out for the count

 

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Wednesday, October 30, 2002

 
I'm not sure I understand either.

Luizia: No, it's like smurf-nut blue.
Lindsey: Smurf-nut blue? As in smurf-TESTICLE blue?
Luizia: Yeah, exactly. And it has two white stripes through it.
Lindsey: Umm...wait a second. Let's go back to this "smurf-nut" blue idea. Assuming that smurfs have testicles, how would you know what color they are? I mean, they always have their little white pants on. And what if they have tan lines or something? What if the only parts of them that are blue are the parts the sun hits and the rest of them is grey?
Luizia: Lindsey, do you really spend time thinking about things like this?
Lindsey: Man, you say that like it's a bad thing...

Tuesday, October 29, 2002

 
and I have the sense to recognize, but I don't know how to let you go...

I'm sure this will be one of those times when I write something only to look back upon it and frown at my naivity. Regardless, I've been wondering constantly about Stephen and Heather. How did two people that were so immensely important in my life fade away like that? More importantly, how do I make things go back to the way they used to be. I guess shit simply doesn't work like that. Stephen used to tell me that we'd hear from eachother less and less until we didn't speak anymore, after which we'd even stop thinking about eachother. Shrugging that off as insanity, I went about my business as we all drifted further away from eachother. Now here I am, unable to picture Stephen's face or remember Heather's birthday. This frustration is intensified everytime I look at my little black phone that I don't use to call them or my little "write mail" button that I don't use to write them. Instead of typing this, I should be writing a letter. Man, I'm a horrible friend. I should come with a warning label.

Off to toss and turn...

Monday, October 28, 2002

 
Two of my friends are moving to Hawaii. Yesterday they weren't, today they are. Just like that, leaving this Sunday. Why can't it be this way with me? Someone give me one good reason why can't I wake up next Monday in Seattle. Oh yeah...money. Oh yeah...school. Yes, you're right...shelter and food. Thanks for talking me out of it. I barely dodged the bullet on that one.

I'm very bitter.

Sunday, October 27, 2002

 
Daylight savings cheated me out of my extra hour.

Will there never come a time in my life when I get past my excessive procrastination? How did I ever get like this in the first place? I always thought that eventually I'd get all my "ducks in a row." But this simply isn't the case...there's always that one misfit that doesn't want to follow the leader. This particular little duck leaves me reading 100 pages for literature, filling out 5 worksheets full of calculations for chemistry, and writing up my scematic for lab - all at 10:49PM on the night before they're due. The worst part is that instead of starting any of these tasks, here I am typing away. This must stop right now.

Quack, quack.

Saturday, October 26, 2002

 
Maybe it's just me.

Those fond of inquisition might ask "Lindsey, why do people get so frustrated when they get into political discussions with you?" And to them I would say "Mind your fucking business!" or "Because I am ridiculously, incredibly liberal." That's right, folks. And getting more "bleeding heart" with every day that passes. Last night was filled with an intense and quite heated (seven hour long!) conversation regarding issues from race to homosexuality, from religion to class. The level of intolerance of your average person is beyond me.

There's no way to justify the use of the word "nigger," intellegence is not a consequence of your skin color, a homeless person is STILL a person, homosexuality isn't a measure of your being...

Statistics from the monthly Return Peace Corps Volunteer of San Diego Newsletter:
If we could shrink the Earth's population to a village of precisely 100 people, with all existing human ratios remaining the same, it would look like this:

---> there would be 57 Asians, 21 Europeans, 14 from the western hemisphere (North and South), and 8 Africans.
---> 51 would be female, 49 male
---> 70 would be non-white, 30 white
---> 70 would be non-Christian, 30 Christian
---> 50% of the entire world's wealth would be in the hands of only 6 people and all 6 would be citizens of the USA
---> 80 would live in substandard housing
---> 70 would be unable to read
---> 50 would suffer from malnutrition
---> one would be near birth
---> one would be near death
---> only one would have a college education
---> only one would own a computer

When one considers our world from such an incredibly compressed perspective, the need for both tolerance and understanding becomes glaringly apparent.

Just a little food for thought. Eat up, junior.

Friday, October 25, 2002

 
I used to listen to N'SYNC when they were underground. Support your local scene.

If you live in Gainesville, FL and you don't know who Gunmol, The Pawn Rook Four, and The Know How are then you should be deeply ashamed of yourself.

And if you know what's good for you, you will check out Atmosphere. Listen to this. I promise, you won't be disappointed. (Nate would be oh-so-proud of me!)

Your aim sucks. Look past the barrel, not at it. And open BOTH eyes.

I don't know how I never realized this, but my sister has to be the best person on earth. I'm related to a goddess.







Thursday, October 24, 2002

 
I am the Jesus of cool. What more could you possibly want from me!

Earlier tonight, I went to the grocery store so that I could spend too much money buying junk food that I don't need. I decided that I'd get a new brand of toothpaste as a counterbalance. There I was, innocently debating what kind of toothpaste would add excitement to my daily life, when I was accosted by some youth group counselor. I know I look like your average church-going-god-fearing-Jesus-loving-kumbayah-singing citizen, but that's no reason why I should have to answer questions about my church attendance, Spanish Inquisition style. What would compel a person to strike up a conversation like that while shopping for their Listerine and dental floss? I suppose he felt the heavenly presence being near all those toothbrushes. Cleanliness is next to godliness, you know. Being the polite person I am, I smiled and nodded and tried to explain to him that I'm not the most religious of people. But like any ignorant ass trying to push his beliefs on others, he wouldn't leave me alone. Seriously, this guy followed me around the Kash-n-Karry. I finally told him, "If there was a God, she'd strike you down with a terribly painful death right here in the frozen foods aisle." Not one time did he look back as he walked away.

And now that I've started complaining, I'd like to address some mail I received from the Pro-life Educated Active Collegiate Effort of the University of Florida. This lame excuse of a club sent out about 34,000 pamphlets, one of which I received today. The pamphlet contained an inappropriate picture of an aborted fetus that was at about 30 weeks gestation. A little baby wrapped in a medical waste bag that was allegedly found in an abortion clinic's dumpster. This is EXACTLY what you shouldn't do when vying for support of your cause. Trying to draw attention to the monstrosity of an aborted baby carried almost to term? Fine. I'll be in the picket lines with you. Attempting to deceive the public by improperly portraying the majority of abortions (99%, as a matter of fact!)? Fuck off. And apparently, I'm not the only one who was outraged.

So before you close those little peepers tonight, take the time to praise the good lord Jesus for Jars of Clay, the Bible Belt, scheming political activists, and anyone who ever cited scripture for proselytizing purposes.



 
For sale: one slightly used kidney and a partial right lung. Will sell ovaries two for one and throw in bone marrow for fair price.

H2O, Box Car Racer, and The Used are playing at The Palace soon. I wonder if it would be possible to con Susi into going with me. Doubt it. I have to find some way to scrape up 21 bones. Does anyone know how I could go about selling my organs on Ebay?

In other unrelated news, this sniper business is getting interesting...if that's the proper word for it. Reading and listening to the radio about this issue leaves me more confused than a mental deficient at a M.E.N.S.A. gathering. "We caught the sniper like a duck in a noose." Quite an unsettling statement. For now, I'm going to chalk it up to some scripture allusion that I wouldn't understand.

Wednesday, October 23, 2002

 
My fingers
move sly against your palm
Like women everywhere, I speak in code...


A couple of weeks ago, this good-looking guy in my biology class asked me out. On that particular day, I wasn't in the best of moods and I sorta just smiled at him and looked back to my notes. Skip to three weeks later when my subconscious decides it wants to tell me something. Yes, I had a dream about aformentioned guy last night. In this dream, he saved my life. Skip to today when Indigo starts talking about this David character. Indigo tells me she's noticed him looking at me. She tells me that he's amazingly kind, incredibly intellegent, and apsolutely hilarious. Listening to her physical description of this David fellow, I realize that she's speaking of the guy who asked me out. But you know what they say, if it sounds to good to be true, it probably is. Turns out he has a psycho ex-girlfriend. (Susi, would this fit under the sunflower seed dilema? Nah...) Apparently, she's that one girl you always hear about that follows her ex around and breaks windshields and slashes car tires. I don't think I'm mentally equipped to deal with this type of situation. I'm liable to kill someone like that (Yeah, so what if I'm a bit on the violent side?). On the other hand, I don't have a car that she can damage in any way...


 
Butch : Whoa! Your dog is old.
Lindsey : Yes, she's almost 15.
Butch : Does she have a tumor?
Lindsey : Yeah, it's no big deal.
Butch : Whoa! What's this thing on her back? It looks like a nipple! Man, you dog has extra nipples.
Lindsey : Umm, how 'bout no.
Butch : Man, that's really wie-
Lindsey (interupting) : Umm, you should stop before you get decked.
Butch : Sorry, it's just that I've never seen a bli-
Lindsey (again, interupting) : Seriously, you can leave anytime.

Moral of the story: Picking on a girl's poor, old dog isn't the best way to initiate a friendship.
 
Alright...so, yeah. I just found out that the game "ring-around-the-rosy" is based on the bubonic plague. The black plague gave people swollen black spots that were termed "plague roses" or buboes, which were surrounded by a pale ring. Stricken citizens were locked in their homes to die. A "pocket full of posies" was what Londoners carried so they wouldn't smell the corpses. The "ashes, ashes, we all fall down" line goes without saying. While undeniably interesting, this information might somehow diffuse through my subconscious and result in degrading the few happy childhood memories I have left. Good thing I took the time to document it.



Tuesday, October 22, 2002

 
Did horrible on my bio lab practical. Did awesome on my bio exam. Did amazing on my qual analysis for chem lab. Did wretched on my chem exam. Figure that one out, Scooby.

For a second, Florida fooled me into thinking that it was actually going to let itself get cool. That was until I stepped outside this morning, with a jacket on mind you, into 85 degree/ 85% humidity oppression. This is the sort of thing that would never happen to me if I lived in Seattle...