A Window
personal musingsI’m going to get a fish tank.
Potential names for fish (I think I’ll get four): TopangaStalin
Kobayashi/Maru
Stroke Mouth Ventilatte (Just kidding… too mean?)
Abe Sapien
Dave Grohl
GQMF
Crazy Maus
King of the Lab
Lens Flare
Dewski
The Great Perhaps
Palindrome
Warren G. Harding (JUST KIDDING. F THAT.)
Megapixel
Mr. Muggles
JJ Abrams Sackboy Little Richie Talapia Red Shirt Gamut Little Big Fishie Captain VonTrapp Opinions?
Under the stairs…
…this still remains one of my favorite places on campus, despite the fact that I’m not sitting against a wall. I always have this feeling that someone will be walking up behind me and just reading what I type while I’m none the wiser. Oh well. Paranoia aside, I’m feeling the need to update here because I’ve started to update my twitter like eight times today and I’ve only been awake for three hours.
So a few days ago I was following the hijinks that was indeed ensuing when Joel Watson (creator of the single best webcomic ever, Hijinks Ensue … see what I did there?) had the hard drive in his Pro crash. Tweet after tweet was popping up about it and his followers tried to assist him in saving files. His last backup was 2 weeks ago, and he thusly lost the .psds and print quality .jpgs of six comics. The blog he wrote after salvaging some data from the drive (in the freezer… apparently that works?) ended with the following message:
YOUR HARD DRIVE IS GOING TO DIE WITHOUT WARNING! THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP IT! YOU CAN ONLY BE PREPARED WHEN IT HAPPENS! BACK ALL YOUR SHIT UP OR YOU WILL LOSE IT!
I became terrified. You all know me well–I stress that I “only” have a combined internal/external 500GB of storage. I’d like to have three drives capable of each holding all of my stuff, but one of them is just too small and I like to generally keep at least 30gb free on my laptop. Anyway, I made the decision to format my 60gig (Blue Sun. The light glows blue. I’m not very creative with drive-naming.) considering most of the data was on my big drive anyway. I proceed to divide all the data on my 320 between my laptop (The Detective) and Blue Sun. I’d then partition my big drive, use one volume for general storage and enable Time Machine with the other volume. This means that while that process was occurring, I’d only have one copy of each of my files, respectively. This thought terrified me. It was 2am, but I HAD TO DO IT NOW. I locked the cat in the bathroom so she wouldn’t touch wires and make something explode. Took a shower and cleaned to distract myself while everything was moved and pretended to study for a while and everything was fine. Eventually I stressed for five minutes after assigning volume sizes before pressing the “format and apply” button. Four-ish hours later, when I’d finally fallen asleep, TimeMachine had made a complete copy of my OS and drive… but I had to go to class and had no time to move anything back from Blue Sun, which contains almost EVERY.MUSIC.FILE. I have. They’re the only ones without a backup at this point, and I’m fairly scared. All I can think about is going to English at noon and running home to copy them back to the big drive before I go meet TS to demonstrate parallel parking.
Through all this, I learned two or three things about myself:
- I’m insanely paranoid about data loss.
- I’m CRAZY dependent on my laptop and should invest in a real boyfriend instead.
I’ll elaborate: As I got into bed trying to sleep while TimeMachine did it’s thing, I was insanely bored. I couldn’t browse the interwebs until my eyelids got droopy like usual. I couldn’t catch up on The Office or Clone High, which was what I’d originally planned for the night. Everyone was asleep like normal people so I had no one to talk to. Poopie was asleep. I was screwed. I put in a disc of How I Met Your Mother and still didn’t get sleepy. Counted my cameras, didn’t get sleepy. I finally got comfortable and fell asleep by just before 4. I woke up in the middle of the morning sometime and spazzed when it wasn’t on the other pillow or my side table. Usually I’d realize something like this and formulate some kind of digital rehab in my head, but I’m intelligent enough to acknowledge when something cannot be fixed; that would be like asking me to go without caffeine for a week–I’d be a walking headache and you all would hate me.
So now I sit on campus, so hyped up on said caffeine that I felt the need to tell you all that story. Mainly, when I split that drive I had to rename it… it never had a name. I decided I’d temporarily name them Marco and Polo, but then changed my mind to Sonny and Cher. If you read this, you should think about something appropriate for me to name the twin volumes because they will not “Got You Babe” forever, as it will eventually get on my nerves. (*Sidebar: I will not accept “Colbert” as a a name after the NASA incident. Though using Colbert and Stewart would be funny.)
Also, as everything was unfolding, I heard my mail alert go off. I put down the Astronomy book that I wasn’t reading only to open Mail and find a message from an old friend, sent via Livejournal. This is odd enough, considering my LJ updates are still fairly regular, but protected on a person-to-person basis and she can’t see most of my updates. Regardless, considering she was my best friend four-ish years ago and then we just lost contact, I was surprised to hear from her. Between looking at old photos during transfer and getting that message from her, I felt like I was in some sort of twilight zone timesuck. The message was oddly honest, and she apologized for being a creeper and “spying” on my current life, which I found humorous rather than creepy. I might meet her for coffee on Tuesday so we’ll see how that goes.
I’m about to actually “do” my English final, which simply consists of tweaking my Wiki article and adding a user page to my wikipedia account to meet word requirements. Then I’m gonna go to said English class, go meet TS for driving and lunch before seeing how the rest of the day unfolds.
I’m gonna finish drinking my latte and bite to eat now. Earlier I stood in line at Starbucks, Red Bull in hand. I got a strange look, and I suspect my existent beverage was the cause. I was so sleepy after last night’s events that I decided quick-draw caffeine was necessary, and dual-wielding was the best way to achieve it.
Time to focus on something else; I’m going to catch up on podcasts and hope no one thinks I’m strange for laughing out loud by myself. I guess there are worse things to be considered “strange” for, though. 
Jesus is happy
I’m not as happy as Jesus is when he plays hockey, because it’s time for class. I’m not a big fan of this particular class, or this particular university. But it’s Thursday, so lets get rocking.
Starbucks fail; a revisit
Not everyone is a Starbucks fan; some go small coffeehouses and others just stick to Dr. Pepper or Dew or Coke. Many people think that being a Starbucks addict is similar to being an Apple computer ass-kisser, and I can see how the two can relate. I’m fine grabbing coffee from that little kiosk in the library and using their Dells to print whatever I need, but it comes down to this: a good iced latte from Starbucks and my own Macbook are two of the great loves of my life. In many cases, no one does it better. That being said, most big chains and corporations like these are not without flaw. With Apple, I call the weak spot the Macbook Air (be realistic; it’s stupid). At Starbucks, my nitpick references the lagging “name on the cup” system. It holds room for too much unnecessary error; I understand it could be beneficial in the big urban locations, but DEAR GOD just use numbers like every other restaruant or cafe.
So anyways, the following was originally posted in my personal journal on November 19 of last year in reference to the number of times our tiny campus Starbucks went and done me wrong.
“You know what fails a lot? Starbucks.
I mean, don’t get me wrong… they’re generally delicious.
HOWEVER. They fail. I was going to postpone this post until the official end of the semester, but they pretty much know my name now so I hopefully will get no more fail. Anyway, enough rambling… on to the evidence:
Alexi
Ah… the first picture stems from one special occasion and happens to be my favorite example of Starbucks being full of fail. This is the result of the cashier singsonging, “Venti nonfat iced latte with toffee nut fooooooooorrrrr…” and then flinging his winglike arms out toward me expectantly as though we were on Broadway finishing a song and dance number. I thought about singing back at him with jazzhands, but my brain didn’t work as fast as my mouth, as it was stunned by the apparent retardation. My response? ”Uh… Lexi?”
Uh Lexi.
UhLexi.
ALEXI.
HA! I WIN. This is my stage name should I ever happen upon a profession that pays for my awesome jazzhands.
Example Numero 2:
Lacey
This is another one of my favorites, for one special reason. Now, I know with all the blenderizing and bean smashing and syrup pumping going on, its occasionally hard to hear behind that counter. Also, if you say it fast, “Lexi” kind of sounds like “Lacey” anyways. This is still full of fail, however, because after she said “Venti non fat iced latte with toffee nut for Lacey” and I finished inwardly groaning about how I would SO be blogging about this, I handed her my card. Now the card is the best part, because in response to it she said, “Aww… Alexa. You have a cute name.”
GAH. I know she might have assumed I was named Alexa and gathering coffee for a Lacey, but when she and the dancing man are the cashiers I visited the most that semester, I figured they’d get it right. They memorized the drink, not the name.
FAIL.
Examples three and four require no explanation, its just me being picky:
“Lexie
Lexy
So anyway, that last one, “Lexy” was what was handed to me today. You know, there are only so many ways to misspell or misunderstand “order number thirty four.” I’m just sayin’. It’s not like my current favorite order (“double venti iced nonfat cafe con leche with no sugar hazelnut”) doesn’t contain enough words for them to forget already; lets add names to the mix.
Starbucks, you suck so bad. Why do I love you so? Run off with the Macbook Air and have shitty, lightweight, over caffeinated babies already.
“It was so great! It couldn’t last! And it didn’t!” ~ John Green (by accident)
Between watching the genius that is Joss Whedon once again (plugging Dollhouse, here) and having an incessant compulsion to watch all special features on DvDs, I wish I was an English/Creative Writing major instead.
I get this feeling once or twice a week, but it’s just a thought.
I’m going to drop out and be a foley artist. It’s not like any of the classes I’ve registered for in the Fall are relevant to my track, anyways.
I’m fairly sad that my blog hasn’t seen much action lately, but I’m about to hit up some different layouts/widgets to update the appearance a bit. Looking forward to some shopping and Krista’s birthday tomorrow, and our “February Birthday Dinner™” on Sunday if that is still in the cards. Now, I’m just wishing for the desire to sleep.
I need inspiration
And I need it bad.
I started thinking the other day about how long it’d been since I developed any photos. Beginning of January, it seems. Sure, I thought I’d put film on the backburner for a while and break out the digital again, but my Sony has seen even less action 
. I jokingly set my Facebook status the other day begging people to let me use them so I could take more portraits, and I suprisingly got a few hits. In actuality, I’d like to focus on all my friends and family so I could have one good picture of each person I care about, no matter how little I see them or how close we are. I’d love to have a series to hang in my new apartment in the fall along with the movie posters I seem to have purchased. I’m going to start with the more willing (Apryle, Nikki, probably Krista, maybe Mary) who aren’t too camera shy and see if I can take it anywhere. *crosses fingers*
Speaking of, I need to find a place to live… and by that I mean I need to finish my essays for GW and see if I’ll even still be in the state come August. I’m pretty possitive I’ll apply and (IF I get accepted) defer my acceptance until what is officially my “junior” year. I can’t stomach the idea of going from living on my own to living in a dorm in a city I’m still not 100% used to. It will be a giant change either way, but being forced to sleep each night in the same room as people I do not know will make it no less awkward.
It seems my apartment choices are left up to Eagle Villa Suites (smelled like eggs) or the Varsity (I’ve heard horror stories) because those are the only affordable one bedrooms. I’d lose my mind in a studio and have too much furniture. Without a job I have not even a chance at affording a 2 bedroom by myself. I could try to find a room mate that I know that I’m not as close to as I am Nikki and Apryle… someone I could easily get along with but who I don’t already spend so much time with that I feel our present relationship would be compromised. Still, easier said than done.
I need to find something to cling to right now; have you ever been in a situation where everything was looking so mediocre that you find something, anything… the most inane thing, actually… to clutch really tight to your chest for dear life? Well either way, I do that all the time, and I realized all to quickly that each of those things were crap. They don’t have value or substance and don’t deserve all of my brainpower.
Right now I’m swiftly focusing on getting as healthy as I possibly can. I figure that’s probably the best possible “vice” to have, if it could be called such. Alana has found a surefire way to keep me from over exercising, so I know I wont turn into a creepy obsessed lady. Still, I have an empty feeling that I know is the result of so much loss lately, in every sense of the word. When I feel so down like this, though, I’ve come to identify this feeling as one not of emptiness, but rather a sign that a well of good energy is brewing inside me, waiting to be tapped. I certainly hope this is the case and I wont be eating my words in a few months.
Yesterday’s writing prompt.
January 26 — “Dream Solution”
Your character has a nightmare. But in the middle of it, he or she creatively solves the problem.
As he effortlessly makes his way down the staircase, his feet seem to be driving him toward a new dimension. With each step he feels smaller yet heavier still, and his feet begin to sink into the raw wood. The smooth banister becomes covered with spines so he jerks his hand away as though reacting to a hot stove top. He concentrates on his feet, trying to make it to the bottom. Suddenly it seems like he’ll be getting there even faster; the steps have opened and come together to form a ramp. He’s thrown into darkness, sliding more rapidly with each passing second. He reaches for something, anything that could help save him from the promise of many broken bones upon reaching the ground. His hand manages to find a curtain waving from a floor-to-ceiling window, and he clings to it for support. Through this window he can see nothing but his own reflection; it’s just a mirror with panes. He hears a rip.rip.rip while the curtain tears and he must think fast. As the other end floats down toward him, he grabs it in his other sweaty, nervous hand and directs his own motion, gliding to a halt only as he see’s his final destination. His feet are glad to feel land; he doesn’t sink in.
“Permutation”
January 25 – “Permutation”
This is what I call a “permutation exercise”: Take a particularly vivid and rhythmic sentence or two from someone else’s book or story, and then exchange the verbs and/or adjectives and/or adverbs and/or whatever to make it your own.
From Paper Towns:
“…you could not say that Margo Roth Spiegelman was fat, or that she was skinny, any more than you can say that the Eiffel Tower is or is not lonely.”
You could not say that he was pleased, or that he was sad, any more than you can say that the Earth is or is not happy to be walked on.
From Anthem:
“My dearest one, it is not proper for men to be without names. There was a time when each man had a name of his own to distinguish him from all other men. So let us choose our names.”
My troubled friend, it is not responsible for men to be without laughter. There was a day when each man had a smile of his very own to separate him from all other men. So let us choose our happiness.
Daily writing exercises…
I was hoping to get one of the books on my Amazon Christmas list, but I didn’t feel like spending the money on one right now; instead, I consulted the web, like you do. Actually Felicia Day’s blog led me to these, and they look interesting. I had briefly forgotten that this was my New Years blog intention, so I’m glad I stumbled upon it (not like… literally stumbling upon… you know what I mean). I meant to start January 1st, but couldn’t find good prompts and am thusly behind. So, for the month of January I’m either going to do the prompt written on the corresponding day or one from a previous January day that I’d missed. Starting in February, I’m going to legitimately do the corresponding prompt. If any of you keep a blog (which, I’m guessing, is only Alana [-: ) I encourage you to try these as well. Without further adieu, here are the January prompts.
I’m gonna go pick one, write it up, and then… go home, I suppose. Maybe sleep. Mmmm sleep.
and she says, “I like long walks and sci-fi movies”
I had a good day today; aced an astronomy quiz I never read for and got out of every class early. But after outings about town, I come home and want to stare at the blog. I find my mind wandering more and more lately, as though it has nothing to actually focus on. Which is fine, I like my imagination. But when day dreams are the only thing that cheer me up and I start humming songs that I don’t remember knowing, it gets slightly creepy.
On a happy note, I love historical humor. The guest on The Colbert Report just said that “nullification” was a sexy word and that Andrew Jackson would have loved Youtube. My brain is now wandering again, but back to the point–my opinion of this semester so far is decidedly hazy. Classes seem breezy and I have little breaks between some classes, so it’s much less stressful. I just think that feeling of not being particularly happy is much more haunting than a legitimate feeling of depression. At least one way or the other I’d be able to grab an absolute. I know that “only a sith deals in absolutes,” so I guess I’ll keep myself open for new things.
I feel like I’m trying to fill a void when I can’t even pinpoint why there’s a void present. I find myself liking things that I don’t have and missing friends that aren’t even mine. Time to keep floating along, singing something new each day I suppose.
If you think about it, take a listen to:
Fake Palindromes by Andrew Bird
and she says, “I like long walks and sci-fi movies if you’re six foot tall and east coast bred…”
