Fire in the Wind

Post some comments people.  At least humor me into believing I have friends and that they read this stuff.  Geesh.  What are faker friends good for, huh?

P.S. - And don't make comments on spelling or typos...

Although Rush is not over yet, the hardest part it over, and I have a first class cold to show for it.

I LOVE latin dancing.  It's alot of fun and it's even more fun with someone who isn't afraid of you, which would only account for 2 out of the many guys I danced with during the lesson on Tuesday.  Everyone says swing dancing is fun, but I'm tall and swing just does't work for me.  I challenge someone to prove me wrong.  LAtin dancing, however, is fun with someone at any height.  I really like Merengue, Bachata, and Rumba.  Salsa is ok, but good to inter mix with Rumba.  Now I just need to find someone to go out dancing with...

I am sick.  Not in the mental way most of you already know about.  My lungs honestly hurt from coughing.  (everyone  say "awwww, poor dear")  My chest is all sticky from vapor rub, and I have actually been using halls menthol drops which I hate, but they do help.  (Damn it!  I hate it when commercials are right)  So for a rare moment in my life, I can breath through my nose better than my mouth.  How does that work?  Anyway,  I called in sick today, will try to stay in as much as possible unlike Saturday when I was drawn out of my fortress of solitude by the promise of discount art supplies.  That story is as follows.

Ok, so the actual trip there and the buying is probably not all that interesting.  But me in an art supply store is like me in a candy store, only a feel less guilty in indulging.  So I did indulge and dropped a good amount of money on fun stuff like paint, stuff to paint on, charcoal pencils, brushes, and quad paper pads.  I'm such a geek, but the quad pads were the most exciting find.  It isn't JUST quad paper, I got three quad paper pads in different sizes, and to top it all off, the covers of the pads are ORANGE.  I think you all understand now...  Anyway, I broke out the paint Sat. night and painted something pretty random and without plan.  It was fun to do, but really didn't mean much but a release of artistic tension.  The next day, someone liked it so much I tell them they can have it.  It really has no more worth to me than the paint and cardboard I used to create it.  When they took it they gave me $10.  I wasn't about to refuse.  They thought it was worth ten dollars, then they are welcome to pay it. This is only the second piece of art I have ever sold.  One every 5 years at an average $15 per sale comes to a $3 a year income.  Hmmm, maybe I should stick with this engineering thing for a little while longer yet.

I'd like to thank everyone who helped me move my crap from the ASP house to my room in the Kappa house:  Lynn, Fenko, John, and all my sisters.  I don't think I would have survived the weekend without the help of you all.  I'd also like to thank Squid for letting me use her family's super industrial vacuum to clean up all the saw-dust created during the building of my loft.  Of course, it goes without saying that I thank my mom for coming up here and especially for helping with the loft and dismantling of the desk.  And finally, I'd like to thank the academy...wait...wrong speech, I'll save that one for later. :)

Well, my stuff is in the Kappa house, but I have to sleep in Lewis 211.  I think I can speak for every Kappa when I say "Grrrrrr!!  Our house is suppose to be done, you #$^&*(#)@!!!"  I'm speaking of course to the construction company and not to any of the wonderful administration members who have helped us get this house. ;) 

Random comments from here on out:

Meanwhile, I packed so quickly that I forgot an alarm clock.  So, as soon as I woke this morning I went to work, arriving at 8:10am.

My loft could withstand earthquake, flood, and nuclear blast.  It's very sturdy for all sorts of activity ;) and high enough to put my fridge and my dresser on wheels under it. Yay!

So the school administration told you that any desk attached to the wall is impossible to remove without creating huge holes or releasing the desk on the other side?  WELL THEY LIE!!  But what else is new?  All stand in wonder at the empty space on the wall where there was once a desk, and alas, there are no huge holes in the wall, and the desk on the other side is as secure all before.  Mwahahaha!

I've been to McDonolds twice today.  I feel dirty...but not hungry!

The End

Today's songs are definately:  Red Hot Chili Pepper's "City of Angel" and U2's "With or Without You"

My sentiments exactly.  Do read this if you want to know who I will be voting for in the 2004 presidential election.

And so a rustling noise came from my lamp...

I came back from Puffers where the goodbye party for Kelly and much drinking had taken place.  Games such as, "I have never.." and "Who is most likely to.." were played.  I was voted most likely to appear on Fear Factor (possible, I didn't think I was afraid of bugs until that night) and mostly likely to change my career to something which has nothing to do with my current field of study (very possible). 

Upon returning to campus, I find the need to flee from the ASP house.  I go the SSV North to visit Izzy and find he is just getting off.  He informs me of his day and week, which most of you have read at Izzy's Blog or heard personally.  I followed him to triangle where I hung around a little until bored then left. (nothing personal guys.  I get easily distracted)  Then the nightmare begins...

And so a rustling noise came from my lamp and I, of course, investigate.  I cautiously tap the lamp...AND OUT FLYS THE GIANT INSECT!!!  It awkwardly travels through the air toward my door, which is wide open, but instead of flying out, it somehow lands on the back of the door.  At this point, I cannot see the creature and do not know what sort of flying beast it is.  So, from quite a long ways away, I look around to view the back of the door...and there sits the largest cockroach I have ever seen.  I am instantly taken aback, and once the shock subsides, I start thinking how the handle the situation.  How do I bring myself to kill something as big as my thumb?  The damn thing has a personality.  Should I be naming it before sending it to meet its maker?  By the time I've decided I must kill Fred (which is what I decided to name it) as soon as possible, Fred starts to move.  Fred launches into the air and I jump into my closet as he lands on the opposite wall and crawls with amazing speed up to the ceiling.  Fred makes his last flight from the ceiling to behind the lowered blind.  I see his antennae moving from behind the blind.  I make a move for my computer and IM the only person in the house who appears to be online.  Unfortunately, this happens to be someone terrified of insects of most any sort and especially cockroaches.  He brings me emotional support from well out of my room as I execute Fred and take his remains to the dumpster.   Now, I am certain that sleep is impossible.  My cockroach-phobic "helper" and I debate the validity of claims that people eat spiders in their sleep.  He seems quite certain this is true, but many sources I found said it was not true and any place siting it as fact only had it listed as an unsupported statistic.  Confident that no large insects or arachnids would invade my body at night, I decide to attempt sleep...with the light on, of course.

"The decision to flee came suddenly, or maybe not?  Maybe I planned it all along, subconsciously waiting for the right moment."    -Hunter S. Thompson Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

I ran away TO home this weekend.  As much as I care about my close friends and the people in my life, I must be away from them sometimes.  This summer has had it's moments of fun and fine memory, but overall, it has not been productive and will surely leave me feeling more stressed out than I was at the beginning of it. 

Thursday evening, in a moment of weakeness and after a day I was not emotionally prepared for, I called my mom, and before I knew it I was saying I was coming home with no suggestion from my mom.  I bought tickets, packeted my bag, and waited for the next day.  Friday was the physical manifestation of the day before; the train ride home found me rocking back and forth in pain.  The three bentyl that I took during the 5 hours previous to the train ride had left me more stoned than I ever cared to be while in a train station, but eventually, I was able to convince the ticket sales to give me my tickets, and was able to stumble upon the correct train.   

Cut to the next morning...I awake, after 10 hours of sleep, in my nicely cool bedroom.  Simply not having to sweat through the entire night made all the difference in my willingness to get out of bed, throw on my running shoes, and take a mile run.  During the run is about the time I decide to quit school and move someplace far, far away where I can raise lhamas and perfect my ability to ignore the rest of humanity.  After regaining oxygen to my brain, I realize that might not be the best course of action, but that I continue to ignore as much humanity as is nessassary to maintain sanity.  During the day, my mother and I went out for sushi, bought brightly colored wash-clothes, investigated the newly restored train station (which is currently the home of the firm who restored it), and went to "Retroactive" the best second-hand clothing store EVER, where I bought a new dress, which I look great in and have no place to wear.  In the evening, we watched Hellboy, which I liked if for no other reason than Ron Perlman rocks.  On Sunday morinings, the talking heads are on television, and my father is yelling at them like they can hear him.  This is what I wake up to, but the familiarity of it is comforting.  After the lattes are distributed, we talk politics, and the consensus is there is no one to vote for save the craziest Libertarian to ever be nominated, and even my extremist self has doubts about him.  My mother tires of the political frustration in the atmosphere and pushes us out the door to Markle Pool.  Markle Pool is not so much a pool as a swiming hole, as I like to think of it.  It is an old quarry that has been made into a nice pond for swiming.  We swim, we return, I find I have gotten sun for the first time of the summer, and my dad and I nap as my mother mows the lawn while dodging frogs.  She brought a frog in for me to see, but I was alseep and missed it. 

Overall, the weekend was great and very relaxing;I really didn't want it to end.  I returned to Chicago to find everything I ran away from waiting for me patiently, but I went for a 3 hour walk rather than face it.  I return to the house with an even better burn and sore legs to boot. 

The moral of the story is: don't runaway unless you plan to stay away and, as always, wear sunscreen.

I stumbled upon this hosting page and out of the many I have been looking into,  I really liked this one much better.  So, I decided to start my page here and maybe upgrade to something better later.

"Fire in the wind" is a line from a poem I wrote and the title of a painting I did in high school.  You can read the poem (entitled "Vestal Heart") in the Poetry section of my site.

Currently, I am at work, wasting a little (or alot) of time while playing with this new toy I have discovered.  Changing colors and layout and stuff.  I can't wait till I can create a proper title graphic for the site.