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.

Birfdae.

I woke up hardly an hour ago, but today is still shaping up to be the best one in the past 3 years. Surrounding days notwithstanding. After all, I wasn't staying up getting my heart tugged around, inevitably pulling hard on the tear gland. Nor was I staying up avoiding my birthday party, not because of the company but because of an impending test.

This year, despite being lost about my direction in life and a real need to finish that report and plan this presentation and sort out that research schedule, today I will play. I slept for 17 hours (19 would be a better number) and is ready to forget about everything else, just for a day.

As an afterthought, maybe today just feels great because it's been somewhat crap for the past two weeks. Huh.

I think I'm a little off.

Because I'm thinking,

I want to sleep.

But went I really think about it,

I don't think it's because I feel like I will drop off any second. Or that my eyes are about to close.

It's not that.

But more of wandering, drifting thoughts, slow to form and quick to vanish.

My brain is surrounded by a gelatinous glob that is keeping me from thinking.

Though I know that I will fall asleep as soon as one of my temples rubs against something soft and...supportive.

Can't let that happen yet, though. My discipline needs to be disciplined more.

Ah.

Incoherent bits on the Obama inauguration

The CNN video refuses to embed D:

Watching the parade live: Michelle Obama is so cute, all smiley and peppy and dance-y to Signed Sealed Delievered even after so long. And CNN was trying to prod the CNN Live/Facebook users to comment more by highlighting them.

I was completely distracted for a good while by the photographs of Rahm Emanuel being caught making silly faces this morning.

Barack, Michelle, Joey B were bored bored bored, then the Chinese dragons and lions came out and woke them up for the next band :]

Wow. 1,200 VMI? I like their marching music.

OOH, NASA!Craft is last! Wait, where's the astronaut with the flag going?! Oh, Right, I guess the craft's not going the whole 1.7 miles.

I like how Obama and Biden's always Red and Blue. Not the first time they planned it. It's also not just me who thinks this presidency has very pretty and entertaining people in it. It's better than the actual entertainment world!

ALSO.
I really want an .mp3 rip of this video. The ones I've been finding/hearing is missing the beginning piano bits.

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.

OMG WUTS WRONG WIF ME

Shall I compare myself to a freakishly heavy rolling cart going over a hill?

It's always "I don't wanna do it" until I get started.

Then there's no stopping the rock. Or cart, in this case. 

"I love this rug."

Meeting of the (ex-)Presidents

George Jr.: I want to thank the president-elect, for, uh, joining the, uh, ex-presidents...For lunch. And by declaring myself as one of the ex-es, whatever happens next is none of my business. Tee-hee.

Bill: (amused and tries not to laugh) 

Jimmy: Everyone's ignoring me, so I guess I'll just stand off to the side and look like I enjoy myself  D:

Why does Barack looks like he's just pretending to take our current president (Remember: still a president until the 20th) in utmost seriousness? Too many nods and uncommittal "yes, yes, of course" noises, perhaps?

[George Jr. finishes speech]

Barack: The, uh...

[Lights go off] (Alright! Let's go get lunch, people!)

Barack: B..but wait! I haven't gotten my screentime yet! D:

George Jr.: (nudge) Lol. Decorum, sweetie. 

Barack: (CAMERAWHORES)

Bill: (Still amused and trying to not laugh) This is better than TV. 

George Jr.: Lol. How cute.

George Sr.: (impatient) C'mon...I need to go to the bathroom...

The awkwardness is wonderful. The pictures are better. But Bill small-talking George Jr. about the Oval Office Rug is the best bit. Oh, and the George Jr. *shrug tee-hee* bit at the end. 

Personally, this new presidency is getting off to a bad start—I'm purely following them for entertainment, as of a week ago. You see, The Flist That I Do Not Follow are quite a bit more worldly than I. So when I decide to check out whatever they have to offer, quite a bit comes through. 

Most of which then proceeds to drag me in with their absolute craziness. Last time I lasted a couple of hours. This time it was two days. It's like tentacle monsters and sailors. 

A depiction of Rahm, his BlackBerry, and his family did it for me this time. I guess my intellect is really free-falling off a cliff—at least my last phase as jumpstarted by sexy, witty mafia banter (which is still growing strong, by the way. Need more people in the bookverse, though D:)

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.