside jokes).

Well, it's almost four. I think I've done enough damage to my sleep schedule for today. Tomorrow it's back to studying with me, at least for a few hours. I'm feeling oddly motivated about it... maybe I should still be a Physics major. Except that it's going to be so hard to do. And I've worried and fretted so much over Physics that I'd probably drive myself mad. Blerr.
evilhippo: hippo (7 [wtf])
( Feb. 14th, 2005 01:01 pm)
Gotta love Hutch in the afternoon, when it's crowded with people and it takes ten minutes in line to get food, followed by another ten to pay because they've only got one register open and you nearly miss the bus. But it's all okay... because you also hear things like this:

"Oh ew! That's dirty!"
"That's his thing for her for Valentine's Day."
"What, you're serious? Ew."
"He's going to bathe her in money!"
"It'll be clean money! Fresh pressed bills!" (Obviously the boyfriend here)
"Oh my god."

... What. the. heck? I had to try SO hard not to burst out laughing at this, because they were right next to me while I was in line. That's just disturbing. UofC people, you scare me. You can keep your scary Valentine's Day whatsits, I think I'll just hide over here in the corner with Rousseau and my physics homework for a bit.
evilhippo: hippo (Default)
( Jan. 27th, 2005 06:50 pm)
It's a sideWALK not a sideSTAND!!

I'm sure the guy that shouted that at us at the bus stop today believed it to be a crushing blow to loiterers everywhere.
evilhippo: hippo (AwesomeRandomChuunin)


( Jan. 6th, 2005 06:59 pm)
I need to stop sitting here laughing at things that no one else can see. But really, how do you keep a straight face when you read something like this?

"Well, I've heard much about you Harry. We have much in common. You see, Voldemort killed my parents the same night he killed yours. I survived the Crucio curse too."
"Wow! I didn't know that. Sorry for asking, but......why are your ears pointy?" Harry asked.
"I am an Elf." Legolas said.

Seriously... bad fanfiction has got to be some of the most amusing stuff ever written.

[Edit a few days later: Oh, and this is my 800th entry. Booyah!]
evilhippo: hippo (Default)
( Jan. 21st, 2004 08:21 pm)
Errr... so obviously I'm updating again, rather than doing my work. I don't see how this is a problem to anyone but me, however. Unless we consider "spamming the friends pages" a real threat to anything... I just feel the need to write down this weird dream I had last night. Or really, more this morning than last night. I tried to explain it at lunch today, but it didn't quite work out. I can see a lot of it clearly, but it doesn't work as well in words, especially when I have to censor bits because I'm at the lunch table and I don't want people thinking I'm any more insane than they already do. And it's hard when someone from New Mexico keeps interrupting you with things like "I met Anna Kournakova once, she really is hot" and "I know a guy that screwed one of Bush's daughters... in Nova Scotia." Hopefully after a day of contemplating it, I can write it down properly... (Behind an LJ cut, so you can ignore most of this entry if you want).

That darn dream... )

Random conversation! For my entertainment more than yours! )

Well, I think that about does it for useless entries for tonight. At least until after I finish some of my math homework, and figure out if I have to write another response paper for Hum tomorrow. It was 35 when I was coming back from dinner today. Thirty-five! And it felt soo warm! That is not a good sign, ya know? It felt like, sixty-ish. Eep. I fear I've become too adjusted to the cold, and may ne'er recover, doomed to suffer in the summers forever!


evilhippo: hippo (Default)


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