Man oh man, Young Adulthood.

Found my wordpress blog I used to write unkind things on today. Man, was I angry. Actually, it's pretty understandable given the circumstances of a shared room, but now I think it's time to MOVE THESE ENTRIES SOMEWHERE MORE PRIVATE, yo.

Probably here. Under several locks and maybe a couple of ogres guarding the door. How good are ogres as guardians anyway?

EDIT: It turns out that WP allows both private settings and password protected options. I guess these particular not-for-children posts will remain where they are :D

Damn, couldn't get Wednesdays off, after all :\

No early Thanksgiving break for me :\

This is pin a lie.

Tired. So tired. And I'm not even done yet.

All I have to show for only sleeping 2.5 hours the day before recieving my undeserved alumni pin is a self-decorated tassel, because I couldn't be bothered to order the shiny symbol of ΨΧ.

I probably should see what can be moved back so junk doesn't clutter the world next six months.

It's done, but not quite.

It's strange to go through the motions of completion, yet..somehow there's really little to show for it. Besides, I'm not even quite done.

Oh well, at least this part is finished.

Caching in and catching up on sleep

I've been awake for 6.5 hours thus far today, and I'm foreseeing about 8 hours total of awake time at the most, considering how I'm already sleepy after my accidental 3-hour nap. Granted that this is potentially used for flu and general recovery from the past two weeks, it's probably fair.

Ah, went to FIRST SVR yesterday. Wanted to go Friday and deal with some paperwork on the way, but was too dizzy from the flu to drive back on Thursday. Early finals times are a mixed blessing.

Vacation until the twenty-eighth. Must use this time to do all the backlogged drawing and webby stuff.

Medicine, shower, phone call, then sleep again.

So sleepy.

Eyes and a finger.

The inner fold of my eyelids are a little further in (both eyes!) today. It gave the illusion of wider eyes, but on closer inspection, my eyes now look a little strange, like some barely noticeable make up. The down side is the utter weariness below the eyes that most certainly accompanies the double lids above.

I think it's time for some long overdue mud skin care tomorrow. Before I go over to dinner because I won't get back until the next day, probably. Curses, Stockholm syndrome!

In related news, I chopped off a small chuck of my left index finger nail making dinner. A tenth of a millimetre deeper would have meant pain and a bloody finger. Thank you, nails.

In other news, brain is about to go 'splody from all the astronomy, astrophysics, and astrobiology concepts and terms, even if it's just wiki.

I think...I might be doing better. But that's only because there's someone who keeps me in line. We're half way through this already; I found myself afraid to let go of that crutch. It's comfortable. And not so lonely.

A little afraid to get comfortable.

'Cus, hey, socially hesitant and unsure is not exactly new, is it?

Ha! Dead circuits in the house.

So I came out of the shower to find a portion of the house out of electricity: two of three sets of outlets in my room, hallway light and outlet, all of the living room plugs (save two), and one kitchen wall outlet (the one with the router)--essentially, everything along and near the central divide between the housing quarters and the living quarters. Or between the bathroom and bedrooms and living room and kitchen. I suspect it's whatever that causes the area above the ceiling valve-thing above the foot of my bed to make echoing noises whenever it rains. (The valve noises is how I can tell it's raining outside!).

A blown fuse wasn't the problem; it would have killed off all of the outlets in both bedrooms (6 total) plus the hallway plugs, anyway.

So I spent some time rewiring my room: one outlet strip is moved to the outlet next to my table, from which the stereo, laptop, external hard drive, heater, and router (brought in from the kitchen) draws power. The iPod now draws power from my laptop through an USB extension cable and hooked up to the stereo. It hangs in mid-air behind my chair because the alternative is to drape the almost long enough cable down the other side of me, thereby greatly increasing my risk of tripping and somehow knocking into the heater, inevitably burning some gratings onto some body part.

By the way, did I mention that I've been sick and sleep deprived for the past week and is currently forced to keep awake on chocolate-coated espresso beans? After demolishing about a third in about 10 days, they don't even seem strong enough now—I have to eat off the chocolate first, then crunch on the naked bean for the bam. And I'm pretty sure the sugar in the chocolate is making me more sick. A said I sound even more sick than when I first announced that I have finally succumbed to whatever that has been going around. Due to running around campus delivering (late) Valentine's roses without an umbrella in the the rain. (I just tried to spell umbrella with an e (in place of u), then again with a p (in place of the b), and some other odd variations. Ha, I'm getting more and more out of it.)

These three weeks seemed to have largely restore my ability to stay semi-functional with little to no sleep, something I haven't done much since junior year of high school. Actually, even then, it wasn't done with this degree of frequency. Or in sickness.

Wow I suck this quarter. Terrible on tests, not writing papers, no ambition, a fucking wreck,forgetting to do online homework, skipping classes, not working on important projects, sleeping about 3 hours on average with a pretty bad flu, biting off more than I could chew, accidentally wiping about 8GB of files from my computer then prioritising its recovery efforts before my lab report that was due the next day...Oh, and spending all this time blogging. About the only thing that got done was the double major petition.

I am such a fucking genius.

Percieved dehydration

There's just something about being forced to pee every thirty minutes that makes my (usual) dehydrated state more noticeable and irritable.

...Because I normally just ignore it.

I now have renewed intense dislike for incompetent human beings...

...I almost forgot those existed, what with my style of scholastic failure. I also forgot that they exist in my classes. It's really been too long since I had to work with other people. The group I had chosen to sit with was perfectly fine—maybe less than the absolutely bright and know what's going on kind, but they are great to converse with, with intelligent inputs and what seems to be a drive to do well.

But now that I was switched to a new group...

THEY ARE MORE INCOMPETENT THAN I. For once in such a very long time, I actually had to be nervous about what my group members were up to, whether they got the stuff done, and was worrying about the deadline (21:00).

And then, at 19:30, the one who holds all our communication lines (emails) finally sends something, saying she's sick. One email didn't go through, the other girl just didn't respond. So I had to add on whatever bits she missed (which was quite a lot) and patched enough things on the powerpoint to cover up for the lack of sources on her part.

I DON'T LIKE WORRYING ABOUT SCHOOL WORK AND TEAM MATES. IT'S BAD FOR MY HEALTH D:

In other news, I think a politics-related post is imminent. I can't stand not talking about it any further.

イチ。
I've been thinking that, if I ever get around to making new layouts, I should move this blog to a new address.

Layouts, domain, business, designs...gah! My brain is itching to not study for the two finals tomorrow!

に。
Of course I go hunt for newest chaptres of manga in Japanese, then try to read them with the help of a dictionary, on the nights before finals.

Surprisingly, it wasn't too hard.

Would it be too ambitious to try an itsy bitsy bit on novels now? (Probably, but that's not going to stop me, is it. The finals aren't, so what can?)

News: H.M. Dies at 82

■ H. M., an Unforgettable Amnesiac, Dies at 82

By BENEDICT CAREY
Published: December 5, 2008
Henry Gustav Molaison, or H.M., was recognized as the most important patient in the history of brain science.

My Human Memories professor had H.M.'s obituary, written by Dr. Corken(?), but it seems that only the NYTimes and AP versions are available.

Breaking from the results of procrastination.

ハイ、お久しぶりです。日本語はもう中々忘れてしまった様ですね。

Yes, I am currently in the middle of suffering from my completely, guiltily conscious and self-inflicted results of my avoidance problems. 

Yes, I am currently in the realm of 'I'm screwed and is past the redemption point, shit.' 

[Redemption at Amazon 

Low prices on Redemption. Qualified orders over $25 ship free]

Right, if only. 

But even I know I should stop for a bit (and probably should go shower) when I start hovering and squinting at the screen from less than twenty centimeters away. ('Six inches' sounds shorter, but I am attempting to rebel against American acculturation.)

'Twas going to say 'I'm such an 'effing wreck,' but on second thought, I can do worse. I really can. My study ethics are just completely down the drain, probably wrecking havoc on my transcripts. (I am too scared to check.) 

What with all the familial and social turmoil since last year this time, I think I feel drained. 

(I can never tell, until I look back and say, 'wow, what a deep, dark pit I was in, and am I still shaking off the reminants of shadows?')

My enthusiasm for persuing the cognition-intensive is dwindling. The drive for the pursue of perfection seemed to have been weakening since, oh, about three-and-a-half years ago. Seems like a very, very long time ago. In my young age, though, perhaps it is. It was 17% of my life ago, after all. That's close enough to one fifth, isn't it?

The way I cannot even consider admitting and write about some things until it's early morning and when time is tight (actually, I've given up on submitting it with full points attached).

(Not lying to yourself is painful. Physically percieving my own admittance to failure really, really hurts.

Why do I never fucking learn?)

Now that my skin is much more comfortable to live in, it's really time I work on not being a coward, face my shortcomings, battle against those terrible habits of indolence, steer myself from taking the path of least resistance (really, you're better than protein in a sizing column!), and stop fobbing myself off thinking that 'this is good enough' or 'it's too late.' 

And remember that I disliked those qualities enough to hurt others with it. 

And remember that I hate those qualities in myself, every time I experience it. 

Work, amygdala, damn it! 

(Or maybe they are working; it's only I who learned the response wrongly.)

...I am so very afraid and unwilling to look into the future. I am tired and no longer sure of my goals. I have always overestimated myself in the worse moments. And then underestimate myself in the wrong moments. I am no longer sure, while people around me seem to be over their uncertainty and are moving fowards. 

How rotten must I be, questioning myself only as critical moments approach? 

Not putting thoughts into necessary consideration just because I didn't want to? 

Ha! How like me.

Sometimes (with a frightening increase in frequency) I wish for someone to go spoil to. But this is probably only because I feel (am?) displaced from a place of comfort and security. I fancy that to be not far from the truth. 

Saying I am like a kitten kicked out of home and made to fend for myself would be unfair to those who are more similar to that situation than I. 

Perhaps that is what Byakko felt in his short residency in my place of study. Unanchored. Dislodged. Uncertain. 

Assimilating my feelings as a cat's seems terribly like regression and retreat from the actual truth, doesn't it. I am doing more and more of it. It's avoidance to pacify myself; fooling myself into thinking problem further diagnosed and closer to recovery is something that served me well in the past. 

What wonderful habit with such wonderous personality. 

Commentary Venting Anger on Our New Aggie Cartoonists

Amongst other things, I really regret not at least trying to out-compete one or more of our school newspaper's cartoonist.

Why?

One artists' first comic strip ('Life in General') is about her not having any ideas for one and begging for love from readers. Comp

letely uncute and the egocentricity leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Like those self-important kids in Gaia. The dialogue is too small (poorly planned out panels) and she places too much unnecessary details into the strip.

'CannDeeCorn' really irritated me probably because it is not even stupid. It's dull. Maybe the cartoonist is trying to do reflect school life and comment on attitude or something, but

 it didn't make sense; the students looks apathetic, not depressed! The simplicity and featureless style is not bad, but as a result, the details on the face, especially the mouth, stood out so much that it really bothers me. And there's not enough contrast between the focus (the prof.) and the mass (the students). And honestly, usually it's the back row that gets the shading, not the front. So the "..." in the back didn't stand out at all. Just, gah, no thought into it at all. So annoying thoughtless.

Yesterday's 'Iron Easily' is okay in the way chit-chat is okay—it's not funny or of substance, but it's very very mildly entertaining. At least it was zero rather than a negative. Because he used a slanted brush to line, doesn't systematically close his lines, draws everything in roundish free form, and no tone at all, had I had trouble distinguishing his furniture with his people.

'The Kids Aren't All Right' is not even worth commenting on. I'll pretend it doesn't exist.

Monday's 'Confounding Variables' is...in development. Style, planning, lining, printing,...everything. This is the first strip, but it reads like the readers are supposed to know what's going on already. Makes me think that she is a freshmen and this is her experience as the older sibling. Not cute. Especially when I believe that she's portraying herself as a wise older sib whom the younger seeks advice from. Not cute, not funny. I feel that something is missing between panel two and three. It'd probably benefit from some reaction from the younger sib before the older tells the younger to untie her. Oh, and the forehead bothers me, but that's a stylistic thing, so fine. (BTW, she's a sophomore in class standing.)

'Square One' is cute though. Teehee, secret weapon (is ten). It would be even better if she had some depth to her panels (crosshatches, shading, variation on line thickness) so it doesn't look as incomplete. But hey, best I've seen so far!

Other stuff: Hand-written dialogues are only fine if the artists' handwriting is like print. Like an architect's handwriting, with less swoosh. Or rather, consistent, unobtrusive, and doesn't stand out (as bad, messy, girly, fat, skinny, uneven, etc, etc.) I'm really sick of reading shoddy type. 'Nearing Acheron' was so much more pleasant.

HAI I SPENT $55 ON COPICS TODAE. LOLOLOLOLOL.

I realized, with some degree of disgust, that I am feeling accomplished from a ridiculously small amount of interpersonal communications. 3 phone calls, 2 emails, and one meeting today. Oh, and another call shall be made...oh, fine, I'll do it now.

I wonder what happened to me.

Probably on a lost track not to where I had hoped.

Talk about my cowardice should not be surprising now.

So easily lured by the easiest way out (by neglect).

Putting up a brave, mature front isn't very fun.

But not doing so is more stupid.

Current situation requires "independence" and "maturity" so the Parents would not worry.

"How is it going?" "Oh, just as usual."

...

Ah, it seems that not only have I screwed my own life up, I am also making it worse by still not being able to talk about it.

Damn that pride to the deepest reaches of the Mariana Trench.

Having The Cat with me makes me better and worse all at the same time.

Typical Student Emotion

And here I spray my pomegranate juice all over the laptop.

Through DJ:Missamy, WP:David's logbook

New school semester:


At the first week:


At the second week:


Before the mid-term test:


During the mid-term test:


After the mid-term test:


Before the final exam:


Once know the final exam schedule:


7 days before final exam:


6 days before final exam:


5 days before final exam:


4 days before final exam:


3 days before final exam:


2 days before final exam:


1 day before final exam:


A night before final exam:


1 hour before final exam:


During the final exam:


Once walk out from the exam hall:


After the final exam, during the holiday:

cross-sprayed juice over in LJ, too.

So let's recap(itulate) a little, without chronology, with a touch of melancholy self-hating, shall we?

This is point in time is not quite the end yet, so I shall reign in the reflections for a couple more days. But ruminations are certainly permissible, I think.

I walked out of Genetics final feeling quite lost and with plenty of regret. I am done with the class—the one (real) class that I enjoyed—and I prepared far too inadequately for it. Not as inadequate as the studying I tend to do for o-chem, but the guilt is worse. They weren't difficult questions, but only being able to recall the page and recognize the questions (the same questions) without the capacity to recall the details and the actual answer sits more heavily on my conscience than walking out of a(n) (o-chem) test knowing I have failed because I had absolutely no inkling to the answer.

I probably have grown quite attached to the professor, too. He was incredibly willing to share what he knows, and will answer questions beyond what was asked. My relatively numerous (but can still be counted on one hand) number of not-relevant-to-test-material-but-related questions probably facilitated that. He's also the adorable bumble-y grandfatherly types with a good sense of humor and love of metaphors...and I think I'm somewhat more easily attached to parental figures these days.

So tired and down but I know I shouldn't be.

I just felt like I failed the professor, the parents, and the self because I didn't study enough when I bloody knew my capabilities are far from my performance today. I know I can be brilliant, and there was absolutely no excuse for getting less than 95% today because all the answers were there and available and are things I have seen and should have remembered. And from what I've seen, calculated, and went through, I don't think there's really a chance for his curve to keep my grade in the borderline A-/A range (in which case I think I have accumulated enough "extra" points for an A).

Disappointment to the world, I am.

Self-hatred? Check.

(Too consumed to even talk about the internet problem anymore)

Drug(s).

It seems I had forgotten the wonderful wonders of CAFFEINE. COFFEE.

But it's been rediscovered. And now I'm running on no dinner and two cups of (barely passable instant) coffee and will be looking towards a third. Now I know the secret to O-Chem motivation: get high on caffeine. It's actually interesting and fun given that I'm awake and slightest bit giddy.

About time to pop another Ibuprofen, too, it seems. Can feel it in the lower abdomen (uterus) and lower back already...This stuff's punctuality is to be admired. Every six hours, on the dot, number of recommended tablets notwithstanding.

I know I have a third bag of instant somewhere around here. If not, I'll just beg Kitsu for her grounded ones.

Bill Clinton at UC Davis.

I was there. The line went all the way round the football soccer field and the ARC, then back at where the like started. Luckily, I was at where the end met the beginning, and when they opened the door, we cut! Good thing I was stupid and went around the lines looking for the end and didn't just line up when I did see the end of the line...

A friend had housemates who started lining up at 4pm, so he was right. in. front. of. Bill. LoL.

I was upstairs, towards the right from Bill's perspective...on the bleachers.



■ abc7news.com: Bill Clinton campaigns at UC Davis