I hope you all enjoyed my fanciful journey last time. I debated writing in all "text message speak," but as I was typing "norly," "plx," and "kthxbye" I realized that I would have to stab someone in the throat when I finished, and that was just too much for a Tuesday.
Today I'm pondering music and emotion. Studies have been done, lectures have been taught, and conferences have been given order to discuss the concept of music as a vehicle for and cause of emotion. I could have told you ANY of that just by looking at the faces of concert-goers and happy-pedestrian-mp3-player-wearers. There is nothing quite like a song to inspire, frighten, soothe, enrage, cheer, or depress you.
Observing people only goes so far, though, if you're not doing a quantitative study, so all I have is personal experience.
Here is a list of just a few of the songs that particularly affect me: "Hold Your Colour" by Pendulum, "Omnibus" by Laut Sprecher, "When You Were Young" by the Killers, "My Own Way" by the Rembrandts (shut up, shut up!), "Everywhere" by Michelle Branch, and "Hoppípolla" by Sigur Rós. Now, don't be confused. I don't necessarily OMGLOVE all of these songs, and I don't listen to them all the time, but if I need inspiration for my next brilliant short story (::snort::), I put a certain few songs on repeat and go to town. Hold Your Colour, for example, inspires me to write for a character experiencing the fantastic, while Omnibus is for straight up action scenes. Hoppípolla is for more serious works, or for writing in another time period (see last post), while When You Were Young elicits a bitter, spiteful emotional state for some reason. I haven't found a real use for it yet...
Anyway, what about you guys? What songs really make you feel something?
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Down the Rabbit Hole
.-.-.Wonderland.-.-.
Kindest greetings on this most fantastic of occasions, darling readers. So broad have been my wanderings of late that I nearly lost track of updating my public. Thrice and ten days ago, I set forth on my winter constitutional, attempting to debunk a few of the more far-fetched cryptozoological theories. My travels found me seven days in a tundra far drier than any desert, and as inhospitable as that gaseous orb about which we rotate. With my strikingly handsome sherpa and a pack full of equipment, I set out in search of the elusive yeh-teh creature which plagues the stories of humankind the world o'er. The wind at our backs, we made good time the first day.
Whilst scouting habitable locations for the evening's repose, I could not shake the feeling that I was being watched. Even after settling in the tent with my companion for sleep, the discomforting unease in my stomache's pit did not wane. Sleep came fitfully that night, but it did come. I awakened to find my knowledgeable companion missing from his bedroll. Panic set in, for the rule of exploration is to never traverse unknown terrain alone. Chancing a look outside the tent flaps, I saw nothing but the featureless landscape before me. The temperature had dropped somewhat, so I quickly retreated within the relative safe warmth of the tent and blankets. Moments passed agonizingly, and eventually I began to hear noises. I strained desperately and willed my weak ears to action, but it all sounded distant. Briefly, as I gathered all the gear I could carry and wear, I wondered if my sherpa had been yelling for help. I circled the campsite and looked behind every crag and cranny within eyesight of our fire's remains, but saw not a single footprint nor sign of activity aside my own.
Some yards east of camp lay the bloodied corpse of a ram, still hot. The noise which reached my ears previously must have been the unfortunate sounds of its violent demise. Panic set in, and I had to keep moving or risk an encounter with whatever beast felled the ram. I trudged onward, weary from my fitful slumber, and wary without my companion's knowledge. The compass device urged me eastward, toward the next-nearest human establishment. The sherpa had carried our means of defense, and he had absconded with it in his, I assumed for sanity, cruel gesture of anti-tourist behavior. Yes, I told my addled brain, he left me with all the provisions aside from the weapons hoping I'd get lost and perish before I reached another village. I allowed not a single alternative notion to creep in, as my panic and fear had already taken over most every other aspect of my consciousness. Rationalization was my sanity in those next few agonizing hours.
Lost in thought, I almost didn't see the body in time to avoid falling directly on top of it. The body of a small child, buried mostly by dirt and brambles, lay frozen in my path. Surrounding it at each of the four compass points was a large stone. As you can surmise, my fear and panic gave way to hopeless curiosity, and I backed from the body to examine the burial site at a distance. Certainly, my instincts told me to flee quickly, lest someone discover my trespass, but I suppressed them handily. Suddenly and without provocation or warning, a thickly caloused, tan hand clamped over my mouth. My sherpa had returned, it seemed, and with a harsh whisper told me to follow him away from the ritual site.
What followed our retreat remains inconsistent in my memory, but I'll recount to the best of my ability. My prodigal sherpa explained to me that he had gone tracking, as he had heard noises similar to the ones I had heard. Time got away from him as he was searching for the source of the sound. He found something he wanted to show me. Having heard such claims before on excursions, I was perfectly prepared to witness something that neatly (and disappointingly) explained the whole mess. Instead the sherpa led me to a large outcropping a mile away. Peering over the ledge, my breath caught in my throat. The air shimmered around us, if such can be believed, and my eyes found themselves soon staring into a wide swath of treed landscape. I felt a tingle in my nose, and realized it was warm air hitting the frigid extremity. I pressed my face further in, and discovered that yes, warm air was circulating around.
At that point, my senses became dull as an old woman's, and in recounting this to you, dear readers, I cannot do justice to the lush oasis which met me on the other side of the outcropping. Exchanging a look, the sherpa and I silently made our way down into the lush basin. Strange sounds and smells greeted us, and I felt as though time itself had shifted around me. I was in another world completely, and my scientific curiosity drove me to continue on....
The results of my findings are too numerous to recount in such a medium as this, and I will shortly publish a full volume of my works. Should you require further information, you may contact me with questions and I will be most pleased to respond.
Note: To celebrate Lewis Carroll's birthday, I've followed Mr. Doctorow's instructions, and changed the blog style for today. I hope you've enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole.
Kindest greetings on this most fantastic of occasions, darling readers. So broad have been my wanderings of late that I nearly lost track of updating my public. Thrice and ten days ago, I set forth on my winter constitutional, attempting to debunk a few of the more far-fetched cryptozoological theories. My travels found me seven days in a tundra far drier than any desert, and as inhospitable as that gaseous orb about which we rotate. With my strikingly handsome sherpa and a pack full of equipment, I set out in search of the elusive yeh-teh creature which plagues the stories of humankind the world o'er. The wind at our backs, we made good time the first day.
Whilst scouting habitable locations for the evening's repose, I could not shake the feeling that I was being watched. Even after settling in the tent with my companion for sleep, the discomforting unease in my stomache's pit did not wane. Sleep came fitfully that night, but it did come. I awakened to find my knowledgeable companion missing from his bedroll. Panic set in, for the rule of exploration is to never traverse unknown terrain alone. Chancing a look outside the tent flaps, I saw nothing but the featureless landscape before me. The temperature had dropped somewhat, so I quickly retreated within the relative safe warmth of the tent and blankets. Moments passed agonizingly, and eventually I began to hear noises. I strained desperately and willed my weak ears to action, but it all sounded distant. Briefly, as I gathered all the gear I could carry and wear, I wondered if my sherpa had been yelling for help. I circled the campsite and looked behind every crag and cranny within eyesight of our fire's remains, but saw not a single footprint nor sign of activity aside my own.
Some yards east of camp lay the bloodied corpse of a ram, still hot. The noise which reached my ears previously must have been the unfortunate sounds of its violent demise. Panic set in, and I had to keep moving or risk an encounter with whatever beast felled the ram. I trudged onward, weary from my fitful slumber, and wary without my companion's knowledge. The compass device urged me eastward, toward the next-nearest human establishment. The sherpa had carried our means of defense, and he had absconded with it in his, I assumed for sanity, cruel gesture of anti-tourist behavior. Yes, I told my addled brain, he left me with all the provisions aside from the weapons hoping I'd get lost and perish before I reached another village. I allowed not a single alternative notion to creep in, as my panic and fear had already taken over most every other aspect of my consciousness. Rationalization was my sanity in those next few agonizing hours.
Lost in thought, I almost didn't see the body in time to avoid falling directly on top of it. The body of a small child, buried mostly by dirt and brambles, lay frozen in my path. Surrounding it at each of the four compass points was a large stone. As you can surmise, my fear and panic gave way to hopeless curiosity, and I backed from the body to examine the burial site at a distance. Certainly, my instincts told me to flee quickly, lest someone discover my trespass, but I suppressed them handily. Suddenly and without provocation or warning, a thickly caloused, tan hand clamped over my mouth. My sherpa had returned, it seemed, and with a harsh whisper told me to follow him away from the ritual site.
What followed our retreat remains inconsistent in my memory, but I'll recount to the best of my ability. My prodigal sherpa explained to me that he had gone tracking, as he had heard noises similar to the ones I had heard. Time got away from him as he was searching for the source of the sound. He found something he wanted to show me. Having heard such claims before on excursions, I was perfectly prepared to witness something that neatly (and disappointingly) explained the whole mess. Instead the sherpa led me to a large outcropping a mile away. Peering over the ledge, my breath caught in my throat. The air shimmered around us, if such can be believed, and my eyes found themselves soon staring into a wide swath of treed landscape. I felt a tingle in my nose, and realized it was warm air hitting the frigid extremity. I pressed my face further in, and discovered that yes, warm air was circulating around.
At that point, my senses became dull as an old woman's, and in recounting this to you, dear readers, I cannot do justice to the lush oasis which met me on the other side of the outcropping. Exchanging a look, the sherpa and I silently made our way down into the lush basin. Strange sounds and smells greeted us, and I felt as though time itself had shifted around me. I was in another world completely, and my scientific curiosity drove me to continue on....
The results of my findings are too numerous to recount in such a medium as this, and I will shortly publish a full volume of my works. Should you require further information, you may contact me with questions and I will be most pleased to respond.
Note: To celebrate Lewis Carroll's birthday, I've followed Mr. Doctorow's instructions, and changed the blog style for today. I hope you've enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Big Hairy Butt
Though I'm in squeefriday mode, I'm also in pondery mode. Here's today's pondery: why do poo and fart jokes remain funny so much longer after people tell us they shouldn't be funny anymore? People make entire comedy careers of humor based mostly on bodily functions, so there must be SOME segment of the population to whom the "rules" do not apply.I always used to tell myself that the day I stopped laughing at the "big hairy butt" joke from the 4th grade is the day I should go on happy pills, but I find these days that I have to be in the right mood to laugh at these types of jokes. They used to make me laugh until I peed a little.
I surely hope that I haven't become so desensitized to the disgusting nature of the human body that I have forgotten how to laugh at it. Once upon a time, a boy told me he loved me by informing me that he was "comfortable enough to poop while I was in the room," thus taking our relationship to a new level. Is that what did it? Is the book Everybody Poops teaching our children that farts aren't funny? Maybe it was that time I went to the ladies' room and smelled the foulest smell imaginable that turned out to be coming from a VERY prim and proper lady from down the hall.
More likely, I'm just becoming a mature adult who is trying to embrace the ideals of proper, upright society...
Oh screw it. I'm gonna go tell the "big hairy butt" joke to a coworker and laugh so hard I pass out.
Happy Friday!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
False Identities
Though I've tried to keep them separate, my "me" blog and my "WoW" blog are on the same email account, and by now at least one person (Hi Silver!) has figured out my terrible secret! Over the years I've had a great deal of online journals (that's what this amounts to, really) and have changed names many times. I've stuck with Threnody/Threnodee the longest, but before that I had at least 3 that I can remember, and I put those names on EVERYthing I did that was remotely related to the Internet, and very few people who knew those names ever knew my real one. That brings me to the subject of my post: Internet Identity.From a purely academic perspective, this phenomenon I call "multiple screen name disorder," dates back to the time of the very first message boards, chat rooms, and instant messengers. For the first time ever, people had almost total anonymity in conversations. With a physical piece of mail, your address and name were attached (they could be falsified, but it was less likely) so there wasn't as much a sense of anonymity as with email and newsgroups and such. Up until the mid 90s, the 'net as we know it did not exist, and there was a relatively small group of people using it. When chatrooms, screennames, and Instant Messaging hit the blogotubes, there came a shift.
Instead of a few people using aliases, you had more or less everyone using aliases. The real names were all taken by early adopters, and even if they weren't, the practice has always been discouraged. I think my family got AOL back in 1996, and my very first screen name was Psy3. I wanted to keep it short, and the names I wanted were already taken (I went through pretty much all the female X-men and had to go for shortened Psylocke...sigh). With brand new screen name in hand, I plopped myself in comic book, videogame, and anime chat rooms on AOL and developed myself a reputation.
I found myself lying about my age to gain credibility for my opinions on various comic-related topics. Would Rogue and Gambit ever really be together? Would Joe Madureira ever properly proportion a female character? Would Rob Liefeld ever correctly proportion anything?
Eventually, I dropped the Psy3 screen name when we switched off of the AOL service, and found myself with yet another blank slate identity to mold, with an entire web to explore instead of just chatrooms. Did I lie about my age this time to gain credibility? Nope! Instead, I wrote in adorablespeak (dropping "kawaii" and "ne" in as many sentences as possible) and really played up the adorable anime geek that I sort of was, but not really. I learned to make websites, and went full tilt into anime mode, even moreso than I am now.
The next time my identity changed, it was because I had my very first e-stalker, and I needed to lose him.That worked out pretty well for a long time, but I think he's trying to find me again, and that's scary. But anyway, now I'm juggling two internet personas at once, and I know I'm not the only one who does it. Anyone with multiple blogs about more than one subject can be said to have multiple screen name disorder. I'm not only TheGirlNerd, but I'm also known by my WoW character names. It spills over into real life, too. I visited my WoW guild in Canada last September, and most of them had a hard time calling me by my real name. They call me Thren, because to them that is my identity.
My academic ponderance, based in personal experience, is how deeply does having multiple screen name disorder affect the person behind the name? Do we have to pretend to be our online personality so much that it becomes our real personality? Look at people like the creators of Penny Arcade. Have they been Gabe and Tycho for so long that they really have BECOME Gabe and Tycho? Are their real identities lost to the bits of time? I want to know what people think about this. It's been over ten years since this whole blogotubes thing got started, so I'm sure there are papers written about this very subject, but I'm an incredibly curious little meatbag. Let's have a discussion.
Edit: DSCarmon made an excellent point. I'm mostly talking about people who participate in online communities. These are just floaty questions going through my teeny brain. It would require a dedicated study to actually account for all the variables factoring into the answers to my questions.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Out with the old...
Perhaps we've jumped the gun just a little, but a couple of my friends and I are moving into an
apartment together in June, and wanted to get all that "searching for a place to live" part out of the way early. We started out looking at houses for rent in the area, thinking a yard would be nice for doggies to play in, but popped into an apartment complex that was really cute, and just HAPPENED to be open when the other place we wanted to look was not. We asked the incredibly nice saleslady for floorplans and pricing, and found that what we thought was going to be WAY out of our price range is actually well within it! The complex had a 2-bedroom model open for viewing, so we went and had a look.
It
Is
GORGEOUS.
The living room is huge by comparison to my current abode, with ample room for living and dining spaces to be separate. The kitchen has floors made to look like wood, with dark countertops and black appliances. There's a pantry (YEEEE!) and washer/dryer hookups, too! The bedrooms are large enough for us each to put computer desks/chairs/etc. in, and the closets are ample. The master bedroom is on the opposite side of the apartment from the other two, which would be nice for a hermit like me. Plus, I could keep Maizie in there behind her little grate thing when company came over, and she'd be able to see out without being underfoot! You cannot believe how excited I am. I'd be just a few blocks from work, and might even walk there when the weather is nice, and I'd be in quick driving distance from everything! Buuuut it's 5 months away. I wanna move nooooow! ::whine::
Next step: paper rock scissors tournament to see who gets the biggest bedroom (Oh my god a whole extra square foot! I could put a lamp there!), and who gets to share a bathroom. I'll probably end up with the big room, because of my phat PRS skills. Hoowah. Happy Monday!
P.S. I stole the first picture from Fortworthology.com, which is run by my friend Kevin. The second picture is from the apartment's website.
apartment together in June, and wanted to get all that "searching for a place to live" part out of the way early. We started out looking at houses for rent in the area, thinking a yard would be nice for doggies to play in, but popped into an apartment complex that was really cute, and just HAPPENED to be open when the other place we wanted to look was not. We asked the incredibly nice saleslady for floorplans and pricing, and found that what we thought was going to be WAY out of our price range is actually well within it! The complex had a 2-bedroom model open for viewing, so we went and had a look.It
Is
GORGEOUS.
The living room is huge by comparison to my current abode, with ample room for living and dining spaces to be separate. The kitchen has floors made to look like wood, with dark countertops and black appliances. There's a pantry (YEEEE!) and washer/dryer hookups, too! The bedrooms are large enough for us each to put computer desks/chairs/etc. in, and the closets are ample. The master bedroom is on the opposite side of the apartment from the other two, which would be nice for a hermit like me. Plus, I could keep Maizie in there behind her little grate thing when company came over, and she'd be able to see out without being underfoot! You cannot believe how excited I am. I'd be just a few blocks from work, and might even walk there when the weather is nice, and I'd be in quick driving distance from everything! Buuuut it's 5 months away. I wanna move nooooow! ::whine::Next step: paper rock scissors tournament to see who gets the biggest bedroom (Oh my god a whole extra square foot! I could put a lamp there!), and who gets to share a bathroom. I'll probably end up with the big room, because of my phat PRS skills. Hoowah. Happy Monday!
P.S. I stole the first picture from Fortworthology.com, which is run by my friend Kevin. The second picture is from the apartment's website.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Podcasts, podcasts, podcasts!
What does it mean when you're no longer interested in downloading much new music? My brain has a limited capacity for memory (i.e. none) I guess, and I simply can't remember from hour to hour what music I wanted to download when I get home from work. It's a rare day that finds me on Amazon.com's mp3 download page. There is simply too much to do besides that. As a result, I generally listen to the same 3 albums on shuffle/repeat when I'm at home. That is, until I discovered podcasts...
That's why RSS feeds are the best invention of the Internet age. I can collect feeds from all over the Internet, and instead of opening 20 different websites to read news, webcomics, and listen to podcasts.
Podcasts, podcasts, podcasts! They are so wonderful. Just recently, I subscribed to an Irish Music podcast, and an NPR book podcast that takes a bunch of other NPR book-related podcasts and mashes it up into a digest version. I also subscribed to an Irish/Celtic music podcast. That's a whole hour of music I've probably never heard before. I'm looking for more music podcasts, but this celtic one has my feet moving all by itself.
The absolute best thing about podcasts, though, is the fact that I can plop a few in my feed reader and just listen at work at my leisure. Google provides an awesome aggregate reader at www.google.com/reader. Feeds can be found for almost any blog, and podcasts are an easy search away. Here's a list of the ones I subscribe to. It gives a fairly straighforward idea of what my interests are at the moment.
Also, if anyone has podcast suggestions, please let me know!
That's why RSS feeds are the best invention of the Internet age. I can collect feeds from all over the Internet, and instead of opening 20 different websites to read news, webcomics, and listen to podcasts.
Podcasts, podcasts, podcasts! They are so wonderful. Just recently, I subscribed to an Irish Music podcast, and an NPR book podcast that takes a bunch of other NPR book-related podcasts and mashes it up into a digest version. I also subscribed to an Irish/Celtic music podcast. That's a whole hour of music I've probably never heard before. I'm looking for more music podcasts, but this celtic one has my feet moving all by itself.
The absolute best thing about podcasts, though, is the fact that I can plop a few in my feed reader and just listen at work at my leisure. Google provides an awesome aggregate reader at www.google.com/reader. Feeds can be found for almost any blog, and podcasts are an easy search away. Here's a list of the ones I subscribe to. It gives a fairly straighforward idea of what my interests are at the moment.
- T3 Podcast - a techy gadget podcast
- Irish and Celtic Music - showcases new celtic music
- NPR: Books Podcast - compilation of various book-related sound bites from all over NPR
- The Sound of Young America - brief-ish interviews with people my age group gives a crap about
- Philosophy Bites - snippets of information about various new philosophical concepts, and visits to old ideas as well
- Anime World Order - an anime podcast that's been around longer than mine
- The Instance - an excellent, high-production value World of Warcraft Podcast
- The Phileas Club - A monthy news recap/commentary from contributors all over the world
- Friday Night Party Line - as their tagline says, any topic is fair game, so this one's hit or miss for me.
Also, if anyone has podcast suggestions, please let me know!
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Biting off more than you can chew
This post is partly about the economy, and partly about the pudu.
The pudu is a tiny deer. It is, in fact, the world's tiniest deer. I took the liberty of doing a Google image search for it. It is the cutest thing you will ever see besides my adorable dog. That said, who wants to help me start a pudu farm in Arizona?
Even with the economy the way it is, I think the pudu as a pet would be a most excellent use of your money. It lives 8-10 years in the wild, so just think what it can live to when domesticated! This is an important project, and I am looking for investors.
Speaking of the economy, I read an interesting article yesterday about how the economy may fundamentally change the way my generation thinks about money. "They" say people won't rely as much on credit cards and debt except for large purchases. The general consensus is that credit got us into this crisis, and cannot possibly help to get us out. While I agree somewhat, I do not think the acquisition of credit is an entirely bad thing on a small scale. Now, that's not to say I'm going to go out and get any new credit cards or what have you, but I AM going to keep using my credit card for its intended purpose. I use it for large electronic purchases and clothing ONLY.
The thing about credit is that you have to set limits. Not just spending limits, but I've always avoided trouble with large interest rates by paying attention to what I'm buying, and not entering into any debt (credit card or otherwise) that I don't project paying off in a comfortable length of time. Acquiring GOOD debt is a necessary thing. I think credit scores are not that bad a way to approve someone for, say, a mortgage. The person you're getting it from doesn't know you at all, and without someone trustworthy vouching for you, they're not likely to just hand over a large sum of money. So yeah. Morals of the story: don't cut up all your credit cards, just cut up some, and keep your spending to reasonable levels.
Now, you may be wondering, "Why the pudu?" The simple answer is that I am easily distracted by adorable things, and that was just the latest adorable thing to catch my eye. BWaAAAAA ready for today to end. Enjoy your day, lovelies.
The pudu is a tiny deer. It is, in fact, the world's tiniest deer. I took the liberty of doing a Google image search for it. It is the cutest thing you will ever see besides my adorable dog. That said, who wants to help me start a pudu farm in Arizona?
Even with the economy the way it is, I think the pudu as a pet would be a most excellent use of your money. It lives 8-10 years in the wild, so just think what it can live to when domesticated! This is an important project, and I am looking for investors.
Speaking of the economy, I read an interesting article yesterday about how the economy may fundamentally change the way my generation thinks about money. "They" say people won't rely as much on credit cards and debt except for large purchases. The general consensus is that credit got us into this crisis, and cannot possibly help to get us out. While I agree somewhat, I do not think the acquisition of credit is an entirely bad thing on a small scale. Now, that's not to say I'm going to go out and get any new credit cards or what have you, but I AM going to keep using my credit card for its intended purpose. I use it for large electronic purchases and clothing ONLY.
The thing about credit is that you have to set limits. Not just spending limits, but I've always avoided trouble with large interest rates by paying attention to what I'm buying, and not entering into any debt (credit card or otherwise) that I don't project paying off in a comfortable length of time. Acquiring GOOD debt is a necessary thing. I think credit scores are not that bad a way to approve someone for, say, a mortgage. The person you're getting it from doesn't know you at all, and without someone trustworthy vouching for you, they're not likely to just hand over a large sum of money. So yeah. Morals of the story: don't cut up all your credit cards, just cut up some, and keep your spending to reasonable levels.
Now, you may be wondering, "Why the pudu?" The simple answer is that I am easily distracted by adorable things, and that was just the latest adorable thing to catch my eye. BWaAAAAA ready for today to end. Enjoy your day, lovelies.
Friday, January 9, 2009
A rambling post about conversing
Okay, Internet. Let's just keep this between us. A lot of people expect biting sarcasm and eyerolling from me, because that's the niche I fill these days. I say something that sets up everyone else's punchlines.
To paraphrase one such situation: "I think Twilight is the bestest movie," says Friend. I reply, "Yeah. Let's take a hundred years of vampire myths and stories and throw them all out the window. We'll make Vampires shine like painted whores, and Native Americans wolves." Cue other Friend, who is herself Native American. "Yeah, I had no idea I could turn into a wolf. You guys are screwed if I ever get mad." I'm not sure that's exactly how it went, but it was something along those lines, and I seem to recall Chappaboogie saying something about eating us, and not in the sexy way.
That said, I can't remember the last time I said anything interesting without being prompted, and then immediately interrupted. I laugh at every joke, but I have no humor to call my own. I have pleasant, boring stories, and people generally stop listening to me after about 15 seconds. My voice is not unpleasant; my podcast listeners seem to like it. I suppose it could just be my inability to carry on conversations about popular subjects. My interests are highly limited these days: anime, WoW, beer, blogging, podcasting, a few books, and my dog. My friends' interests tend more toward the mainstream, with the notable exception of Horror movies, which are really not my thing.
I guess when someone says "you won't believe what I saw when I was out riding my bike by the river," they don't really want to get the response "you won't believe what I saw while I was flying from Dragonblight to Icecrown on my Red Drake." What does baffle me is that I can't get anyone to discuss books either. I read and some of my friends read, but none of us get together and discuss reading. I guess a loud bar isn't really a place to get into a discussion about Richard Dawkins' fallacious arguments against intelligent design.
Oh well. I guess there's something to be said for predictability. I must enjoy not being part of conversations when sober, because I keep letting it happen. Only when I imbibe alcohol do I ever say, "Hey! Don't start another conversation in the middle of a conversation with me!" In the end, it boils down to one of two things: 1) I am not interesting or 2) My friends have the attention spans of goldfish. In some cases, 1 is probably true, and in others, 2 is most CERTAINLY true. I love my girlfriends dearly, but I frequently feel like a 5th, 6th, or 7th wheel.
Thank goodness I don't base my self worth on people paying attention to me, right? (I run 3 blogs and a podcast...) Oh well, I have to go to a townhall meeting for work now. I'm sure I'll post something later that is less whiny.
To paraphrase one such situation: "I think Twilight is the bestest movie," says Friend. I reply, "Yeah. Let's take a hundred years of vampire myths and stories and throw them all out the window. We'll make Vampires shine like painted whores, and Native Americans wolves." Cue other Friend, who is herself Native American. "Yeah, I had no idea I could turn into a wolf. You guys are screwed if I ever get mad." I'm not sure that's exactly how it went, but it was something along those lines, and I seem to recall Chappaboogie saying something about eating us, and not in the sexy way.
That said, I can't remember the last time I said anything interesting without being prompted, and then immediately interrupted. I laugh at every joke, but I have no humor to call my own. I have pleasant, boring stories, and people generally stop listening to me after about 15 seconds. My voice is not unpleasant; my podcast listeners seem to like it. I suppose it could just be my inability to carry on conversations about popular subjects. My interests are highly limited these days: anime, WoW, beer, blogging, podcasting, a few books, and my dog. My friends' interests tend more toward the mainstream, with the notable exception of Horror movies, which are really not my thing.
I guess when someone says "you won't believe what I saw when I was out riding my bike by the river," they don't really want to get the response "you won't believe what I saw while I was flying from Dragonblight to Icecrown on my Red Drake." What does baffle me is that I can't get anyone to discuss books either. I read and some of my friends read, but none of us get together and discuss reading. I guess a loud bar isn't really a place to get into a discussion about Richard Dawkins' fallacious arguments against intelligent design.
Oh well. I guess there's something to be said for predictability. I must enjoy not being part of conversations when sober, because I keep letting it happen. Only when I imbibe alcohol do I ever say, "Hey! Don't start another conversation in the middle of a conversation with me!" In the end, it boils down to one of two things: 1) I am not interesting or 2) My friends have the attention spans of goldfish. In some cases, 1 is probably true, and in others, 2 is most CERTAINLY true. I love my girlfriends dearly, but I frequently feel like a 5th, 6th, or 7th wheel.
Thank goodness I don't base my self worth on people paying attention to me, right? (I run 3 blogs and a podcast...) Oh well, I have to go to a townhall meeting for work now. I'm sure I'll post something later that is less whiny.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
We're going down
You may have noticed a ridiculous quantity of blogs spewing forth from my fingers. I keep up with the podcast, this blog, and a WoW blog that I'm not telling you about for fear of an intervention. My friends, with a few exceptions, all think WoW is terrible and stupid, and they are right. (I'm a self-hating WoW-player.)
But the reason I am blogging from work with reckless abandon is that I have ceased caring about my well being. It is as though someone punched my brain in the "achieve great things" section and has left me with naught but the ability to express worthless opinions on the Internet.
I'm not entirely sure where I was going with this. Whee. Happy Thursday, bitches.
But the reason I am blogging from work with reckless abandon is that I have ceased caring about my well being. It is as though someone punched my brain in the "achieve great things" section and has left me with naught but the ability to express worthless opinions on the Internet.
I'm not entirely sure where I was going with this. Whee. Happy Thursday, bitches.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
A note about the weather
Weather. How boring, you say. Thren, why are you talking about the weather? There's parties and people, and movies, and events to discuss! Be that as it may, I've decided to discuss it.
Texas, or more specifically, the DFW area of Texas, is known for having ridiculously unpredictable weather during the winter. The last four days have proven the point. We went from seventy degree days down to 30 degree nights, to 65 degree days, and 30 degree nights, and suddenly the next day it was 30 degrees and raining. Tomorrow, it is supposed to be 70 again. I know what you're thinking. "Stop complaining, my car is under 3 feet of snow."
At least you have the luxury of snow days. Here, the ground is never cold enough for snow to stick, nor is it usually cold enough outside for more than 2 hours for ice to form anywhere but overpasses. Plus, with the ever-fluctuating weather, I've got the added hassle of needing to keep my winter AND summer clothes out all year long. On almost every winter morning, I do have to put on my heavy coat, gloves, and scarf, but 2 hours later, I have to wear short sleeves. The moral of the story, here, is that if you decide to make your home here, remember to wear layers, and leave a heavy sweater at work.
Today is an incredibly boring day.
Texas, or more specifically, the DFW area of Texas, is known for having ridiculously unpredictable weather during the winter. The last four days have proven the point. We went from seventy degree days down to 30 degree nights, to 65 degree days, and 30 degree nights, and suddenly the next day it was 30 degrees and raining. Tomorrow, it is supposed to be 70 again. I know what you're thinking. "Stop complaining, my car is under 3 feet of snow."
At least you have the luxury of snow days. Here, the ground is never cold enough for snow to stick, nor is it usually cold enough outside for more than 2 hours for ice to form anywhere but overpasses. Plus, with the ever-fluctuating weather, I've got the added hassle of needing to keep my winter AND summer clothes out all year long. On almost every winter morning, I do have to put on my heavy coat, gloves, and scarf, but 2 hours later, I have to wear short sleeves. The moral of the story, here, is that if you decide to make your home here, remember to wear layers, and leave a heavy sweater at work.
Today is an incredibly boring day.
Friday, January 2, 2009
December is dead...call me... January...
Well, another year beneath our belts, and what have we to show for it? Recession, panic, and LOOTING IN THE STREETS OH GOD RUN FOR YOUR LIVES WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE.
That's a bit of New Year's hyperbole, but here are just a few things I'm looking forward to in the coming months:
That's a bit of New Year's hyperbole, but here are just a few things I'm looking forward to in the coming months:
- New anime: Slayers: Revolution season 2 comes out soon! Ghost Slayer Ayashi comes out as well. SOUL EATER FINALLY GOT PICKED UP HERE! YEEE! Later in the year, I'm sure there will be more stuff I get excited about.
- New games: Gonna pick up Rock Band II for my Wii and the new Prince of Persia for my computar. Beyond that, I don't know!
- New gadgets: I will buy an ebook reader this year, and a new hard drive for my computer.
- New stuff: I'm making a list of furniture/apartment stuff that I am going to start saving for.
- New job: (or trying anyway)
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