Disassociation

Tuesday, 30 July 2002

i don’t as­so­ciate my­self with my body or my name. my en­ti­ty is con­tent to de­fine it­self mere­ly as psy­che. per­haps that is why i on­ly take care of my ap­pearence when so­ci­ety de­mands i do so. why i shave on­ce a week, in­stead of not at all. why i have mul­ti­ple changes of cloth­ing in­stead of just a few. an­swer­ing to my name is just pavlo­vian re­spon­se, and body lan­guage and small talk cour­te­sies mere­ly mus­cle mem­o­ry guid­ed by my ego in­to what i hope is a non­threat­en­ing ap­pearence. it gives me time to think.

i am in­ter­nal. too much so most like­ly. but my mind is the on­ly thing that can hold my at­ten­tion for more than one mom…look at the pur­ty lights!

Renshai Chronicles

Monday, 29 July 2002

af­ter a sum­mer filled with read­ing works con­sid­ered to be fine pieces of lit­er­a­ture, my re­turn to the books i have en­joyed the most, fan­ta­sy nov­els, is bit­ter­sweet. i rel­ish the sto­ries for their en­ter­tain­ment val­ue, but now they are start­ing to seem a little…juvenile. per­haps this is just due to the books i am read­ing cur­rent­ly, The Renshai Chronicles, by Mickey Zucker Reichert. i have not read any­thing by this au­thor be­fore so per­haps it is just the li­cense she takes with Norse mythol­o­gy in com­bi­na­tion with her vague­ly Dungeons and Dragons sto­ry­li­nes (i’ve nev­er en­joyed that type of fan­ta­sy). The char­ac­ters are all teenagers and be­have ex­act­ly like teens in re­gard to af­fairs of the heart, but when it comes to mak­ing emo­tion­al de­ci­sions they are ra­tio­nal as a sophist. it is un­nerv­ing, es­pe­cial­ly since they are all sa­vants and ex­cel in their re­spec­tive ‘job class’ to bor­row a phrase from D&D, of­ten ri­val­ing those with decades or cen­turies more ex­pe­ri­ence. it would be a good sto­ry if it weren’t so ob­vi­ous­ly con­trived. I do not be­lieve this re­vul­sion will trans­fer to works of gen­uine cre­ative fan­ta­sy that of­fers philo­soph­i­cal and moral dilem­mas, (LotR, The Recluce Series) or those which of­fer more than just swords and sor­cery (The Wheel of Time, any­thing by Patricia McKillip). I am just tired of cook­iecut­ter fan­ta­sy trilo­gies. i need some­thing new.

Stubborn Son of a Bitch

Sunday, 28 July 2002

its in my blood to be a stub­born son of a bitch. i hate it when peo­ple tell me that i have to do some­thing. my im­me­di­ate re­spon­se is the chal­lenge their or­der with a ques­tion. Why do i have to do it? Huh? Answer me! how­ev­er, us­ing a dif­fer­ent word will of­ten slip by me. ‘Adam, you might want to think about do­ing blah­blah­blah…’ or ‘Wouldn’t this be a bet­ter al­ter­na­tive?’ If you use the word have i will balk on prin­ci­ple. i do not like it when peo­ple be­lieve they can dic­tate terms up­on me. i am the on­ly per­son that can be in charge of my per­son. as long as i am lu­cid i have the com­plete free­dom that life pro­vides.

Farmer’s Weather Complex™

Saturday, 27 July 2002

i’ve al­most got the CSS ver­sion of my page fin­ished. i was al­most giv­ing my­self and aneurysm try­ing to fig­ure it out for the past few days but it all clicked yes­ter­day es­pe­cial­ly af­ter a lit­tle help from this place. now all i need to do is get move­able­type in­stalled cor­rect­ly on my web­space and learn to use it then i’ll be stream­lined and ready to roll.

we’ve need­ed rain bad­ly for sev­er­al weeks and we fi­nal­ly got it. al­though i am not a farmer, liv­ing in a farm­ing com­mu­ni­ty has made me aware of the weath­er and in do­ing so i have de­vel­oped the Farmer’s Weather Complex™. there is al­ways ei­ther too much rain or not enough rain. this sum­mer has been a dry one but hope­ful­ly this rain will do the crops some good. it is al­so fair time around here which means next week i am go­ing to get an ele­phant ear and (if my braces are off) a can­died ap­ple. mm­mm got­ta love the fair.

CSS is COOL

Friday, 26 July 2002

CSS is cool!

i love it but i hate it.

just got back from the mall. wtf is up with the cheapo pic­ture tak­ing things?? they suck now. they aren’t cheap and they on­ly spit out one pho­to. re­mem­ber how they used to spit out a strip of 4 dif­fer­ent shots so you could have a lit­tle fun and make faces at it? no longer. 4 bucks for 1 shot, you fuck up, your through. what a bitch. of course, i fucked it up, didn’t take off my glass­es and got a lens­flare. i bare­ly de­cid­ed on spend­ing 4 buck on what i thought were go­ing to be 4 pho­tos but to find out its 4 bucks for one fuck­ing pic­ture. man. re­mem­ber when lit­tle caesar’s had that 4bucks 4bucks piz­za deal? now that was good shit. 4 dol­lars for a piz­za. hell yeah. but now i have to pay 4 bucks to get one shit­ty pic­ture from the stu­pid booth in the mall.

Aftermath

Thursday, 25 July 2002

well she had fun, but not un­til her ‘broth­er’ and my good friend bri­an showed up from Cleveland. she didn’t yarf, but she did go to the re­stroom about 70 bil­lion times. we ate at the Mishawaka Brewing Company, which was ex­cel­lent as al­ways. Great Irish Meat Pies. then we left to go to the bars, but lo and be­hold i had a flat tire. so every­one else took off and i put on the donut and fol­lowed. as an aside, this is about the 6th time i’ve had a flat tire with this car. i at­trib­ute this oc­curence to the fact that there are mas­sive amounts of con­struc­tion go­ing on around cam­pus. any­way, we then went to Cheers the town­ie bar where we lis­tened to a bad red hot chili pep­per wannabe band and an even worse tree­hug­gin phishlov­in hip­pie knock­off who couldn’t car­ry a tune with a wheel­bar­row and who butchered Ramble On and Tangerine. fuck­er. we left as his fe­male coun­ter­part be­gan singing Blackhole Sun à la Jessica Simpson. Then we went to Corby’s. The Corporate Alumni bar. where the on­ly wa­ter avail­able is bot­tled and the bar­tender is HOT as a tub full of boiled cray­fish (i have no idea where that came from). any­way she got blast­ed on­ce bri­an showed up and she start­ed laugh­ing and smil­ing too. so we closed Corby’s, got her back to her dorm and then i went to sleep around 3:30 to get up and work at 8. it was worth it.

Meagan’s 21st

Wednesday, 24 July 2002

to­day is my friend Meagan’s 21st birth­day. she is not a drinker at all. in fact, i think she can count the times she has had a drink on one hand. but not af­ter tonight. i am skip­ping my work shift tonight to take her out with some friends and get her wast­ed as hell. drunk as a skunk. ladies and gen­tle­men, she will be yarf­ing be­fore this night is over. the great thing about this is that a 21st birth­day ef­fec­tive­ly gives the friends of the per­son born li­cense to make that per­son ill be­yond be­lief in a hap­py en­gag­ing man­ner. i yarfed on my 21st, it was fun. Phil yarfed in my car on his 21st, it was fun. Meagan will yarf on her 21st and it will be fun. who knew yarf­ing could be so much fun?