aa, yume desu...

Thank you overheardinnewyork.com

Sun, 20 Jan 2008 05:26:58 GMT

If New Yorkers Ran Disney, We'd Have Classic Films Like Beauty and the Bestiality

White girl: ... And then he took my camera and held it for me during the rest of the ceremony. He's so sweet...
Indian friend: Okay, seriously? That's not romantic, that's pockets!
White girl: I guess he--
Indian friend, interrupting: --We're so messed up. We think it's romantic when people give up their seats for us on the subway. I mean, anything Disney did to give us unrealistic expectations New York kicked right out of us.

XKCD.com

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 06:07:28 GMT

Reading XKCD I noticed something written at the bottom of this page. This is what it says:

Warning: this comic occasionally contains strong language (which may be unsuitable for children), unusual humor (which may be unsuitable for adults), and advanced mathematics (which may be unsuitable for liberal-arts majors).

Then I noticed some teeny-tiny writing below that which was so small I could not read it. With the help of my old friend Copy/Paste I discovered that it says this:

We did not invent the algorithm. The algorithm consistently finds Jesus. The algorithm killed Jeeves.
The algorithm is banned in China. The algorithm is from Jersey. The algorithm constantly finds Jesus.
This is not the algorithm. This is close.

I love XKCD.

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 17:23:21 GMT

HEY HUDSONERS!

Want to make $10 an hour doing almost nothing?

In Hoboken?

I'm currently babysitting a 3rd grader from ECS Monday-Friday. But I have to go back to school on the 25th and his parents are looking for someone.

It's really easy. Pick him up at Elysian at 2:45 (if you have a last period class he can go to aftercare until you get out). Walk him home (2 blocks). Help him with homework (approx 3 pages per week). Give him a snack. And watch him play video games or play board games with him.

You don't have to sit everyday, even if it's just 2 or 3 days a week, or you split the week with someone, the 'rents aren't too picky.

Give me a call/e-mail/comment if you're interested. And do me a favor and pass this on to all the money deprived Hudsoners?

Fri, 28 Dec 2007 09:27:39 GMT

Who here watches American Idol? Who remembers a contestant named Constantine? I met his mother tonight. Well, and his father. And sister.

We took grams to the emergency room this afternoon. She wasn't feeling any better and so mom called her Dr and he said to take her there and he'd see her in the morning. And during the 7 hour wait for a room I started talking to the stressed lady next to me.

I turns out that her husband (Constantine's father) was there for an MRI. And they would have to wait for morning for it. Exciting, isn't it?

I think she was a little disappointed that I wasn't a huge Idol fan, and in love with her son, but at least I'd heard of him, right?

Wed, 12 Dec 2007 17:14:50 GMT

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Spring Classes

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 21:27:05 GMT

MONDAY
Psychology 102 11:00-11:50
Music 101 12:30-1:45
Chemistry 103 2:00-3:15

TUESDAY
Calculus3 203 11:00-12:15
Acting1 101 4:00-5:40

WEDNESDAY
Psychology 102 11:00-11:50
Music 101 12:30-1:45
Chemistry 103 2:00-3:15

THURSDAY
Calculus3 203 11:00-12:15
Chemistry 103 2:00-3:50
Acting1 101 4:00-5:40

FRIDAY
Psychology 102 11:00-11:50
Calculus3 12:00-1:50
Chemistry 103 2:00-3:50

Not too bad. Nothing before 11. It was the schedule I wanted. And I got it. I'm happy. And just may die. 17 credits.

a christmas of knives

Tue, 20 Nov 2007 05:30:36 GMT

So mom took a look at my throat today. I had been sick, but am feeling much better. But mom, being mom, wanted to look at my throat. Now before I go on I feel that I should tell you that I've had a little issue with my throat ever since I was a wee one. I used to get strep throat. A lot. "One more time and we're going to take those tonsils out." And then I'd get it twice. Some how I managed to make it through my childhood with my tonsils intact. However they have always been very large.

Well, now they're freeking huge. I never noticed it, because...well...they've always been big. But mom freaked out. So I'm (possibly missing a test and) going to the doctor's at 8 am. Skipping onr or more classes. Mom thinks they'll give me meds. And then if that doesn't work they'll take them out. And since there's only a month of school left, they'd probably just wait until winter break.

Which is when I'm already getting my wisdom teeth pulled. How fun is that going to be.

Here Myla, here are some presents. Now let me rip out some stuff from the back of your throat. Okay, thats all healed, now let me pull out some teeth.

Ugggggg.

Mon, 19 Nov 2007 05:49:35 GMT

"Here is a lesson in creative writing.

First rule: Do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely noting. All they do is show you've been to college."

-Kurt Vonnegut

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 19:26:15 GMT

So I know I haven't written anything in a while. A hectic life makes finding time to write difficult.

Only a week and a day until my birthday. And then I will no longer be "only just eighteen," although I do hope I keep the "exceedingly pretty" part.

Rehearsal yesterday, rehearsal today, rehearsal tomorrow, rehearsal saturday. We practiced the second interlude for almost two hours yesterday and then told that we can go home because the director wouldn't have time to look at it. But we got the music down (mostly, there are a few lyrical issues and one part that I never get right) and we started choreographing it. It shall rock.

Tomorrow means Calc and World Humanities. Saturday after rehearsal I'm going back to Jersey so I can take a nice trip to the doctor's office. I've been sick for over a week and it's not getting much better. Nick Steiner has been sick for almost three weeks now, so maybe there is something going around. But I want to make sure I'm in top shape for next week.

Wednesday, right after the Hudson thing, I'm leaving for Washington DC (well, Bethesda, MD, but it's just outside of DC). There I will have Thanksgiving dinner, and go to church on Thanksgiving, WITH JOHN'S FAMILY. I'm freaking out. John keeps telling me I have nothing to worry about, but I'm still freaked out. I'm not just meeting his parents. And sister. And entire neighborhood. No, I'm having a fun packed weekend with them. Holy shit. I hope I don't die. If I survive, we're coming home on Friday, so I guess it's not really a whole weekend but still.

Mom is scared for me, too. But she's more afraid of me driving than meeting the parents. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

I need to be held.

Wed, 17 Oct 2007 17:21:00 GMT

A five hour break between classes every week is a good time to get work done. But it is also well equipped for putting off work until an hour before class, writing the worst peper ever, and getting an A anyway.

I have to pee and I'm all alone. John gets out of class in two hours. I have 41% battery left. Oh foo.

There is nothing like geting stoned and letting the colors take over you

Sun, 14 Oct 2007 02:04:31 GMT

On the bus ride home from NYC we drove past this Korean Thanksgiving celebration. A huge outdoor one with booths and rides and huge balloons. And fireworks.

I spent another amazing day with John. Starting with a very promisng rehearsal and ending with some very nice snuggling before I had to run to catch my bus.

In other news, Yale is a giant ass. And I'll be damned if i go one inch out of my way to see him when he comes home. Make him suffer, I say. The ass.

Sat, 06 Oct 2007 01:20:57 GMT

Pirates meets Harry Potter and is molested by Tim Burton:

http://www.filmschoolrejects.com/trailers/sweeney-todd-the-demon-barber-of-fleet-street-trailer.php

Can I just tell you all how excited I am.

Why, yes, I am from Jersey.

Tue, 25 Sep 2007 02:25:07 GMT

John came to visit me in Jersey yesterday. After much debate and checking of bus schedules, I decided (was convinced) to pick him up from work. At 6am. In the financial district. We agreed on 6:30, which meant I left my house at 5:30. After getting lost and going in circles a few too many times, I finally found John on Broadway, tired and all dressed up.

We came back to Jersey and went to the diner for an early breakfast. We were the only ones there. It was odd.

Then we came back to my house. We took a quick tour and then John took a nap. That was at about 8 am. John slept until a little after noon.

After I finally got him up we went to Bishoffs' for lunch. He had a burger. I had eaten while he was asleep. Then we got two GIANT ice cream sundays. Bishoffs is known for its ice cream. There's even a Facebook group titled something like "Bishoffs is the best ice cream everrrrrr!!!1!1!" or something like that.

Then we came home, watched a movie, went for a walk while mom was out with the car, came home, and I drove him home. Mama didn't want me to. She doesn't like me out of her sight. But I convinced her to let me. So I drove him home.

Grams liked him. Mom thought he looked old. Which he does with his beard. Grandma thinks he looked nice. Mom was weirded out that he had a briefcase (from work).

Nothing else eventful has really happened.

Tired now.

Good night.

P.S. The A train being messed up on weekends really annoys me. And my pants don't fit because I'm bloated.

I hate needles.

Sat, 22 Sep 2007 03:44:22 GMT

So I spent most of my morning in the STD clinic in the city. John was shocked when I told him that I'd never been tested, and told me I should go. Even though there was no chance in hell that I had HIV, it's still good to get tested.

So, after being an hour and a half late (I'm sorry), I sat around, got asked personal questions, peed in a cup, then used a dropper to put some pee in a little tube, wrapped the empty cup and dropper in a brown paper bag that could have held my lunch, carried my pee all over the clinic, and got a rapid HIV test where they swab your mouth, and then had a very nice lady stick a needle in my arm.

Needless to say, I do not have HIV. And the STD test results will be back in a week.

My arm still hurts. It is going to bruise. There aren't many people that I'd take a needle for.

This feels too familiar...

Tue, 18 Sep 2007 02:45:24 GMT

Lydia Becker first entered my life 14 years ago. She was Christopher's Kindergarten teacher.

The year went on and she made quite an impact on Chris. And on my parents. As the year drew to a close my mom mentioned to her that I was still too young for kindergarten, but didn't want to return to the Lutheran School that I had been going to. Lydia suggested that we look at a private preschool called Lindgren. And thus she changed my life.

Lindgren is a preschool and summer camp for kids ages 3-9. Her husband, Bob, worked the camp, and had for a long time. Her daughter, Nikahya, had gone there for camp, too. So my parents looked into it and absolutely fell in love with this hippie-camp, as we like to call it. And so I spent a year of my life playing in mud and making crafts.

The next time Lydia, well, Ms. Becker as I called her then, came into my life was just the next year. As I was now old enough to go to kindergarten, I was promptly pulled out of Lindgren and sent to the same school that Chris had gone to. I expected to get my friend's mother as a teacher. Benno was his name. I don't remember hers. I had even visited her class on the silly day that they ship you off to the older school so that you can get a feel for it. So imagine my surprise when, a few weeks before school started, I (well, my mom anyway) go a letter saying that I was to have Lydia Becker as a teacher.

My mother and I both thought it odd that Chris and I were to have the same teacher. Especially one that we knew so well. In later years she confided in me: "Every year we were allowed to pick one student for our class. Only one. We would pick based on that visiting day. And I fought to get you."

Over the next few years our families grew closer and closer. Chris and I were still both going to Lindgren for camp. Dad was working there. Nikahya was working there. Nikahya is the only babysitter Chris and I ever had...other than grandma. They were like family to us.

So it was no surprise when Lydia (because one I was out of her class I started to call her Lydia) called my dad one day in my second grade year. She had gotten an offer to started a charter school in Hoboken, NJ. And she wanted dad's help. The Elysian Charter School (ECS) was founded in the fall of my third grade year. You may argue with me, saying that it has been around for more than 10 years, but I remember. That first year the school was K-2. They were going to add another year, every year, until they finally reached the 8th grade. I remember because I was always a year too old to go. And it always pissed me off.

So for the next five or six years I would spend every day off of school running around Elysian. Every day I was sick, I would spend napping in Lydia's office. Mama didn't like leaving me home when I was sick, and Lydia had a couch in her office. She never minded the little sicky.

The years went by and she became more and more like an aunt. She lived in my town, just a few miles from me. I would sometimes go visit after school. And then I started at Hudson, and I was even closer. Leaving rehearsal late at night, I would make my way over to ECS. I'd buzz in and she'd answer. She'd always send down the elevator for me. She even drove me home more than a few times.

Time went on and I grew more independent. Eventually a group of parents at ECS who wanted the school to be run differently than Lydia (illegally) threw Lydia out of office. (Lydia had planned a school that was for everyone. No one paid to go. You applied and then got picked by lottery. Once you were in the school, there was no way you were leaving, unless you wanted to. The classes catered to the students. If they were particularly interested in a certain field, they would study it. Needless to say, I was always jealous of the students. I believe I even once asked Lydia if she could create and extra grade just for me. However, this system allowed some "problem children" and some "slow learners" to stay in the school. But then there were those parents who believed the classes should be more structured. They wanted the "weaker children" to not be allowed back. They wanted it to be more like The Hudson School. So they got rid of Lydia).

Then Lydia's family fell on some hard times. Bob injured his back and had to have surgery. Nikahya, finishing grad school, moved closer to home to be near her parents. And then, a little over a year ago, Lydia was diagnosed with Cancer. And the doctors said it didn't look good.

Walking into the EAS office in Marshak today, I knew something was wrong by the look on dad's face. He told me to sit down, so I sat. He told me Lydia died last week, so I started to cry. Apparently she died last Monday, but her family didn't want to make a big deal about it, so they didn't tell anyone. That was almost two hours ago. I'm still crying now, and I've developed a splititng head ache. I can breathe though. There was a while there where I really had to think about taking a breath.

Why Lydia? Why now? Why her? There are hundreds, and thousands, and millions of bad people in the world...why did it have to be someone so loving? So caring? So compassionate? I've known Lydia for 14 or 15 years, and I don't think I've ever met anyone more amazing. I can't recall a single instance of her raising her voice. Oh, I've seen her mad. I've seen her disappointed. I've seen her discipline some of the worst kids I've ever met. But she never once lost her temper.

So this is my goodbye to Lydia Becker. You were a great mother, a great teacher, a great mentor, and a great friend. And I know that you can read these words as I write them because, if there is a Heaven, you are one person who is surly on the guest list.

Sun, 02 Sep 2007 23:53:06 GMT

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Sat, 25 Aug 2007 17:28:44 GMT

yay! I win!

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 20:34:39 GMT

I walked into camp today to see a large group of people standing together, all with sad faces. I heard them talking about something, so i walked over. Jill told me something. I though she said "Billy died yesterday." So I thought, oh, thats sad, the horse died. But then dad said "Wil. Wil Lindgren."

I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. Wil was 15. He was my other family. I knew him from the time he was a baby.

His older brother died when I was about 7 or 8. Henry. Henry was about my age, maybe a year older.

Today was such a subdued day. You could tell which counselors knew Wil, because they were all quiet and looked like they could burst out in tears any second. And a few of us did.

I don't know what to do now. I'm hungry. But all I want to do is crawl into bed and never leave. Wil's parents are two of the nicest people I know. And to lose, not just one child, but your two youngest children. I feel so bad for the oldest.

Mon, 13 Aug 2007 01:59:47 GMT

Wed, 01 Aug 2007 22:19:15 GMT

thank you alex.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Wed, 01 Aug 2007 02:12:50 GMT

I need to sort out my priorities.

Okay, here's a few facts about my face book groups:

Flaming Lips Groups: 2

Harry Potter Groups: 3

Star Wars Groups: 1

HOW AM I IN ONLY ONE STAR WARS GROUP BUT IN THREE FOR HP?

I have been shamed.

Fri, 20 Jul 2007 01:55:26 GMT

Looking at a picture of a seemingly very stoned uncle Tim:

Me: Is that Timmy?

Mom: why, yes it is.

Me: God. How much weed did he smoke right before this picture was taken. A pound?

Mom: Weed doesn't come in pounds.

Pause.

Me: How do you know that?

Mom: (smile) I am a hippie.

Mon, 09 Jul 2007 02:30:15 GMT

Suck it bitches. All of them.

Mon, 02 Jul 2007 03:46:01 GMT

After over six and a half hours of travel, I am finally home.

Fuck that. Next time I'm driving. It's cheaper. It's faster. And it's less of a pain in my ass.

In other news, my mother was gently, lovingly rubbing my lower back, when her hand softly swept over my belly, and her look changed to one of terror and death. So yeah, she knows. And she hates it. And she wants me to take it out. But she can suck it. I like it. It's my body. It stays. But at least now I don't have to keep it one big secret.

Sleep now. Work tomorrow. Groan.

Wed, 13 Jun 2007 18:30:39 GMT

We brought her home today. She's still got her leg, but it doesn't work at all. And they don't think it ever will. We have this sling thing that you wrap around her waist and she can kind of hobble around. She's doing pretty well, all things considered. Mama is still all upset. She hates the idea of a three legged dog.

Right now shes asleep in the corner, on top of an old blanket. We're all so glad that she's back. But these next few weeks are going to be hard...