“As a man I ain’t never been much for sunny days… I’m as calm as a fruit stand in New York and maybe as strange… But when the color goes out of my eyes it’s usually the change… But damn, Sam, I love a woman that rains…” — Ryan Adams, “Damn Sam (I Love A Woman That Rains)”
This page will be redesigned. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. Okay, maybe tomorrow. So, I’m just warning you to be prepared. You may be asking yourself, “Is nothing sacred?” Nope, nope, ‘fraid not.
random snippets overheard on NPR
Man with super-intellectual accent: “I think there’s a wonderful, underrated film called Office Space that deals with cubicle culture and office parks.”
Super-enthusiastic caller: “Teenage suicide was virtually unheard of until the suburbs.”
uplifting quotes from my boss
“A smart person going to a hard school is much more difficult than a smart person going to an easy school. Yet the desire for slacking remains the same.” — Chris
“Remember, it’s only two days till Monday.” — Chris
How a global media affects society: “We carry around the mental residue of millions of suffering human beings for whom we’ve done nothing.” (in NYTimes)
“I should go to therapy, yo. I’m crazy.” — Eliina
Saw my friend Spencer perform tonight at a Northwestern music festival. I love being inspired by my talented friends. In other news, I went to therapy again today, and told the counselor I was skeptical about the whole “therapy thing”. The woman said she appreciated my honesty. That would only help her *help me* better. I think I’d be more comfortable with it if she didn’t look so intensely thoughtful while I was talking. I’d like a therapist with a healthy sense of humor.
When things are going well, it’s hard to find excuses to be your same old, mopey, do-nothing self.
sir? we know.
I feel bad for elderly professors. They’re toughing it out in a classroom of disrespectful youngsters. Lars, wherever you are, I’m sorry we threw soft kiwi out the window during your class. You’re very old, and you probably didn’t deserve that grief. Today though, my poli sci professor did deserve… something. He repeated the lecture he gave on Tuesday. And it was supposed to be a suspense-filled lecture, too, about the fate of some Native Americans when the U.S. government installed a dam that flooded their farmland. So here is my dear elderly professor, trying to make this story exciting. And here is the class. Too bored to care. Too sleepy to absorb any new information. So we let the man go on.
hey. that’s *my* black hole.
When I go home, I feel like the place is some kind of black hole. No one goes in, no one comes out. So when I see random references to Western New York, it’s weird. It’s like someone saying they just saw my *bedroom* or something. Mark just returned from there. And this man has taken a picture of my neighborhood Starbucks. This place is five minutes from my house. Sarah and I used to skip classes and come back with Frappucinos. It’s still where all the high school kids go (or just say they’re going there, before they go drink in someone’s basement instead).
Yami just had some deep-fried crazy for dinner. I’m making dinner for my roommates on Sunday. Anyone up for a deep-fried duck or two?
Macromedia Flash is a weird program. It’s awful complicated and doesn’t seem to add anything useful to web pages. Generally Flash-powered pages just make people sit around gritting their teeth while waiting for some cute little icon to dance across their screen. So how on earth did this program, which should be flush with potential, become the seemingly useless thing it is today? Here’s how. It all started with a guy. And some Legos. (via GirlHacker)
This week’s been time to pay the bills around here… phone, gas, electric, cable modem… the works. It’s not fun, splitting up charges and prodding each other for money owed, but it’s usually okay. At least it’s not like this: “If you want the light on, you’ll have to pay for it. I’m happy in the dark, man…”
Never be caught at the coffee house without a precise definition of “post-modernism”. Don’t leave home without your theory trading cards.
A Brown University newspaper column about emotion in the classroom.