title.irrelevant = 1;
I experienced a seizure last night. It's the first time such a thing ever happened to me, so I had no idea what was going on. I was feeling terribly frustrated and depressed preceding it, but that never brought on a seizure before. Not too long before, I was in the middle of a conversation, barely able to type comprehendibly, with one-ton weights on my chest and my chair spiraling backwards in circles at 60 mph. About all I can remember is that my body started convulsing for a few frightening minutes to a flurry of incredible depression and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I panicked on top of that, drowning myself in a tears, which surely didn't help things at all. I don't remember anything between then and regaining consciousness on the cold linoleum floor (walk a thousand miles...). For a good few minutes, I struggled to gather where I was, and failed. I must have laid flat on my back for a good hour, staring up the ceiling which resembled the ground from 15,000 feet.
These are certain signs that I really am beginning to lose it. I've always considered myself a strong individual, but lately, I feel incredibly weak and vulnerable ... not at all far from going over the edge. What if something similar happens tonight? How will I deal with it? Will it be even worse? Could I even deal with it? What if I have another seizure and I'm incapable of exerting the judgment not to hurt myself? I'm just not sure how to deal with any of this. I don't want to tell my parents. I can't feel comfortable telling them things like that. We just don't have that kind of relationship. I refuse to pursue professional assistance... that's against my nature. If I can't help myself, sure as shit no one else is going to be able to help me.
I got out and attended biology lab, today. A miserable two and one half hours, to say the least. Let me be up front, here. I don't want to work with people. I don't want to cooperate with humans. I'm not a team player. I never will be. I always want to be alone and do my own thing. I don't want to be holed up in a small laboratory with artificial lighting and artificial air. I positively abhor it. I could barely concentrate on the work I was supposed to be doing, as I was too busy being miserable and trying to convince myself I could actually get through it. The thought of dropping out of school altogether crossed my mind, but I quickly realized that such a decision would only make me unhappier. It certainly wouldn't make anything better. I'd have to get a full-time job, and still deal with humans. I'm terribly disappointed in myself for even considering such a thing. That doesn't help my self-esteem, which has already sunk significantly throughout the past couple weeks. I guess it's only natural for someone who doesn't really belong anywhere.
I just remembered that I forgot to pick up maple syrup. Grrrr. I can't eat waffles without it. When I'm shopping, I often feel like closing my eyes, reaching out to the shelf, and grabbing the first item I touch. That would save me lots and lots of time. Why must I choose between fifty different toothpaste flavors and three dozen different types of bread? Too many choices; it's not healthy. I can't shop when I'm not of a decisive mindset. Having to decide on which flavor in which size of which brand of creamy ranch salad dressing in transparent squeeze bottles with green tops gets too overwhelming sometimes.
I want to be away from here. Far, far away from here...
Aug 25, 2004
Something tells me I don't belong here.
I make a point of going somewhere pleasant and serene everyday some time after class is over, if only because I wish to preserve my good health. If it weren't some physically strenuous activity and a dose of natural majesty on at least a semi-daily basis, my sanity would have been lost long ago. Indeed, if it weren't for exercise--a way to sweat out my mental and emotional tensions and physical antsiness, I'd be in serious trouble. My aggressions would overcome every semblance of self-restraint, and I'd thus be acting on impulse far more often, which would surely render dire consequences. I can't be comfortable merely sitting around all day; such a lifestyle would drive me crazy. I have to get out and run around on a regular basis. It gets my heart pumping, my blood flowing, my spirit invigorated... when I start getting frustrated over too many things, the best thing I can do is go out for a run ... and run it all off.
A couple hours ago, late in the afternoon, I decided to head down to the coast. The entire scenic lookout alongside the highway was unoccupied, so I decided to spend a little time there. I hopped over the thick rock wall supposedly erected to prevent the public from tumbling over the edge of the cliff into the sea, and sat down on the grass on the other side. I had a marvelous view of downtown across the bay, and a gargantuan cruise ship was docked at the port. The atmosphere was delightfully tranquil, for twilight was not too far off, and the air had become slightly cooler, with only a slight sea breeze gracing the coast. So there I sat, thoroughly enjoying the serenity of it all for maybe ten minutes or so, then this white minivan pulls up in the parking lot behind me. I try to block it all out, but realize doing so would be impossible when I look back to see this incredibly obese middle-aged lady leaning over the wall behind me, talking in a most obnoxiously shrill voice to her only slightly thinner apparent husband. Neither of them so much as look at me or acknowledge my presence, which I didn't particularly mind, as I figured they'd be off before too long. I was wrong. I heard a sliding door open, and the unmistakably dreadful sound of a crying baby. I felt my fists clenching and my heart rate rising even before any further events transpired. I dared not look back, but did try to will them away with my mind. I mean, I really tried. It didn't work. All of a sudden, I heard the screaming little fucker right behind me. They put the fucking baby seat with the baby in it on the wall. The baby wasn't enjoying the view; he was bawling his hideous little head off. The little worthless piece of shit was born and continued to exist just to piss me off and send my homocidal tendencies right over the edge. The baby kept wailing, and neither of the two adults made -any- attempt to shut it up! Of course, they also let their little girl, the one who apparently opened the sliding door, to run around and scream at the top of her lungs as well! Damn these fucking humans who apparently have -no- courtesy for anyone else. They could have at the very least moved a little farther down the line once they noticed they had invaded my little territorial circle. Even though they never acknowledged my presence once, there is no way they couldn't have seen me. But since when do most humans have any respect for someone else's space and sense of tranquility? Not these shitheads. I wanted to grab that goddamn baby, shake it a hundred times, and throw it into the ocean, then watch both of those assholes jump in afterwards to try to save it, then drown. Instead, I simply stood up, gazed at both of the stupid adults for a few seconds, then pulled out my camera and snapped their picture. They looked at me quite queerly; almost as if they were stunned. They weren't half as stunned as I was though. ...Astonished at how rude and inconsiderate so many people can be, and not even seem to realize it. Maybe that'll give them something to think about.
I'm not afraid or ashamed to admit that I hate human babies. They're just about the most demonic, ugly, sinister thing I can think of in this world. It's not something I'm proud of either; just something I've learned to accept for truth. I've never found them adorable in the slightest. They are cacophonous, repugnant, worthless drool factories. Humans, for the most part, just make too much damn noise, and I often entertain fantasies of lining up a few hundred humans a day, and tearing out their larynxes one by one. I'd like to do whatever I can to make this world a more peaceful place to live. Today's horrible experience reminded me why I so often go out of my way to get far off the beaten path, to a place I'm quite assured no one could ever reach me. I'm not going to bother concealing how bitter I truly feel. Humans can take their noisy cars, cell phones that fold into cameras and twist into dildos, worthless screeching maggots they call babies, greasy fast food, and go straight to hell.
Anyway!
Later this afternoon, I wandered down to Onomea Bay, quite a bit farther away from town, and much farther from the highway. It's been one of my favorite places to simply wander about and enjoy peacefully for about a year, now. Late in the day, I never run into another soul, and yet... the place is most beautiful at that time. A narrow paved trail leads down to the wide mouth of a heavily forested gulch, and continues across a bridge and through a botanical garden, which is entirely fenced in. Just past the garden, the trail turns to gravel and dives right into a stream. Of course, one can keep their feet dry by scrambling along the bank down to the nice rocky beach and then back up the adjacent ridge. The ridge, adorned with a lone palm tree, is a magnificent place to simply sit and gaze out over the ocean for an hour or more.
I was also up for a little adventure, today. I disregarded all the "lolz no terspasing this meanz u neal!!!!!" signs posted all over the chain link fences standing between me and the botanical garden, and hopped right over the gates. There's something that appeals to me about avoiding a $25 registration fee, not to mention all the tourists who submit to paying it, enough to wait until after the garden "closes" at 5:00, then sneak in. It's a lovely little walk through the rainforest on paths fit for a king, especially around twilight when the good ol' frogs start their motors and inspire your sense of detachment from civilization with their enchanting chorus.
Oh, both the memory cards out of my old camera still work... I was extremely elated to discover that.
Seeing as I'm rather sick of looking into a computer screen, I could do some textbook reading... but I'm much more inclined just to watch a movie. Airplane! usually manages to put me in a much more light-hearted mood... there's just something about satirical comedy that's deliberately cheesy as hell that tickles my funny bone.
A couple hours ago, late in the afternoon, I decided to head down to the coast. The entire scenic lookout alongside the highway was unoccupied, so I decided to spend a little time there. I hopped over the thick rock wall supposedly erected to prevent the public from tumbling over the edge of the cliff into the sea, and sat down on the grass on the other side. I had a marvelous view of downtown across the bay, and a gargantuan cruise ship was docked at the port. The atmosphere was delightfully tranquil, for twilight was not too far off, and the air had become slightly cooler, with only a slight sea breeze gracing the coast. So there I sat, thoroughly enjoying the serenity of it all for maybe ten minutes or so, then this white minivan pulls up in the parking lot behind me. I try to block it all out, but realize doing so would be impossible when I look back to see this incredibly obese middle-aged lady leaning over the wall behind me, talking in a most obnoxiously shrill voice to her only slightly thinner apparent husband. Neither of them so much as look at me or acknowledge my presence, which I didn't particularly mind, as I figured they'd be off before too long. I was wrong. I heard a sliding door open, and the unmistakably dreadful sound of a crying baby. I felt my fists clenching and my heart rate rising even before any further events transpired. I dared not look back, but did try to will them away with my mind. I mean, I really tried. It didn't work. All of a sudden, I heard the screaming little fucker right behind me. They put the fucking baby seat with the baby in it on the wall. The baby wasn't enjoying the view; he was bawling his hideous little head off. The little worthless piece of shit was born and continued to exist just to piss me off and send my homocidal tendencies right over the edge. The baby kept wailing, and neither of the two adults made -any- attempt to shut it up! Of course, they also let their little girl, the one who apparently opened the sliding door, to run around and scream at the top of her lungs as well! Damn these fucking humans who apparently have -no- courtesy for anyone else. They could have at the very least moved a little farther down the line once they noticed they had invaded my little territorial circle. Even though they never acknowledged my presence once, there is no way they couldn't have seen me. But since when do most humans have any respect for someone else's space and sense of tranquility? Not these shitheads. I wanted to grab that goddamn baby, shake it a hundred times, and throw it into the ocean, then watch both of those assholes jump in afterwards to try to save it, then drown. Instead, I simply stood up, gazed at both of the stupid adults for a few seconds, then pulled out my camera and snapped their picture. They looked at me quite queerly; almost as if they were stunned. They weren't half as stunned as I was though. ...Astonished at how rude and inconsiderate so many people can be, and not even seem to realize it. Maybe that'll give them something to think about.
I'm not afraid or ashamed to admit that I hate human babies. They're just about the most demonic, ugly, sinister thing I can think of in this world. It's not something I'm proud of either; just something I've learned to accept for truth. I've never found them adorable in the slightest. They are cacophonous, repugnant, worthless drool factories. Humans, for the most part, just make too much damn noise, and I often entertain fantasies of lining up a few hundred humans a day, and tearing out their larynxes one by one. I'd like to do whatever I can to make this world a more peaceful place to live. Today's horrible experience reminded me why I so often go out of my way to get far off the beaten path, to a place I'm quite assured no one could ever reach me. I'm not going to bother concealing how bitter I truly feel. Humans can take their noisy cars, cell phones that fold into cameras and twist into dildos, worthless screeching maggots they call babies, greasy fast food, and go straight to hell.
Anyway!
Later this afternoon, I wandered down to Onomea Bay, quite a bit farther away from town, and much farther from the highway. It's been one of my favorite places to simply wander about and enjoy peacefully for about a year, now. Late in the day, I never run into another soul, and yet... the place is most beautiful at that time. A narrow paved trail leads down to the wide mouth of a heavily forested gulch, and continues across a bridge and through a botanical garden, which is entirely fenced in. Just past the garden, the trail turns to gravel and dives right into a stream. Of course, one can keep their feet dry by scrambling along the bank down to the nice rocky beach and then back up the adjacent ridge. The ridge, adorned with a lone palm tree, is a magnificent place to simply sit and gaze out over the ocean for an hour or more.
I was also up for a little adventure, today. I disregarded all the "lolz no terspasing this meanz u neal!!!!!" signs posted all over the chain link fences standing between me and the botanical garden, and hopped right over the gates. There's something that appeals to me about avoiding a $25 registration fee, not to mention all the tourists who submit to paying it, enough to wait until after the garden "closes" at 5:00, then sneak in. It's a lovely little walk through the rainforest on paths fit for a king, especially around twilight when the good ol' frogs start their motors and inspire your sense of detachment from civilization with their enchanting chorus.
Oh, both the memory cards out of my old camera still work... I was extremely elated to discover that.
Seeing as I'm rather sick of looking into a computer screen, I could do some textbook reading... but I'm much more inclined just to watch a movie. Airplane! usually manages to put me in a much more light-hearted mood... there's just something about satirical comedy that's deliberately cheesy as hell that tickles my funny bone.
Taking matters into my own paws
It's rather unpleasant to wake up one day, boot up your computer, and discover that your CD-ROM drive is missing. Oh, it's there physically, but Win XP decides it'd rather have nothing to do with it, so one couldn't access a CD on it for the life of them. I abhor the process of calling up tech support, being on hold for twenty minutes, then having a technician go through with me a long list of standard troubleshooting methods that anyone who isn't completely computer illiterate has already tried. I'd rather spend two or three hours tracking down the source of the problem myself than have my intelligence insulted in such a manner. I messed with it a good deal last night. Nothing the Dell help files suggested worked. Microsoft's recommended solutions proved useless... only this morning, I ran a search on Google and happened to stumble upon a website that actually provided some useful information that didn't inherently assume the viewer had to be a moron. Microsoft probably never would have told me all I had to do was delete the Upperfilters and Lowerfilters values from HKEY_LOCAL_MACHINE\SYSTEM\CurrentControlSet\Control\Class\{4D36E965-E325-11CE-BFC1-08002BE10318} to get everything working properly again. They probably just don't want most people messing with that sort of thing without geek guidance, but most people are liable to screw everything up. Well, that fixed everything for me. I don't expect anyone reading this to find any of this interesting thus far, but it does lead up to a point. Resolving such issues as these entirely on my own, even-- well, especially if it takes hours of research, trial and error, and episodes of intense frustration, is truly gratifying. Anything that validates how truly independent I like to perceive myself as... is extremely uplifting.
In retrospect, I'm astounded that I managed to cope with attending a consecutive seven and one half hours of class two days out of every week for two straight semesters, especially when I find myself getting fidgety after only two straight fifty minute class periods. Holy Arcy, how did I manage to condition my mind and body to sit on hard chairs for such a length of time on such days? I cannot help but stress once again that my furry butt just isn't designed for that kind of thing. A similar phenomenon is how I can train myself not to become annoyed by the persistent screeches of all the little kids at the preschool just down the street. A few days ago, I could barely tolerate it, and always had to have music playing to drown out the cacophonous noise, but now, I hardly notice it. The power of adaptation truly is phenomenal, and should not be taken for granted as often as it is.
Looking at the big picture, because the various pixels that comprise it are themselves usually not worth fussing over, life is good. Having no more than three hours of lecture per day works out extremely well for me. I honestly feel like an old hand at college anymore. When I was a freshman, everything was entirely chaotic, confusing, and unfamiliar, as one might imagine. Now, it all seems routine... not to sound pompous at all, but I'm starting to feel like a professional student. It seems I always know what to expect when walking into a new classroom, and my maturity has developed so that mandatory personal introductions on the first day of class no longer intimidate nor irk me. Every semester, I gain a plethora of new experience that builds on to all the experience I already have, and just recognizing this fact is extremely satisfying. Over the years, I have managed to train my mind to hardly ever wander off during a lecture, no matter how dry or dull the material is. I've even grown accustomed to the criminal textbook prices. I sure am drawing out my tenure as a student, and I believe my parents have already caught onto that fact. Fortunately, they aren't rushing me, and have no serious qualms of my not graduating in a quick four years and jumping straight into the workforce. I'm enjoying the college lifestyle too much right now, but I have a strong feeling that in another year or so, I'll become rather sick of it. Hopefully, by that time, graduation won't be much further away.
I really need to check out yard/garage sales more often. Last Saturday, my father and I decided to drive down to Waikoloa, "a village" we rarely visit because it's located in the middle of a semi-desert wasteland, and look for furniture. There were yard sales seemingly everywhere, but the first one we went to, we found a nice single bed, headboard, and plenty of sheets and blankets thrown in for a mere $75. A marvelous deal, considering the quality of the bed and headboard. We threw the bed in my old bedroom, and I took the headboard into my new apartment, where it's proven to be a valuable addition. The real score, however, was a big dark blue vinyl recliner for $40. The material shows some considerable wear, but not to the point of holes or patches... and the mechanisms work nearly good as new. It's perfect for my apartment, as well. I now understand why many people enjoy spending their Saturdays yard saling.
I have much more on my mind, but I must get ready for class. It's such a pleasant overcast day, I may just ride my bike to school today.
In retrospect, I'm astounded that I managed to cope with attending a consecutive seven and one half hours of class two days out of every week for two straight semesters, especially when I find myself getting fidgety after only two straight fifty minute class periods. Holy Arcy, how did I manage to condition my mind and body to sit on hard chairs for such a length of time on such days? I cannot help but stress once again that my furry butt just isn't designed for that kind of thing. A similar phenomenon is how I can train myself not to become annoyed by the persistent screeches of all the little kids at the preschool just down the street. A few days ago, I could barely tolerate it, and always had to have music playing to drown out the cacophonous noise, but now, I hardly notice it. The power of adaptation truly is phenomenal, and should not be taken for granted as often as it is.
Looking at the big picture, because the various pixels that comprise it are themselves usually not worth fussing over, life is good. Having no more than three hours of lecture per day works out extremely well for me. I honestly feel like an old hand at college anymore. When I was a freshman, everything was entirely chaotic, confusing, and unfamiliar, as one might imagine. Now, it all seems routine... not to sound pompous at all, but I'm starting to feel like a professional student. It seems I always know what to expect when walking into a new classroom, and my maturity has developed so that mandatory personal introductions on the first day of class no longer intimidate nor irk me. Every semester, I gain a plethora of new experience that builds on to all the experience I already have, and just recognizing this fact is extremely satisfying. Over the years, I have managed to train my mind to hardly ever wander off during a lecture, no matter how dry or dull the material is. I've even grown accustomed to the criminal textbook prices. I sure am drawing out my tenure as a student, and I believe my parents have already caught onto that fact. Fortunately, they aren't rushing me, and have no serious qualms of my not graduating in a quick four years and jumping straight into the workforce. I'm enjoying the college lifestyle too much right now, but I have a strong feeling that in another year or so, I'll become rather sick of it. Hopefully, by that time, graduation won't be much further away.
I really need to check out yard/garage sales more often. Last Saturday, my father and I decided to drive down to Waikoloa, "a village" we rarely visit because it's located in the middle of a semi-desert wasteland, and look for furniture. There were yard sales seemingly everywhere, but the first one we went to, we found a nice single bed, headboard, and plenty of sheets and blankets thrown in for a mere $75. A marvelous deal, considering the quality of the bed and headboard. We threw the bed in my old bedroom, and I took the headboard into my new apartment, where it's proven to be a valuable addition. The real score, however, was a big dark blue vinyl recliner for $40. The material shows some considerable wear, but not to the point of holes or patches... and the mechanisms work nearly good as new. It's perfect for my apartment, as well. I now understand why many people enjoy spending their Saturdays yard saling.
I have much more on my mind, but I must get ready for class. It's such a pleasant overcast day, I may just ride my bike to school today.
Aug 19, 2004
co-QUI!
They insisted that it would take me at least a few weeks to grow accustomed to the high-pitched, cacophonous chirping of the dreaded Coqui frog. Even though I hadn't been able to identify the sound they produce before, I wasn't convinced I would be bothered by it. I was warned that they congregate in large numbers in the woodsy areas around here, where moisture and dense canopy cover is always abundant. These little frogs are barely larger than the size of my thumbnail, I was admonished, but they cause a ruckus in the evening that drive many people crazy. Well, good thing I'm not many people.
Efforts are continuously being made to eradicate this alien species from the islands. They were successful in eliminating the population up north, where I just moved from, but over here, they're out of control. As soon as twilight makes its standard slippery appearance, one hears a high-pitched "co-QUI," then another, and another, until the air is filled with distinguishably amphibious "co-QUI's." The realtor expressed more than slight aggravation over their presence, raising my concern levels a fair amount. "How bad are these frogs?" I thought. "Surely, most people must agree that they're entirely obnoxious for it to be officially classified as one of Hawaii's most obnoxious pests."
Thankfully, I was wrong. The coqui makes a most euphonious noise. I recall those evenings where I was walking across campus to my car when I heard such a pleasant double-note coming from a single individual. Admittedly, I thought it was some type of bird high up in the Chinese Banyon tree, and found its chirp delightful. And I was delighted to discover last night that such a chirp belongs to these "horrible" frogs that have caused such an uproar around these parts. They don't invade anyone's home and raid their pantry, they don't gnaw on the infrastructures of their houses, they don't destroy ecosystems, and they certainly don't spread any diseases. They simply stay in their little shady habitats and chirp. To me, they're no worse than crickets, and I find myself appreciating their presence. Without them, this entire area would be completely dominated by cacophonous anthropogenic sounds whenever silence does not prevail. They provide a constant aural backdrop that I find remarkably relaxing, and even uplifting. I'm thankful for them. I can lay back in my bed and listen to them, and slowly fall asleep imagining I'm wandering around deep in a rainforest somewhere. And people go apeshit over these things spreading to their neighborhood? As much as I try, I just can't seem to understand humans. I also appreciate birds a lot more than most people seem to, as well... I often pay close attention to their song rather than simply take them for granted. I can spend hours just watching them fly about the trees, cliffs, or buildings, or waddle about the ground in search of food or personal amusement. Such quick, graceful, aesthetically appealing movements they have... even the big fat myna birds that eat most of my dog's food then poop on our jalecies. What a freak I am.
Perhaps dogs that bark continuously for twenty hours everyday should be the foci of eradication efforts. No, their owners should be eradicated for not having the common courtesy toward their neighbors to actually make an effort to silence their stupid mutts. I've honestly concluded that I generally can't respect domesticated canines that much... not because of who or what they are, but because they inherently have entirely too much human power and influence over them. They are who they are because of humans, and being of a wild nature myself... that's not something I can respect. It's not hard for me to look at a chihuahua and conclude that such a ridiculous-looking thing must have spawned from a sick joke. I can look at certain exotic breeds of toy dogs and feel an urge to personally strangle them, before I promptly remind myself that such an abomination of canine dignity is the fault of humans, not the animal itself. Leave it to humans to turn a majestic wolf into a little panting mop named Sissy. I'd like to personally eradicate every human who treats their own dog as a novelty item. I'd like to eradicate everyone who dresses their dog up and accessorizes it and pushes it around in a stroller like a 5 year old girl would a Barbie doll. I'd like to exterminate anyone who chains their dog to a post and completely neglects it, save for using it on the occasional hunting trip. To see animals so dominated by humans, to see them be so willingly dominated, has always bothered me. To watch them roll over and submit whenever their owner raises their voice makes me feel pity for them, and even a certain degree of contempt. So many desire to have a little slice of the wild living inside their home with them... so long as it's safe and friendly! Of course, I really must keep remembering... an average pampered domesticated mutt wouldn't survive long in the wild. Let them survive on processed dog food and human affection. I know I'd never be happy that way, but so long as they are.
Hm... right now, I'm laying back diagonally on my bed by the window, with my legs bent upward and my notebook resting on my lap. It's an incredibly comfortable position. With a wireless router and wi-fi card, the Internet is transferred straight to my computer, no cables attached. The move worked out wonderfully, the bed issue notwithstanding. As the box spring of my double bed wouldn't fit in the truck, it had to be placed atop the roof rack and transported that way. We decided to go ahead and shove the upper mattress on top of that, too. It worked well until about halfway to our destination. Not long after we came down from the mountain pass and reached the windward coast, the bed was shifting all over the place above me. My father, who followed behind me in the sedan, also transporting several of my possessions, must have waved me over to the shoulder about five times or so, telling me the load needed to be adjusted before we lost it completely and killed another driver. So, that was quite stressful, but we made it to the apartment in one piece. As a result of all our screwing around, we arrived a half hour past our appointment with the landlady for the paper signing. Fortunately, she had stuck around. And just fifteen minutes after that, the Road Runner service professional showed up, ready to hook up the Internet. Good timing, I must say, and I feel it's all good karma, as well-- a sign that my occupancy of this apartment and residency in this town should work out quite well.
I've spent most of the last two days unpacking, organizing, and shopping-- and not much else. My space already appears decent-looking. I'd take pictures, but the day before I left for here, I received the unsurprising news from Minolta that my camera is "economically unrepairable." I just love deciphering such printed cryptograms. It just means that I'm going to be ordering that $399 6.0 megapixel replacement from bestbuy.com in no time at all. Hey, I'll have six months to pay it all off, interest-free, and a digital camera is something I feel... almost naked without. I'm not dependent on one, certainly, but without one... I feel so much of my self-perceived photographic talent going to waste. Whenever I see a scene of beauty that I cannot capture-- everyday, that is, I just feel at a loss. I'm going to keep Troy II on a tight leash. No more bounding across slippery rocks in a stream unless he's wrapped tightly around my wrist. Fishing for cameras is not worth all the fishing for excuses later.
Yay for randomness, but I got my own P.O. box today at the downtown station which happens to be less than a mile from here. I treasure my privacy immensely.
This is a rather nice neighborhood, for being a $400/month apartment not far at all from downtown. It's a comfortable distance past the junky old apartments there, full of noisy residents, and it seems very safe. Car alarms are absolutely unheard of around here, and locking the front door at night is something many don't even bother to do. People in this building haven't been making too much noise at all. On one end of the street is a pre-school, where screaming little monsters can be heard in the morning. Definitely a minus, but ear plugs are usually enough to remedy the situation. And on the other end lies Dodo Mortuary, whose sign I can clearly read from the bathroom window. I want to be dead as a dodo at Dodo Mortuary!!
In conclusion... co-QUI!
Efforts are continuously being made to eradicate this alien species from the islands. They were successful in eliminating the population up north, where I just moved from, but over here, they're out of control. As soon as twilight makes its standard slippery appearance, one hears a high-pitched "co-QUI," then another, and another, until the air is filled with distinguishably amphibious "co-QUI's." The realtor expressed more than slight aggravation over their presence, raising my concern levels a fair amount. "How bad are these frogs?" I thought. "Surely, most people must agree that they're entirely obnoxious for it to be officially classified as one of Hawaii's most obnoxious pests."
Thankfully, I was wrong. The coqui makes a most euphonious noise. I recall those evenings where I was walking across campus to my car when I heard such a pleasant double-note coming from a single individual. Admittedly, I thought it was some type of bird high up in the Chinese Banyon tree, and found its chirp delightful. And I was delighted to discover last night that such a chirp belongs to these "horrible" frogs that have caused such an uproar around these parts. They don't invade anyone's home and raid their pantry, they don't gnaw on the infrastructures of their houses, they don't destroy ecosystems, and they certainly don't spread any diseases. They simply stay in their little shady habitats and chirp. To me, they're no worse than crickets, and I find myself appreciating their presence. Without them, this entire area would be completely dominated by cacophonous anthropogenic sounds whenever silence does not prevail. They provide a constant aural backdrop that I find remarkably relaxing, and even uplifting. I'm thankful for them. I can lay back in my bed and listen to them, and slowly fall asleep imagining I'm wandering around deep in a rainforest somewhere. And people go apeshit over these things spreading to their neighborhood? As much as I try, I just can't seem to understand humans. I also appreciate birds a lot more than most people seem to, as well... I often pay close attention to their song rather than simply take them for granted. I can spend hours just watching them fly about the trees, cliffs, or buildings, or waddle about the ground in search of food or personal amusement. Such quick, graceful, aesthetically appealing movements they have... even the big fat myna birds that eat most of my dog's food then poop on our jalecies. What a freak I am.
Perhaps dogs that bark continuously for twenty hours everyday should be the foci of eradication efforts. No, their owners should be eradicated for not having the common courtesy toward their neighbors to actually make an effort to silence their stupid mutts. I've honestly concluded that I generally can't respect domesticated canines that much... not because of who or what they are, but because they inherently have entirely too much human power and influence over them. They are who they are because of humans, and being of a wild nature myself... that's not something I can respect. It's not hard for me to look at a chihuahua and conclude that such a ridiculous-looking thing must have spawned from a sick joke. I can look at certain exotic breeds of toy dogs and feel an urge to personally strangle them, before I promptly remind myself that such an abomination of canine dignity is the fault of humans, not the animal itself. Leave it to humans to turn a majestic wolf into a little panting mop named Sissy. I'd like to personally eradicate every human who treats their own dog as a novelty item. I'd like to eradicate everyone who dresses their dog up and accessorizes it and pushes it around in a stroller like a 5 year old girl would a Barbie doll. I'd like to exterminate anyone who chains their dog to a post and completely neglects it, save for using it on the occasional hunting trip. To see animals so dominated by humans, to see them be so willingly dominated, has always bothered me. To watch them roll over and submit whenever their owner raises their voice makes me feel pity for them, and even a certain degree of contempt. So many desire to have a little slice of the wild living inside their home with them... so long as it's safe and friendly! Of course, I really must keep remembering... an average pampered domesticated mutt wouldn't survive long in the wild. Let them survive on processed dog food and human affection. I know I'd never be happy that way, but so long as they are.
Hm... right now, I'm laying back diagonally on my bed by the window, with my legs bent upward and my notebook resting on my lap. It's an incredibly comfortable position. With a wireless router and wi-fi card, the Internet is transferred straight to my computer, no cables attached. The move worked out wonderfully, the bed issue notwithstanding. As the box spring of my double bed wouldn't fit in the truck, it had to be placed atop the roof rack and transported that way. We decided to go ahead and shove the upper mattress on top of that, too. It worked well until about halfway to our destination. Not long after we came down from the mountain pass and reached the windward coast, the bed was shifting all over the place above me. My father, who followed behind me in the sedan, also transporting several of my possessions, must have waved me over to the shoulder about five times or so, telling me the load needed to be adjusted before we lost it completely and killed another driver. So, that was quite stressful, but we made it to the apartment in one piece. As a result of all our screwing around, we arrived a half hour past our appointment with the landlady for the paper signing. Fortunately, she had stuck around. And just fifteen minutes after that, the Road Runner service professional showed up, ready to hook up the Internet. Good timing, I must say, and I feel it's all good karma, as well-- a sign that my occupancy of this apartment and residency in this town should work out quite well.
I've spent most of the last two days unpacking, organizing, and shopping-- and not much else. My space already appears decent-looking. I'd take pictures, but the day before I left for here, I received the unsurprising news from Minolta that my camera is "economically unrepairable." I just love deciphering such printed cryptograms. It just means that I'm going to be ordering that $399 6.0 megapixel replacement from bestbuy.com in no time at all. Hey, I'll have six months to pay it all off, interest-free, and a digital camera is something I feel... almost naked without. I'm not dependent on one, certainly, but without one... I feel so much of my self-perceived photographic talent going to waste. Whenever I see a scene of beauty that I cannot capture-- everyday, that is, I just feel at a loss. I'm going to keep Troy II on a tight leash. No more bounding across slippery rocks in a stream unless he's wrapped tightly around my wrist. Fishing for cameras is not worth all the fishing for excuses later.
Yay for randomness, but I got my own P.O. box today at the downtown station which happens to be less than a mile from here. I treasure my privacy immensely.
This is a rather nice neighborhood, for being a $400/month apartment not far at all from downtown. It's a comfortable distance past the junky old apartments there, full of noisy residents, and it seems very safe. Car alarms are absolutely unheard of around here, and locking the front door at night is something many don't even bother to do. People in this building haven't been making too much noise at all. On one end of the street is a pre-school, where screaming little monsters can be heard in the morning. Definitely a minus, but ear plugs are usually enough to remedy the situation. And on the other end lies Dodo Mortuary, whose sign I can clearly read from the bathroom window. I want to be dead as a dodo at Dodo Mortuary!!
In conclusion... co-QUI!
Aug 14, 2004
Hey Arcy...
...you are about as adorable as they come when you're half asleep and look so confused, you know that?
Aug 11, 2004
Anyone will tell you it's a prisoner island...
First of all, picture show and tell!
The cool, damp, grey uplifting majesty of a rainy day...
North cliffs on a stormy day...
Scenic Bike Ride 1...
Scenic Bike Ride 2...
And now, a nice list of songs I've been enjoying immensely lately (needless to say, I recommend all of them):
"On Top of the World" - Gouryella
"Popcorn" - Kraftwerk
"Feel For You" - The Mystery
"Never Never Land" - Infected Mushroom
"Satellite" - Oceanlab
"Cancer" - Filter
"Great Southern Land" - Icehouse
"Our Future" - Deep Forest
"Blue Monday" - New Order
"Ballroom Blitz" - Wayne's World Version
"Origami Moon" - Origins
"Life is Too Short" - Kai Tracid
"Nothing Left" - Orbital
"Everything's Not Lost" - Coldplay
"Big Mouth Strikes Again" - Chumbawamba
"Pop Star Kidnap" - Chumbawamba
"If it is to be, it is up to me" - Chumbawamba
"1969" - Boards of Canada
"La Femme d'Argent" - Air
"Talisman" - Air
"Still Fighting It" - Ben Folds Five
"Run" - Collective Soul
"Erase and Rewind" - The Cardigans
"All Day" - Ministry
"Natural" - DJ Jean Djaxx
"Extreme Ways" - Moby
"Rushing" - Moby
"Era (Nostalgia Mix)" - TaQ
"Wavy Gravy" - DJ Sasha
I could go on and on, but due to time constraints, I'll move ahead to further action.
I finally got around to downloading Mozilla Firefox V. 0.9, and almost immediately after using it for the first time, I concluded that Internet Explorer had better start watching its back. Not only does this browser contain a built-in pop-up blocker, an extension can be downloaded which also prevents the user from ever seeing many other types of annoying advertising, such as kangaroos hopping across the screen and other such jive. Another extension allows the user to navigate using "mouse gestures." I have it set so that drawing an imaginary "0" with my mouse while holding down the right-click button takes me back to Google.com. It's a lazy, but efficient method of browsing. Being able to edit CSS in real time is another terrific feature, as is Spiderzilla, which allows me to download entire websites and all their content at once. And I just can't rave enough about how nice it is to view multiple websites in the same browser window. I imagine this browser will become quite mainstream once the first non-beta version is released... it might very well replace Explorer as -the- browser of choice. Knowing Microsoft, though, it'll probably try to outdo Mozilla by imitating them in nearly every department.
I've been spending an hour or two a day playing Starfox Adventures for Game Cube, and I must tell you, it's magnificent. It's difficult for me to get into many modern day games, as most of them unbearably boring to me, but SA is certainly an exception. I find myself strangely drawn to some of the characters, namely the male fox aptly named Fox (whom I currently control), and the female fox named Krystal. To simply navigate this handsome, adorable furry around is a pleasure in itself, but the realms we explore... my goodness, they are nothing short of breathtaking. The streams, waterfalls, trees, mountains, animals, and dinosaurs are all so perfectly rendered they almost look real. I spend much of my time just wandering around admiring the visuals, imagining I'm lost in this majestic world. I truly do feel captivated by it more times than not. The sun regularly rises and sets, leaving me free to wander about the night and gaze up at the stars until dawn reawakens. Then, there's the unexpected cloudbursts... sudden rainstorms sweep over the realm, and to gaze up at the lightning show is nothing short of spectacular. This game is more than a game for me, really... it's a separate world I can escape to. It inspires my imagination more than any video game has in a long, long time. And I'm told I have yet to get to best parts of the game... ahhh.
I watched [i]Who Wants to be a Millionaire?[/i] the other day, the first time since arriving back home, and I was reminded of something I've always found perplexing. How is it that when a contestant in the hot seat uses his or her 'phone a friend' lifeline, their friend/relative always answers on the first ring? How many people are likely to pick up on the first ring, or even be available? I wish the scant few I try to get ahold of by telephone would always pick up on the first ring. With Millionaire, it always works so flawlessly. Well, I suppose it should. Imagine Regis or what's-her-name sitting around staring at the contestant while the phone continues to ring for a few minutes... that would place an awful lot of pressure on the contestant, certainly, and qualify as empty air time. "Pick up, damn you!" Obviously, it's all pre-arranged, which makes me wonder about the entire show. I can most easily deduce that they don't actually call anyone at all, and "their friends at AT&T" probably connect to someone backstage hired to be that contestant's "friend." You just can't expect me to believe that every contestant always reaches some random friend of theirs on the very first ring. Of course, there's reality TV, which is an oxymoron if I ever heard one. There is reality, and there is television, but there is no reality television. Anything can happen in reality; the conditions are not controlled in any shape or form, whereas television is staged. They wouldn't let anyone on Survivor starve to death or die of dysentery. In reality, people don't follow you around everywhere with microphones and cameras or vote you off the island because you came in last place on the beach bamboo-jabbing competition. That's why reality television is something I will probably never come to appreciate. It's nearly as phony as a movie on the Sci-Fi channel, and it has the nerve to label itself "reality programming."
We purchased a new notebook computer, a Dell Inspiron 1000– for the family, my father reasoned, though I'll be the primary user of it as I take it off to school with me. At a little under $900, its processor speed is more than twice as fast as my four year old computer's. So much more enjoyable is riding the wave of technology than ending up stuck in the trough. It's not a replacement for my desktop, but a decent computer I can take into my apartment, as well as essentially anywhere I choose. It'll probably be a convenient tool to take to classes where heavy note-taking may be required, and certainly to the library, where I may want to set aside a few hours for studying before exams. I'm sure it would do well at Borders as well, when I wish to do research in a little more enjoyable place. I can leave this big, clunky computer desk and desktop here, and take advantage of something much more sleek and portable. The current moving out date is August 22. Seeing as I'm only moving to the opposite coast, I needn't take too many possessions with me. Ideally, I'll have my computer and high-speed Internet soon after I get there, but I've learned not to expect too much. I'm not dependent on technology to get me by, thankfully. In high school, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm entirely excited about starting my new semester.
Hm... in just a few minutes, my father and I are going to make the hour and ten minute drive up to the Mauna Kea Visitor Center. At approximately 9,000 feet elevation or so, and far, far away from any lights at all, it's a great place to view the sky. Professional and amateur astronomers alike are going to have colossal telescopes set up all over the place, and there's going to be plenty of free hot chocolate. The August meteor shower is truly a sight to behold in a place like this... I wandered off into the pasture behind the house last night and laid back against the grass, and witnessed maybe 50 meteors in a matter of twenty minutes. Some left brilliant trails of light which only completely faded away after several seconds. B-e-a-utiful. So, this little excursion should be fun, even though we may not make it back home until 6 or 7 in the morning, or later. I don't have to be anywhere tomorrow, so all is well. I should enjoy the remainder of my vacation while it's still here.
The cool, damp, grey uplifting majesty of a rainy day...
North cliffs on a stormy day...
Scenic Bike Ride 1...
Scenic Bike Ride 2...
And now, a nice list of songs I've been enjoying immensely lately (needless to say, I recommend all of them):
"On Top of the World" - Gouryella
"Popcorn" - Kraftwerk
"Feel For You" - The Mystery
"Never Never Land" - Infected Mushroom
"Satellite" - Oceanlab
"Cancer" - Filter
"Great Southern Land" - Icehouse
"Our Future" - Deep Forest
"Blue Monday" - New Order
"Ballroom Blitz" - Wayne's World Version
"Origami Moon" - Origins
"Life is Too Short" - Kai Tracid
"Nothing Left" - Orbital
"Everything's Not Lost" - Coldplay
"Big Mouth Strikes Again" - Chumbawamba
"Pop Star Kidnap" - Chumbawamba
"If it is to be, it is up to me" - Chumbawamba
"1969" - Boards of Canada
"La Femme d'Argent" - Air
"Talisman" - Air
"Still Fighting It" - Ben Folds Five
"Run" - Collective Soul
"Erase and Rewind" - The Cardigans
"All Day" - Ministry
"Natural" - DJ Jean Djaxx
"Extreme Ways" - Moby
"Rushing" - Moby
"Era (Nostalgia Mix)" - TaQ
"Wavy Gravy" - DJ Sasha
I could go on and on, but due to time constraints, I'll move ahead to further action.
I finally got around to downloading Mozilla Firefox V. 0.9, and almost immediately after using it for the first time, I concluded that Internet Explorer had better start watching its back. Not only does this browser contain a built-in pop-up blocker, an extension can be downloaded which also prevents the user from ever seeing many other types of annoying advertising, such as kangaroos hopping across the screen and other such jive. Another extension allows the user to navigate using "mouse gestures." I have it set so that drawing an imaginary "0" with my mouse while holding down the right-click button takes me back to Google.com. It's a lazy, but efficient method of browsing. Being able to edit CSS in real time is another terrific feature, as is Spiderzilla, which allows me to download entire websites and all their content at once. And I just can't rave enough about how nice it is to view multiple websites in the same browser window. I imagine this browser will become quite mainstream once the first non-beta version is released... it might very well replace Explorer as -the- browser of choice. Knowing Microsoft, though, it'll probably try to outdo Mozilla by imitating them in nearly every department.
I've been spending an hour or two a day playing Starfox Adventures for Game Cube, and I must tell you, it's magnificent. It's difficult for me to get into many modern day games, as most of them unbearably boring to me, but SA is certainly an exception. I find myself strangely drawn to some of the characters, namely the male fox aptly named Fox (whom I currently control), and the female fox named Krystal. To simply navigate this handsome, adorable furry around is a pleasure in itself, but the realms we explore... my goodness, they are nothing short of breathtaking. The streams, waterfalls, trees, mountains, animals, and dinosaurs are all so perfectly rendered they almost look real. I spend much of my time just wandering around admiring the visuals, imagining I'm lost in this majestic world. I truly do feel captivated by it more times than not. The sun regularly rises and sets, leaving me free to wander about the night and gaze up at the stars until dawn reawakens. Then, there's the unexpected cloudbursts... sudden rainstorms sweep over the realm, and to gaze up at the lightning show is nothing short of spectacular. This game is more than a game for me, really... it's a separate world I can escape to. It inspires my imagination more than any video game has in a long, long time. And I'm told I have yet to get to best parts of the game... ahhh.
I watched [i]Who Wants to be a Millionaire?[/i] the other day, the first time since arriving back home, and I was reminded of something I've always found perplexing. How is it that when a contestant in the hot seat uses his or her 'phone a friend' lifeline, their friend/relative always answers on the first ring? How many people are likely to pick up on the first ring, or even be available? I wish the scant few I try to get ahold of by telephone would always pick up on the first ring. With Millionaire, it always works so flawlessly. Well, I suppose it should. Imagine Regis or what's-her-name sitting around staring at the contestant while the phone continues to ring for a few minutes... that would place an awful lot of pressure on the contestant, certainly, and qualify as empty air time. "Pick up, damn you!" Obviously, it's all pre-arranged, which makes me wonder about the entire show. I can most easily deduce that they don't actually call anyone at all, and "their friends at AT&T" probably connect to someone backstage hired to be that contestant's "friend." You just can't expect me to believe that every contestant always reaches some random friend of theirs on the very first ring. Of course, there's reality TV, which is an oxymoron if I ever heard one. There is reality, and there is television, but there is no reality television. Anything can happen in reality; the conditions are not controlled in any shape or form, whereas television is staged. They wouldn't let anyone on Survivor starve to death or die of dysentery. In reality, people don't follow you around everywhere with microphones and cameras or vote you off the island because you came in last place on the beach bamboo-jabbing competition. That's why reality television is something I will probably never come to appreciate. It's nearly as phony as a movie on the Sci-Fi channel, and it has the nerve to label itself "reality programming."
We purchased a new notebook computer, a Dell Inspiron 1000– for the family, my father reasoned, though I'll be the primary user of it as I take it off to school with me. At a little under $900, its processor speed is more than twice as fast as my four year old computer's. So much more enjoyable is riding the wave of technology than ending up stuck in the trough. It's not a replacement for my desktop, but a decent computer I can take into my apartment, as well as essentially anywhere I choose. It'll probably be a convenient tool to take to classes where heavy note-taking may be required, and certainly to the library, where I may want to set aside a few hours for studying before exams. I'm sure it would do well at Borders as well, when I wish to do research in a little more enjoyable place. I can leave this big, clunky computer desk and desktop here, and take advantage of something much more sleek and portable. The current moving out date is August 22. Seeing as I'm only moving to the opposite coast, I needn't take too many possessions with me. Ideally, I'll have my computer and high-speed Internet soon after I get there, but I've learned not to expect too much. I'm not dependent on technology to get me by, thankfully. In high school, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm entirely excited about starting my new semester.
Hm... in just a few minutes, my father and I are going to make the hour and ten minute drive up to the Mauna Kea Visitor Center. At approximately 9,000 feet elevation or so, and far, far away from any lights at all, it's a great place to view the sky. Professional and amateur astronomers alike are going to have colossal telescopes set up all over the place, and there's going to be plenty of free hot chocolate. The August meteor shower is truly a sight to behold in a place like this... I wandered off into the pasture behind the house last night and laid back against the grass, and witnessed maybe 50 meteors in a matter of twenty minutes. Some left brilliant trails of light which only completely faded away after several seconds. B-e-a-utiful. So, this little excursion should be fun, even though we may not make it back home until 6 or 7 in the morning, or later. I don't have to be anywhere tomorrow, so all is well. I should enjoy the remainder of my vacation while it's still here.
Aug 6, 2004
Sorry, computer, you'll have to sleep outside tonight
Peculiar how things work sometimes. I just today received notification from my realtor that the apartment owner does not allow desktop computers in his places. Laptop computers are okay, desktop computers are not. Curious as I am, something tells me I don't even want to know the reason why. It all smells like a big steamy pile to me, especially since they'd wait this long to notify me of such an absurd restriction. This is just after they told me I'd have to move downstairs due to a "cracked toilet." As far as this apartment I've had my sights set on is concerned, all signs point to N-O. Coincidentally, my mother's boss at the restaurant, aware of my quest for a domicile, informed her that she was renting houses just a mile or two out of town, and that one of the tenants was leaving. No word on how much it would cost per month yet, but having my own house seems appealing to me. Maybe the odds are going to end up completely in my favor– from a slimy, flooded basement of a nut house to the junky rear of an antique shop on a busy street to an adequate upstairs studio apartment where desktop computers aren't allowed to a house in the hills. Maybe not. What remains true either way is that it's nice to have connections ... and fascinating to sit back and analyze the ways karma and chance are connected. The best I can do is proceed with the attitude that what is meant to happen will happen. Maybe I won't even make it into school this semester, and maybe that will be for the better. I'm definitely looking forward to my courses, though.
I don't feel like typing much else, but I've been burning a lot of incense lately, ever since I discovered the wicca store (I'm telling you, this region gets stranger and stranger) down the hill which sells 75 different varieties of it (vanilla moonlight is my favorite), and I want this. "Satellite" by Oceanlab is a deeply meaningful and delightful morsel of euphony I can dance to beneath my strobe light, and I need a microwave. Oh, and one more thing: elves are overrated, and I want to send a throwing knife straight through Legolas's jugular.
WITH THE POWER OF THE STEEL!
I don't feel like typing much else, but I've been burning a lot of incense lately, ever since I discovered the wicca store (I'm telling you, this region gets stranger and stranger) down the hill which sells 75 different varieties of it (vanilla moonlight is my favorite), and I want this. "Satellite" by Oceanlab is a deeply meaningful and delightful morsel of euphony I can dance to beneath my strobe light, and I need a microwave. Oh, and one more thing: elves are overrated, and I want to send a throwing knife straight through Legolas's jugular.
WITH THE POWER OF THE STEEL!
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