As last week slowly turned into this week, I kept getting hit over and over again by the notion that if I don't cough up 20 minutes or however long it takes to write an entry, this blog would be bound for oblivion. So good thing I saved it, for the sake of all those bored random people hitting next blog and actually reading these things. If you are one of them, I laud you for your discipline. Or something.
My classes have started requiring effort again, and even at semester #9 I still think I'm feeling some vestigial remain of shock that the coursework isn't always the child's play that the first couple weeks are. I had to write two papers last week, and I swear I hate doing that kind of stuff more than anyone who has ever lived. I think I'd rather have a leech on my eyeball than go through the process of typing those things again. Sick.
It looks like another semester of being overcomitted outside of class too. I have to find someone to play bass for me on Sunday, because I won't be able to make practice on wednesday. Of course, there's no question that it will be worth it to see Franz Ferdinand live at the Quest. But I guess my whole point is that I have other stuff I should be doing right now, and my work of perpetuating the blog is done for now anyway. Peace.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Monday, September 20, 2004
Has anyone seen my stupid glasses?
Today marks the second monday in four months that I've missed my ritualistic ultimate frisbee pickup game. It's one of those days where a bunch of little annoyances attack your plans at the same time, and even though any one of them alone could be crushed, their superior numbers cause you to throw in the towel for the time being. It's probably for the better that I'm sitting here, waiting for my former roommate Dan to drop by and pick up the gigantic stack of with his name on it that has piled up this summer. He got three important looking pieces of mail from the federal student loan office; I hope those weren't as important as they might seem.
And then there's my sprained shoulder. Have you ever been completely focused on some activity, and just totally misjudge where the ground is? That was me a week ago. I don't recommend it to anyone without Wolverine-like healing ability. The whole ordeal could have been worse, I guess. I completely landed on my clavicle (or something) and heard a pop, but just assumed that since I didn't feel like screaming I didn't break anything and was just imagining stuff. Foolishness. It hurt soooooo bad the next day, I decided to see a doctor and get it x-rayed. It was mostly a lot of this stuff:
Doctor: Does it hurt when I do this?
Me: No.
Doctor: Does it hurt when I do this?
Me: No.
Doctor: Does it hur-
Me: AIEEEEE!!!!!
To top off my list of minor grievances against life is how lost my glasses are. I would pay at least 30 million turkish lira to get those back. I've been wearing contacts since I lost them two weeks ago, and my eyes are starting to complain a lot. I was about to put my contacts this morning when I looked in the mirror and saw how bloodshot my right eye was, and how that followed considering that there was a blatantly obvious stinging sensation coming from right about there too. At that point, it goes against all sense to put something into an eye that looks like that.
Dude(tte)s, if there's one thing blogs do well it's giving you a license to complain. I don't think I would have gone off like this in conversation, but it's so simple and probably freeing, or something, to make people know about all the non-physical things that I wish would become physical things so I could drag them up to the top of Oak street ramp and throw them over the edge.
And then there's my sprained shoulder. Have you ever been completely focused on some activity, and just totally misjudge where the ground is? That was me a week ago. I don't recommend it to anyone without Wolverine-like healing ability. The whole ordeal could have been worse, I guess. I completely landed on my clavicle (or something) and heard a pop, but just assumed that since I didn't feel like screaming I didn't break anything and was just imagining stuff. Foolishness. It hurt soooooo bad the next day, I decided to see a doctor and get it x-rayed. It was mostly a lot of this stuff:
Doctor: Does it hurt when I do this?
Me: No.
Doctor: Does it hurt when I do this?
Me: No.
Doctor: Does it hur-
Me: AIEEEEE!!!!!
To top off my list of minor grievances against life is how lost my glasses are. I would pay at least 30 million turkish lira to get those back. I've been wearing contacts since I lost them two weeks ago, and my eyes are starting to complain a lot. I was about to put my contacts this morning when I looked in the mirror and saw how bloodshot my right eye was, and how that followed considering that there was a blatantly obvious stinging sensation coming from right about there too. At that point, it goes against all sense to put something into an eye that looks like that.
Dude(tte)s, if there's one thing blogs do well it's giving you a license to complain. I don't think I would have gone off like this in conversation, but it's so simple and probably freeing, or something, to make people know about all the non-physical things that I wish would become physical things so I could drag them up to the top of Oak street ramp and throw them over the edge.
Saturday, September 18, 2004
Check 1, Check 1,2
Hello to all my bored fans out in cyberspace, it's the Chris show, starring me (Chris) and Chris (me)! For the first time EVER!!!1 (gotta have the 1).
I'm going to be candid with you, reader. I don't at all deserve to have a podium in which I tell anyone able to type in the right web address about all my recent exploits and unqualified opinions. But, since important people that are doing interesting things usually don't have time for this crap, this is what we get. Thus, as the Frenchies say, C'est la brie. Really, they say that; I was there once.
I feel obligated to tell you some "important" stuff about me, because this is the first of my little bloglings to hatch. On the other hand, most of the people reading this are fellow members of the ADD generation, and will want to go ride bikes in less than a minute anyway. Maybe I should wrap things up already... my brownies are gonna be done in like 5 minutes anyway...
Okay, here's the basic dirt on me. I'm 22, and I'm 3 classes away from getting my Chemistry degree at the University of Minnesota. The implication here is that I am somewhat of a bum; I'm taking 12 credits this semester, 6 of which are the pass/fail kind. I quit my job as a research assistant last week, and I plan to live off of my meager stockpile (of rubles) that I have built until it runs out. The upside of this is I have more time on my hands than I've had since like 9th grade. Thus, it was either make this blog or learn how to juggle, and I still haven't worked up the determination to practice throwing and dropping those stupid machetes for long enough to get good at it. Bah!
Since I haven't told anyone about this yet, the forum topic this week is what the *spank* you are doing reading this. So go ahead now, comment away. Weirdo.
I'm going to be candid with you, reader. I don't at all deserve to have a podium in which I tell anyone able to type in the right web address about all my recent exploits and unqualified opinions. But, since important people that are doing interesting things usually don't have time for this crap, this is what we get. Thus, as the Frenchies say, C'est la brie. Really, they say that; I was there once.
I feel obligated to tell you some "important" stuff about me, because this is the first of my little bloglings to hatch. On the other hand, most of the people reading this are fellow members of the ADD generation, and will want to go ride bikes in less than a minute anyway. Maybe I should wrap things up already... my brownies are gonna be done in like 5 minutes anyway...
Okay, here's the basic dirt on me. I'm 22, and I'm 3 classes away from getting my Chemistry degree at the University of Minnesota. The implication here is that I am somewhat of a bum; I'm taking 12 credits this semester, 6 of which are the pass/fail kind. I quit my job as a research assistant last week, and I plan to live off of my meager stockpile (of rubles) that I have built until it runs out. The upside of this is I have more time on my hands than I've had since like 9th grade. Thus, it was either make this blog or learn how to juggle, and I still haven't worked up the determination to practice throwing and dropping those stupid machetes for long enough to get good at it. Bah!
Since I haven't told anyone about this yet, the forum topic this week is what the *spank* you are doing reading this. So go ahead now, comment away. Weirdo.
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