*?*=/Observations\=*?*

The most of the entries that are public on here are my older stuff that I started as a sophomore in high school. In 2009, I started blogging about my more recent college experiences. However, they are private: only for people who I am friends with here on LJ and real life. :P

So you wanna read my MORE RECENT stuff, do ya? FRIEND ME THEN. I'd only be willing to friend people I know or have some good reason to be interested in what I post... 0_o

I've just started Observations on random stuff, so if you haven't friended me you can read those for now.

Most of my blogging is an attempt to get better at writing. I can already see what my style is, like the words  and phrases I use often. I think, or rather hope, that this is going to be useful for something some day. It had occurred to me that I hadn't written much of anything lately on my own time, so this is what I came up with. It's not only a journal, it's a writing process. Perhaps the stuff I do here could turn out as a rough draft of future works. ;P

So. This is my first draft of the short story for Creative Writing. I don't know what it's about. I don't know who the characters are, they're most likely no one. Just borrowed events, names, and ideas and threw them together to create...this.

As the latest iteration of Facebook has deemed it necessary for me to see every single time my friends pick their noses in the Live Feed, I simply cannot help but notice every detail of their previously private Facebook activities. Especially pertaining to what friends they make and the groups they now join. Neither of which I care much about, but they’re too consistent to ignore (Damn you, Live Feed).

I continue to see groups sprouting up pertaining to the desire for a dislike button. And I have a few things to say about it.

It's obvious people like the Like button. The One Click Comment approach. What’s not to like about the Like Button? Heck, I use it all the time. I see something one of my friends is doing that I approve of, click, and they know so.

The Office is awesome. Like button.
I found a hundred dollars in my sandwich. Like button.
My dog just threw up. Like button.
I hope he ruined your carpet.

It's easy. We all like easy things. I cannot agree with this more. Someone press the Staples’ Easy button for me. That button knows what it’s talking about.

The logical course of action, of course, is to give this button its counterpart. The jelly to its peanut butter. The day to its night. The one thing that is the opposite of the other thing. You get it. I get it. Why doesn’t Facebook?

Well, I’m sure that those folks at Facebook (as the higher-ups at Facebook will be referred to, henceforth as "Facebook Folks") are aware of how opposites work. Like how people are happy with Facebook pre-FacebookLifeChanging-update and are unhappy post-update. Yes, I feel those folks are aware of this process, even though they do not feel the need acknowledge it. You don’t see them creating a group saying “Join this group if you’re just going to keep coming back no matter how much you don’t like what we change because we have the final say and we totally rule your lives, get over it.”

We all already are a member of that group. That group is Facebook itself.

Of course, people are thinking about the conventional use for a dislike button. The obvious use: agreeing with a comment that something is bad. Like the status "I got an F on my math test." Your friend Timmy would press the dislike button and then you and Timmy would agree that Fs in math are bad. And everything's great. Yay.

Another use with friends, could be in jest. Like "I got an A on my math test." And my friend Timmy gives it a dislike, but he goes on to post that, "You suck. I got a D-." This establishes that Timmy is a jealous turd.

These are the obvious reasons that come to mind that make people wonder why Facebook is so dumb to deny the Unlike button its rightful throne next to the Like button.

But I'm sure that the hesitation in adding the Dislike button--the little thumbs down that seems so easy to add--is the concern that it would be abused. It’s the conflict that negative comments can cause. The potential for even more misunderstandings and needless disagreements, which occur quite frequently in conversations through the Internet as it is. That is why I believe they haven’t gone ahead and threw it up the same time they put up the like button.

Let us refer back to the F on the math test example. I post: "I got an A on my math test." Then Timmy presses the Dislike button. I click the little red icon at the bottom of my screen. “Timmy Whatzizface dislikes your status.” The words sear into my brain. Timmy. Dislike. And then I'm sad. And Timmy is a douche for not sharing my happiness in light of my major success. As my eyes begin to mist up, I unfriend him while reaching for a tissure to dab away my tears of dissapointment. I block him as well. The next day, in math class, I slap him across the face with the very math test I got an A on, the red ink staining his cheek as his own tears stream down it.

This is, of course, the worst case scenario. And this is what Facebook, is probably trying to avoid. Timmy the Turd from getting slapped. People getting mad at other people over nothing. Which already happens. And is put on the news for all of us to laugh at. As always.

So the purpose of this is to bring to light the other side of the story. The reason that the Dislike button has yet to make its debut stem is unlikely to stem from supposed incompetence and/or unwillingness of Facebook to add the darned option. Dislike is a stronger word than we realize. Well, not until we get that unpleasant twinge of disappointment when someone dislikes something we were actually proud of. Perhaps then we’d see what Facebook is trying to prevent. Well, something worse than twinges, I’d hope.

And so leads into my rant about the true power of the Facebook groups on changing things in Facebook itself. Which is none. None power. Approximately.

Joining a Facebook group will always establish at least one thing: that you have joined a Facebook group. Not necessarily that you are going to reach the goals that the title of the group states. Just because you join a group that says "If you join this group, the thing that the rest of us joined it for will actually happen," in fact **does not guarantee that the thing you joined the group for will actually happen.**

Facebook is not governed by the people, for the people. It is governed by the people that *allow* the stalkers, the people that worry their Strawberry crop will die if they don’t get online to harvest it in the next hour, the people that complete quizzes to determine what Family Guy character they are, the people that put up pictures of that party their coach demands that they remove a day later…a place to stay. This is all.

Facebook doesn’t have to care if we all threaten to leave if it decides to make some sort of new radical change, like the words will always be written upside-down and backwards forever until the end of time. Some would leave. But the rest would figure out how to rig up a system of mirrors in order to respond to that quiz note that we were tagged in to show our friends. Facebook does not have to listen to us. It has the power. We are serfs on its mansion.

It's a Facebook group. Not a divine mandate that will carry the wrath of some omnipotent force that will smite the Facebook Folks that are preventing you and the other hundred or thousand people from reaching your group title/mission statement. Not summoning some genie that will make your shazam your desires into existence unbeknownst to the Facebook Folks. As far as I’m concerned, someone that wants to start such a group is just trying to see how many people they can get to join it and gloat.

Sure, you may just join a group for the sake of doing so. This is perfectly allowed. Join as many groups as you want. I don’t care. Well, since it appears in my Live Feed, I guess that I am supposed to, but for now, I will refuse to do so. But by all means, do not allow my sleep-deprived rant stir some deep-seated rage to hurtle back at me ten-fold. I’m barely clinging to conscious here. One can just as easily surmise that I wrote this because I don’t like Facebook groups. Because I don’t. You’re right. You won the game. Now that I’m forced to see them even more often annoys me even more. Or that I don’t think that random people on the Internet can come together to get something accomplished. Which I don’t. I’m a bitter cynic when it comes to people working together. Utopia will never be achieved. Why? Because group projects for school suck. A bunch of random people thrown together, in real life, with conflicting schedules. And on top of that, you all get graded on it. No good ever comes of group work. Search your heart, you know it to be true.

And so ends my rant. I think that the Facebook folks would sooner turn everyone's profile picture to a pink hippopotamus before caving in to the demands of a Facebook group. They’re the ones that have the power over us. Quit while you’re ahead. Or just keep busy by harvesting your crops on Farmville.

P.S. I'm avoiding writing my Lit essay, which is probably why I got started on this tirade. Even though I'm on the first page still. Whee. If nothing else, take this as an attempt to get my argumentative juices flowing and a way to stay awake to write the other 4 pages.

I was up late writing this one. I was trying to wrap it up towards the end, so that's why it's a pretty abrupt ending. We had to write about the person in an unfamiliar place. I chose a train station, for some reason. I could have done something crazier, but I had a particular story in mind that I wanted to write about. So. Train station. Not as weird as it could be. And LJ spaced it all weird.

Looking at the large clock looming above the spacious station, Cathy was mildly irritated to see it was barely 6:40. It was bad enough that she had to wake up before noon in the first place and having to catch a 7:40 train on top of that annoyed her even more. Glancing up at the train schedule, the one to Providence still displayed ‘ON TIME’. At least that was one thing to be optimistic about; her train wasn’t hampered by this dreary weather.

She turned her gaze to the series of glass windows lining the east side of the station, rain streaking steadily down their panes. It was difficult to tell if the sun had come up yet as the clouds were wringing themselves out over everything outside. Even if the sun was up, its rays were unable to pierce the thick clouds camped overhead.

“Robbie better be cooking up something amazing or else I’ll never forgive him for this,” she mumbled to herself.

Cathy usually felt uneasy in public places, she was somewhat thankful to be sheltered from the downpour. With her train scheduled to arrive nearly an hour from now, she had the station to herself. Virtually all the seats were vacant, and the tables were somewhat clean. The food stands were still locked up and unlit aside from the luminous pair of golden arches glowing above the entrance to the food court.

Well, if I have to wait at a station at all, it’s best that it’s an empty one, she thought.

She took a table where she could see the schedule clearly. Cathy wanted to be aware of any further nuisances as soon as possible. Even if it became delayed only 15 minutes, she was ready to cancel the trip entirely. As far as she was concerned, it was torture to be conscious before sunrise. Having another second added to her journey would be reason enough for her to call back the taxi to take her back to her warm apartment in Salem.

Taking a chair from an adjacent table to put her backpack on, she took the one already at the table to sit on. The scraping noise the chair made the rough floor was deafening compared to the stillness of the station and echoed for a few seconds before dissipating. She cringed, not intending to disturb the tranquil atmosphere.

To her surprise, something else jerked at the unpleasant sound. She swiftly turned her head to identify the source of the movement to her left.

            She hadn’t realized there was someone else here. The young man she startled apparently was thinking along the same lines. He was deeply engrossed in the newspaper from the day before, so still and grey that Cathy took him to be another chair.

He smiled. She pursed her lips briefly and sat down.

As far as random people went, she mused, he wasn’t the worst one to run into. He was at least her age, maybe a year or two older.

She dusted off some stray salt specks from the table, trying not to engage him further. Talking to random people just wasn’t her thing. She retrieved her laptop from her backpack to make her look busy. She peered intently at the loading screen, attempting to fend off any further interaction. She was in no mood for talking with anyone she knew let alone some stranger she just met.

            “Nobody but us early birds, huh?” he inquired.

“Unfortunately so,” Cathy responded, without taking her eyes off the screen.

Oblivious to her terse response, he continued, “Crappy weather out, huh?”

“Could be better.”

She entered her password information and was greeted with her grinning pug Rolf, tail frozen mid-wag on her background.

“Waiting for someone?” he prodded once more, refusing to let her quietly search for a wi-fi connection.

Before Cathy could generate another frigid reply, a shrill voice shattered through what was left of her peace and quiet,

“JERREEMEEEYYY!!!”

A thoroughly drenched woman came wailing toward them through the automatic doors.

“I’m soaked! Why didn’t you tell me it was pouring out?!” she whined.

“Sorry… I didn’t know,” he sheepishly replied standing up to give her his jacket.

She tugged Jeremy’s arm as she got one arm through his jacket. Cathy glared into her screen, hoping these obnoxious people would be leaving soon.

“Let’s go before it starts getting worse. The sooner I get out of these clothes the better,” she said with a half-smile.

He chuckled thickly and turned to follow her out into the storm. He looked back briefly to see the girl huddled behind her laptop, then stepped out into the cold shower.

             In Creative Writing class, my professor had us choose one of the pictures that he'd found and then write about the person/people in the picture. My picture had a guy playing guitar, sitting on a bus/train. An old man was sitting across the aisle from him and was glaring. At first I started writing some sappy crap about the guitar guy, with all his dreams and ambitions, on the way to an audition with one of his new songs. And then I noticed the glaring old man. And this happened.

It's as fictional as semi-real situations can be. If that makes any sense. >__>:

Dear Roomie,
I know we don’t know each other that well and it’s been a long five weeks for us both,
But there are just a few issues we need to resolve before I can live another minute with you.

1. Your stuff belongs in your room. The couch isn’t an extension of your closet. It reeks from your sweaty lacrosse socks. Someone three apartments over knocked on our door earlier today about the smell.
2. Peanut butter does NOT belong on top of the stove, floor, wall, or whatever place you decide to rest your knife before it reaches the sink.
a. (The same applies for tomato sauce, chocolate, and that sticky white stuff that I hope for YOUR sake is mayonnaise.)
8. Your dirty dishes from the first week of school are still in the sink. It’s been over a month, they’ve “soaked” enough.
a. Saying that you’re soaking dishes isn’t an excuse to get out of cleaning them.
11. My cup with the daises around the edges is gone. It was a graduation present from my nana. She died last year. I want it back or I’m going to summon her spirit to haunt you.
14. The nights that Jared stays over, do try to minimize the rhythmic thumping. It’s been keeping me up at night. I don’t care that the maintenance guy says the walls are soundproofed, it sounds like I’m in the same room with you guys.
22. You tend to forget where the furniture is when you return from partying at 2 a.m. If you fall over the coffee table and break my TV, I’m making you pay for a new one. A floor plan of the apartment is enclosed on page 8 for you to memorize.
37. If Sarah pukes on any surface of this apartment again I am making you clean it with your own toothbrush. My bed still smells like an amusement park ride.
38. Sarah isn’t allowed in my room anymore.
39. Sarah still owes me $7. (She is allowed to slide it under my door)
56. The food in the fridge with my name written on it is FOR me. Not FROM me. Stop adding the R in there. I know it’s you, our handwriting is nothing alike.
74. Next time, mark the water bottle that has vodka in it instead of water. I accidentally used it on my oatmeal and it tasted like warmed-up nail polish.
89. The thermostat is up too high. I don’t care how warm it is where you’re from, 85°F is too much. You are going to boil my fish.
107. I know you killed my fish last weekend when I went home and asked you to take care of it. This one is missing a stripe. For the record, salt mixed with water isn’t the same as saltwater.
122. If the hair you leave in the shower becomes sentient due to that special combination of hair care products you use, you can’t say I didn’t warn you to clean it sooner.
a. If it does come alive either you will have to deal with it yourself because I will move out if that ever happens.

Well, I think that’s about everything so far. My mom bought us some cookies to share. They’re in the one drawer that Sarah hasn’t regurgitated in yet.
Best wishes,
Your Roommate.

My professor gave us a random line to compose a whole poem in our heads. I didn't have this whole thing in my head, but I added to it laters.


The Lake of My Youth

We saw the lights from across the pond hovering lazily above the shimmering surface
As the sun wrapped itself in its inky purple blankets and prepared to sink into bed.
Gilly and I hid in the towering reeds fencing the pond with our chins touching our ankles, giggling incessantly, determined to stay out just a few seconds longer.
Mom’d be mad to find us all muddy and scraped from playing in and around that pond all day.

We leapt like kangaroos through the scratchy, untamed grass behind the house, doing cartwheels or handstands as we fancied,
Pausing to comb the ground for a stray turtle or frog to join us.
We swam like the fish that timidly nipped our toes if we dangled them off the dock long enough. Splashing and churning that murky pond water until our hands turned into soggy raisins.
We picked blades of grass to turn into instruments by pressing them to our lips and blowing as hard as we could. Gilly would beg me to teach her how to squeak out the notes better.
I picked up ants from dirt mounds and flick them at her. She would sling a mudball back threatening the wrath of Mom on me through shrill shrieks of fear and delight.

Those sloppy summer days could never surpass the nights that we were forbidden to fully experience. Once we were older, Mom said, we could stay out a whole fifteen minutes longer.
But I yearned to learn the secrets of those nights.
I wanted to know what the bugs were discussing all night, soft murmurs at first that grew gradually into a cacophony of hundreds of different conversations.
I wanted to prove to Gilly that bear I convinced her lived in our woods was real. I would threaten send it to eat her up in her sleep if she ever told on me about the ants.
I wanted to find the Big Dipper and all those other shapes and animals that live in the stars.

Before long, mom was shouting from the porch, demanding we reveal ourselves or risk being sent to bed without dessert.
Reluctantly we would heed her call. The third one, of course. We’d dare not challenge her a fourth time with her mouth-watering apple pie at stake.
Sometime I wish she would forget we were out there so I could soak up those summer nights as long as I wanted.

We sold the house the summer after that.
The contractors soon followed with their hard hats and dirty construction trucks.
They knocked down my house and the two further down from it,
Filled in the pond,
And stuck some mall in there.
I now will never know what happens at night at my pond
Aside the custodian buffing the floors of the food court.

This was for Creative Writing and I'm somewhat happy with it.

Evil

Evil is the news station.
Doesn’t matter the number,
They’re all the same.
With their primped anchors
Turning on their plastic smiles
Obediently reading the lines
Someone else wrote for them.
Exchanging flimsy banter
With fellow cast members
To make them seem personable.
When we get to the depressing stories
Don’t forget to turn that smile off
And make your voice sound serious.
All those channel claiming
To have got that story first.
Squabbling like vultures
Over the latest carcass.
Switch over to that breaking news
That you’ve been repeating
Every twenty minutes.
The field reporter thrusts the microphone,
With the number 5 stuck to it,
Close to the woman’s sobbing face.
Her son was hit
By some drunk driver
A few hours ago,
The voiceover explains.
Thank God that those
News vans got there in time.
The camera struggles
To focus on his broken body
As it’s wheeled into the ambulance.
Zoom in on those
Red stains on the pavement
In the crosswalk he used
To go home from school.
I bet Channels 5 and 7 didn’t catch that.
That’s what makes Channel 9
Your top choice
For the news.
But, no time to dwell
On that crying lady
And her dead kid.
We’ve got to move along
To the next story.
Something more upbeat.
Take your mind of that sad stuff.
I guess that those
Kittens at the shelter
Still need homes.
We turn over to
Our reporter Janet Branscomb
To tell us more.
Janet?

I don't like this. It's late. I'm tired. I'm showing it to you anyways.

The Game
The dragon soars around the dark-blue screen, lands in the lower-right corner, and roars jets of blue flame as I input the login information. After a few seconds, the dialog box prompts me the connection has succeeded. I glance over the names of my characters. The airy chorus wails in the background over the booming drums and fanfare. The Hunter could use a bit of training, I suppose. Only level 70, so far. I had neglected him these past few days in favor of the Death Knight. The lanky, blue-skinned troll straightens and shrugs his wiry shoulders as I select him before hunching over again. A gray helm allows his abnormally long ears to protrude on either side of his head. A large steel sword grasped in one hand, a gun adorned with a skull strapped to his back. So noisy. I prefer bows. This’ll be the best weapon he’ll get for a while, so I’ll tolerate it for now. Soloing sucks. He wears the green mail armor from slaying the Boglord a few weeks back. Should replace that soon. He’ll hardly hold up in the Nexus with flimsy stats like that. His pet, the blue-striped saber tooth tiger, yawns at his ankles before returning to its signature toothy grin. It’s green eyes glow faintly. I double click the Hunter’s name. The loading screen greets me with a still image of two corrupted elf races as the world prepares itself for the Hunter’s latest adventure. A message at the bottom reads: “Bring your friends to Azeroth, but don’t forget to go outside of Azeroth with them as well.” A bit, too late for that, I think. Within a few seconds, the hunter is placed in the zone. A light flute tune lilts into the headphones. The rolling green plains sprawl out before the troll. The thick trees and contours of the terrain load soon after. The cat appears at his heels, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. The mouse angles upwards to gaze at the overlapping, pale green and red moons hanging over the swirling purple sky. The fluffy pink clouds are more attractive then the grey ones hovering outside the window. The gazelle-like creatures with the long, gnarled horns amble back and forth in their preset paths beneath the trees, repeating their idle animations idly. They’ll not attack or run no matter how close I get to them. I doubt a real gazelle would react the same. The appeal this world makes to me is nearly impossible to describe. A red target appears over a gazelle’s head. The cat utters a low, sharp growl as it charges the oblivious beast. The gun cracks sharply as I fire at its throat. It lows in anger.

The longest thing that I've written in weeks and normal people probably aren't going to understand it. Originally posted here: http://thottbot.com/v4476896

"Scrimshank's Surveying Gear"
A harrowing experience even at 53 (Hunter). Wouldn't have been such a big deal were it not for those darned Swarmers... Tried to make my way into the Chasm at an earlier level but was discouraged by those pesky Hazzali Swarmers that chomped away at my pet like piranhas.

Returned once I was a little stronger and used Volley on the swarmer's adds which helped my pet to manage the main Swarmer easier. I'd suggest a Serpent Sting on the Swarmer before Volley on the adds. It truly saved my life. Managed to make it over to the area where the Surveying Gear was but got tripped up by a Swarmer aggro'd by another monster my pet was attacking. A misplaced Volley nearly killed me.

I was around the corner just ahead of the Gear when I set out my pet to attack on of the Workers in my path. A Swarmer walked out of nowhere and joined the fray just as the Worker as on its last leg. I tried a Volley but I misjudged the shot as I was around the corner and it missed completely. My pet died due to all the adds on it and 20 of the little bastards turned their sights on me. They resisted my first Feign Death but I was able to use Readiness to refresh the cooldown so I could try it again.

Thankfully, it worked the second time and the adds all scattered away in time enough for me to down a Clamelette Surprise and rez my pet. They managed to get me to half my health but eating saved me. I peeked around the corner and they all were gone. The Serpent Sting I set on the big Swarmer killed it as I Feigned Death. Killed one more Worker, got the stupid Gear and hearthed to Gadgetzan. Never want to go back there again.

And at last we come to the seventh (but technically fifth) and final edition of the Observations Archives. However, I hope to carry on the Observations legacy, but in longer sentences and with less craziness. Or more. Depends on what I'm observing at the time...

( The end? You wish. )

The sixth volume...wait, six? Where is four and five? Well, luckily I wrote in the Observation why a few numbers are missing. At first I was really puzzled as to where the other ones went. I actually Googled 'Roman Numerals' and went to Wikipedia to make sure that this was number 6 and not 4, like it technically is. Well, enjoy. Or try to.

( Why are we at 6 already? )

The third volume of the Observations Archives. More 8th grade ramblings and randomness.

( Click for moooore. )

The second volumeof the Observations Archives. This is my first crack at writing down the crazy things that my friends and I were doing in our SSR class in 8th grade. PS. I can't believe I ever wrote this.

( The nonsensicalness ensues. )

Allow me to welcome you to the first volume of (what I have just decided to call) The Observations Archives. Below is the first recorded page of Observations, preserved eternally in digital format.

The idea was not original started by me, but Charlene Alfaro, but I carried it on afterwards. So here it is. The random happenings that occurred in my 8th grade science classroom SSR (Sustained Silent Reading) at the John F. Kennedy Middle School.

Whatever happened in the classroom was written (or in my case, hastily scribbled) down as soon as it happened on notebook paper. I later was able to type the original copies into Word documents.

You will notice that the events below are not related to sustained silent reading whatsoever. This is more like a free period with a weird name. Well, what more can you expect from a school system that renamed 'detentions' to the 'so-called,' less-offensive 'sessions?'

( The insanity begins... )

Kristin did this a while back and it made me want to do the same.

Class Description Units Grade Grade Points

ENG 295 WORLD LITERATURE II 3.00 A 12.000
GGR 100P WEATHER & CLIMATE 4.00 A- 14.800
HIS 102 WORLD HISTORY II 3.00 B+ 9.900
IDS 271 INFO TECH, SOCIETY AND CULTURE 3.00 A 12.000
SMS 194 HEALTH AND WELLNESS 3.00 A 12.000
SPN 201 INTERMEDIATE SPANISH I 3.00 A- 11.100

Yay. An update. At last. :/ Click to see the rest.

( Let's get this over with... )

The note that I already put on Facebook. :P

INSTRUCTIONS:
1. Put your iTunes, Windows Media Player, mp3 player etc. on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. Tag 15 friends
4. Everyone tagged copy this note and repeat from step 1.

( See my answers. :P )

For the record, if you're trying to find ways to get out of a bad mood,
never,
ever,
NEVER,
take a depression test.

It doesn't help.

PS. DON'T GO AHEAD AND TAKE 3 MORE TESTS TO SEE IF THE FIRST ONE WAS WRONG.
ALSO NOT HELPFUL.
PANNING AROUND TO FIND POLLS ABOUT DEPRESSING THINGS IS NO MOOD BOOSTER.
DO NOT BE FOOLED.
QUIT WHILE YOU ARE AHEAD/BEHIND.

Plans for turning in early didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped since I was up at midnight. I’m so particular about what wakes me up. Like really loud noises don’t tend to do it cause they usually stop after a little while. It’s the sounds at normal volume at a consistent rate, like people’s conversations. I was up at weird hours after that too. It was probably the heat in the dorm that was keeping me up, but I refused to get up and open the window since I was so comfy in bed.

At 7 I got up, a more reasonable hour to start the day than midnight. Monday mornings meant Health was my first class at 8. I left my form a little later than usual, but I was still the first one in the classroom. Funny, I was expecting that there would be at least a few people sitting down before I got there, but was happily surprised that I was somewhat on time. We took notes on addiction in class today. It wasn’t encouraging to learn that I recognized that I exhibited some of the traits we were learning about, lol. Well, I guess it’s good to be aware that I’ve got an addictive personality so I become more careful of how I approach things.

Once class was through I was able to hang out at my dorm before my techno-history course at 10. Today we weren’t going to be taking notes but working on our campaign projects. I met up with my two fellow group members in class to discuss our project that was going to be due in class next week. We were going to be the first group doing a project that my professor was trying out for the first time. No pressure to make a good impression, right? lol. We had a lot of work to do and, ideally, only 3 days in class to talk about it. None of us had any experience in making campaigns for politicians, let alone for an imaginary candidate, so we were just going to have to pull together to do the best that we could. :/ The project was about integrating new media into a political campaign like Obama had done and the professor wanted us to try pitching the same type of campaign for our own candidates. My group was able to make some progress, which was good. Between the three of us we would divide up the 20-minute presentation into 6-8 minutes per person.

When we had a good handle what we were going to do, we decided to go our separate ways after class. I went over to the IT Center at Central to see if I could make any headway with my McAfee problem on my laptop. By the time I got over there, the battery was almost dead. I had been using the laptop all through working with my group and didn’t have the AC adapter with me. Since I’d bought my computer I’d never let it run down that low, yikes. I noticed that the guy working on my computer used some key combination to turn up the backlight so he could see the screen better. Anyways I got another of McAfee installed on my laptop while I was there. It took a while for the whole thing to download, but at least it was on there. I’d customized settings on my laptop to dim the screen when it wasn’t plugged in, so the guy turning up the light wasn’t necessarily going to help the battery. Well, no biggie. He had to see in order to fix it so I was in no position to complain. Once the process was over, the battery was only at 4%. Woo, here’s to not letting it get THAT low again. I wish that I could work over there… I heart computers and stuff related to them. Stuff like setting up WiFi’s no big deal fer meh…

It was bitterly cold out today and the wind made it even worse… I stuck my hands up my sleeves to keep them warm on the way back to my dorm. Once I arrived back at my dorm I called Clarissa to see if she’d want to go get lunch. Surprisingly she told me that she already was going to be there at 12. Nicole had already contacted her about lunch and she was already under the impression that I was going to be there too. I was baffled that I hadn’t had been called about going to lunch but once I got Facebook, I noticed that Nicole had posted a message on my wall rather than call me. Since I went straight to Central after class to get my laptop looked at, I didn’t have a chance to check Facebook. DERRR. Well, at least I was going to have company at lunch afterall. XD

I got to the Upper Caf close to noon, I’d beaten the both of them there. Last one to know about the arrangements but the first one to the meeting spot, woo! I called to check where they were and ran into Clarissa. We both yelled at Nicole before she entered the lower caf, a nice way to get her attention, lolz. For lunch I got the same wrap buffalo chicken wrap (‘cause I saw Nicole was going to get one), a cookie, and some chips. The last two items were impulse buys. I still had $30 on my Dining Dollars so it wasn’t that big of a deal.

I was wondering if we were going to get our guest privileges about those people who were messing around with the lighters… It hadn’t been resolved since we went on break and it wasn’t like anyone was going to turn themselves in over break either. Taking those facts into account, it was decided that we got our guest privileges back. Wewt. About time the punishment was over…it felt like privileges were gone since we got back from WINTER break.

I decided to hang out at my dorm for a bit before my next class at 20. As I entered the building to get by bag patted down, I noticed that there were a ton of people getting signed into and hanging around Bowditch. People were really taking advantage of the opportunity to get friends over to the dorms now that we got them back. While at my dorm, I looked up some of the old DOS games I used to play as I kid and downloaded them. There was a CD of Freeware games that my sister and I used to play as often as possible and now that I had my own, faster computer, I could get a few of them for myself. I was able to find “Raptor: Call of the Shadows,” “Sango Fighter,” and “Chip’s Challenge.” I played them a little while before I had to be off to Spanish.

It was a fairly easy class, afterall, it was the first day back since vacation. Nevertheless, I was grateful to be cut some slack in Spanish for once. To emphasize pronunciation, the professor had us repeat the word ‘especializacion’ a zillion times. It means ‘specialization’ in English, if you couldn’t tell. We went around the class telling everyone what our majors, or rather ‘especializaciones,’ were, The point that the professor was trying to make was that you have to pronounce all the syllables in Spanish words, but it was a pretty tough one to get a handle on. E-spe-ci-al-i-za-ci-on. Fun, huh?

Luckily that took up most of class so we didn’t really have to do any serious work, just seriously get our tongues tied into knots. Once I was through, I headed back to my dorm for a little while before PC. I was considering skipping dinner this evening…maybe scrounge up something from my food box to eat instead. The more time I spent in front of the computer, the higher chance I would feel like doing some work, or that’s what my theory was.

The PC ran longer than I expected. I forgot that we were warned at the last meeting that this one would be longer than average. The Constitution for the group was being edited so all members were to be present to hear and vote on the changes. Unfortunately, this was as important as it was boring: very. Since the meeting was so lengthy, my plan to head back to my dorm early for work was pointless so I just went to dinner anyways, at the very least just to see what was available. Dinner was lacking, unfortunately. The most that they were offering were long lines and no plates.

I retreated back to my dorm in an attempt to work on my paper, but had trouble staying on task. I found myself seeking out all sorts of things other than work to be preoccupied with. Not conducive to concentration no matter how you look at it… Took a depression test, for whatever reason. Just bored and couldn’t find anything else to do. Just getting really stressed over working on this stuff. So much was piling up. Finding work, doing classwork…and phone trouble on top of this wasn’t helping either.

I was up until 1 working on that paper. I jotted down things that were upsetting me between working on the essay. 1:15am it occurred to me to close Firefox as the Internet was helping to keep me from work rather than helping me finish it.