:: a.whisper.in.water ::

:: Tuesday, December 02, 2003 ::

[ breaking up is hard to do... ]

...which is more or less why I've Resolved not do to it anymore, not that any such notion ever gained perch among my already-poor decision-making processes for more than 24 hours at a time. Rather, the Resolution entails being Understanding and not playing with Fire; the benefits in terms of a simple sense of ease have been well-worth the rather paltry cost of not being an unintentional flirt.

Oh, wow. Yesterday I saw Ram. The kid’s been going insane under my nose, and I've got nothing to feel but sorry for not knowing. The both of us have been unraveling, it would seem. His story about Nina’s attempted suicide actually trumps any and all stories I might have to offer in terms of Sheer Fucking Awful. Ram’s spending this semester on Dean’s Leave (and his parents don’t know about it! How fucking amazing is that??), which should be good and sanity-restoring, though I won’t get to see him for another forever, possibly until the summer, at which point I should have several Thanksgiving songs to show him, so that we can get recording nice and quickly. I’ve always wanted to be a Girl.

My computer is dying. The sound card isn’t in great electrical contact with relevant data-spooling centers, since sometimes sound just stops, and as I just found out, a sharp jiggle restores it to operation, though a casual one kills it again. Joy. I should actually get it looked at during winter break, or sooner if possible, if I happen not to need it (unlikely!) for a protracted period of time. Among such mundane concerns is the dire state of my academics: lots of late work in Classical Mechanics, and everything teetering on the brink of ignorance. Fortunately, I’ve managed to secure a fair stash of vanilla cloves (Her brand, naturally) and stimulants (Sham on!) which should propel me through the thick of it, though frequent hugs and lots of sleep are the Key, I imagine. I’m the worst worker there ever was (as long as you discount everyone worse than I am) who actually cares as much as they do. Psych services had better start helping soon; I’m (in part) just keeping it in my schedule as focusing event and an occasional excuse as to imperfection, though I tend to leave Rick’s office feeling the weight of everything I manage to ignore for most of each day.

Holy cats, but did the little survey ever go well. You people actually READ this drivel, it seems ;) . My little corner gets more attention than I thought it did. I've seen the survey spread to no less than 3 other folks' public-access recorded e-lives since its posting. I thank Julie for it, though it was modified before it left my hands (the parenthetical remarks in the questions themselves are mine), if it seems a little wry for your usual "Storms: cool or scary?" type meme. It's my genuine wish to make one of them myself with far better questions, like "What weird, Sharper Image-esque useless item would you elect to have?" That's the only question I've got so far (Okay, so I thought of that question and decided to make a survey because of it. Blah), but feel free to contribute.

Wow. Satyajit (and while I am casually impressed by my ability to spell his name correctly unprompted, I desperately hope I'm right) e-mailed me the other day. Though I realize that it's relatively poor form to, in some capacity, reply to his e-mail on a blog rather than by sending him a return piece of electronic correspondence, if the event is noteworthy enough to warrant blogging, why not? I sincerely hope that you're doing well, and that for all the torment that mindlessly came your way, and as far as you've walked (as have I) with nothing facing back but an outstretched middle finger (forever unimpressed, forever unimpressed), you recall me fondly, as a worthwhile human being. I strive to be one now, and apologize to you and all for my imperfections.

It's snowing. It snowed on December First. How fitting...

Music: Grandaddy - Underneath The Weeping Willow, though it was definitely Depeche Mode's Violator all damn day.

:: Aziz 4:27 AM [+] ::
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