It appears that this semester, I may be in extreme danger of oversubscribing myself. Let's take a look.
~Last Semester~
*13 Units, 5 of which were ridiculously easy
*Volunteering at radio
*Dealing with my very first semester by myself
~This Semester~
*18 Units, 4 of which are ridiculously easy
*Volunteering at radio
*Joining HKN (EECS honor society)
*Joining Students for Sensible Drug Policy
*Joining OCF staff (Open Computing Facility)
*Joining Nerd Noise
Actually, Nerd Noise hasn't happened yet, so perhaps I shouldn't put it on there. But isn't it so much more dramatic? This is a club for nerds who like indie rock. Two words: Fuckin' A.
So at this point in time, I've finally completed my first round of midterms, and I have Physics homeowork and Music homework due tomorrow. It's a good thing I'm such a fuckin' nerd and I make time to update this thingie.
So...this would be bad. I'm not too worried about CS, since all of my mistakes were stupid ones, attributable to...stupidity, I suppose. But it's not a big conceptual issue. Math, I'm a little worried, especially since I don't have the time (or the desire) to study as much as I should. MCB, I'm chill. I feel like I should be spending a lot more time on music, since I'm going to be minoring in it and I really suck at it. Physics...well, Physics is physics.
Speaking of which, my homework is due in 18 hours.
How much can you really know about a person if you only read what they write? Enough to admire them? Enough to fall in love with them? The more I think about it, the more I feel like my log doesn't completely portray who I am, but rather a (slightly) better version of myself. Maybe more important, a little bit less of an asshole. But any way you slice it something in the vein of a weblog isn't able to convey the nuances of everyday life.
So how well do I know these people that I've never spoken to? You read what they have to say, you follow the course of their life, but you don't know them. You can't see them smile at your jokes, or watch them interact with people. You don't see how they walk down the street - what it conveys about who they are. Does watching a person for an hour reveal more about their character than reading their own self-presentation?
It just makes me think, you feel like you know these people whose lives you read. But I don't feel like people know me inside and out. I don't think reading a daily update, or even chatting holds a candle to a real life conversation. The tangible observations of a person, the first impression, the absurd judgments about who they are based on insignificant factors. But do the insignificant factors matter? Is it better to have an exchange of thought on an ethereal plane or a relationship fraught with the pitfalls of reality?
I remember one of the biggest letdowns for me was after the summer of my Junior year. A good friend of mine had been in New York for some absurd summer program, and we'd sent many long, revealing e-mails to each other. By the time it had ended, I felt like we were closer than ever before. I was excited when she came back, but the first time we tried to hang out, my expectations were too high. Our expectations were too high. It fucking sucked, to end this melodramatic nonsense. Reality was too different from the exchanges; my flippant, thoughtless remarks didn't go along with her sense of who I was.
Here I am, sitting in the computer lab during college prime time - 10:30 in the P.M. It seems like any time I try to update from my room, I end up distracted by any number of things - homework, chatting, porn. Now, I'm free from these distractions and able to blissfully recall my day.
I've been skipping physics lately, as it is undeniably my most boring class. Our dimwitted professor can't handle the intricacies of the course he's teaching, and at random times subjects to class to several minutes of absolute silence while he tries to compute an integral at the front of the room. So I got to wake up a little later today, at 10:30 in the A.M.
In Math class, I had to face the music about "cheating" on my midterm. Well, I'm still hesitant to call it cheating, but I did get more points than I deserved on said exam, because for some inconceivable twist of fate my Math GSI can't add correctly. Regardless, I thought Andy (said GSI) would put some thought into what had happened, but instead he just looked at the exam and said "Oh, sorry, I'll change that for you," and that was the end of it. In fact, I had to go out of my way for him to do this, because despite e-mailing him about it, he didn't approach me in class. This engenders a great big "what the fuck" in me, because I was under the impression that the guy giving me a grade would be concerned about his mistake. Oh, well. At least I can be self-congratulatory on my strong moral fiber.
That reminds me of the one chess tournament I went to. I'm a terrible chess player. I don't really know why I was at that competition. Regardless, I was there, and I was playing against someone even worse than me, and beating the ever-living shit out of him. To be quite clear, he didn't have any pieces left. Still, he wouldn't give up, regardless of how fucked he was. Rather than praise his indomitable spirit, however, I cursed the fact that he was running down my clock. Minutes past, and I couldn't fucking mate him. In fact, it was getting to the point where he might beat me, and he starts getting crazy and moving his king into check. Being a chess virgin, I had no idea that this sort of error resulted in more time for me, so I just whapped my clock again as fast as possible and told him to move again. So eventually, we're the only two people left playing in this huge gymnasium, and the whole world is watching us. Him fucking up like that, on his last legs, me pathetically unable to beat him. Then this old guy that's running the tournament strolls on down and tells me that I get two entire minutes for each of his fuck-ups. Ecstatic, I proceed to beat him to a bloody, kingless pulp. Afterwards, the same guy approaches me with the proposition that I make the game a tie, because I'm not really playing for any school, and wasn't it such a close game anyway? By this point I didn't give a fuck, so I just conceded my victory. It was just a triviality to me; I knew I'd won. But what really steamed my vegetables was when the awards were passed out, and the same old guy from before starts pontificating about being a good sport. Having good sportsmanship. Doing the right thing. And I'm thinking, yeah, he's going to call me up to the stage. But instead, he calls some fuckin' 8 year old up who did some trivial thing like asking him what the correct rule was for his obscure situation. I did the right thing, I had strong moral fiber, I conceded my victory to a kid on this guy's team, and he didn't give a shit. Fuckin' life, man.
After Math I went to MCB and Physics. Things happened, as they tend to do. Presti wore a shirt that said "Coca no es droga", and Greg my precocious 17-year old GSI coughed a couple of times on my paper. Lab was slower than usual, inspiring me to read physics, which turned out to be one of the only things more boring than sitting in a computer lab poised to help those who want no help.
Later this evening I sorted some records, and at the request of one with good taste listened to a Brian Eno album in it's entirety. Another Green World. It was something else. I closed my eyes and let it sweep over me. This is why radio is good - I can listen to new (well, old) music that I would never hear otherwise. So yes, go to your local radio station and spend an hour listening to a Brian Eno album. I did, and look at me now!
When I finally get my own show, I'm going to play the most obscure, funny ass shit this side of…whatever comes at the end of that expression. I was sorting carts and came across some anti-drug propaganda. The Cartoon All-Stars doing "Just Say No". Man, that's gotta be good. Perhaps not as good as "I Lost My Cookie on the Dance Floor" by the Cookie Monster, but damn good.
"Where's my cookie? Can you help me find my cookie…Please?"
Mecca Normal - Throw Gold
Channel 3 - Some Punk Song I Don't Remember that "the Majority Whip" played on KALX
Radiohead - High & Dry
