three forty five. the sky outside is beautiful. i almost never let natural light into my dorm, but today i've opened up my blinds to revel in the serenity of the lightning, the muffled light. there's a certain electricity in the air right before a storm comes through. i wish i could capture the feeling of ecstacy in a photograph....or a melody....or in words....

the rest of the mage group is in my dorm, but my character isn't up to bat right now. so i'm blogging to pass the time.

full circle. i have somehow inspired robert to start a blog, angel with broken wings. i'm sure that rose's blog did more inspiring than mine did, since hers has been up and running for so long.

ouch. my hair tangles too easily.

mage.

i was surfing about, and i found this on rose kwok's profile, and i knew i had to post it. that's the most unusual design i've ever seen for a pc.

solo's commentary on receptacle:
Raging Aardvark: don't tell me you're actually reading the site?
Raging Aardvark: it's intensely boring
MeatyTofu: i'm beginning to realize that
MeatyTofu: it is....
MeatyTofu: fascinating in its boredom
MeatyTofu: it amuses me to find that someone lives a life not unlike my own
MeatyTofu: and if boring is the word you choose for it...
MeatyTofu: well, then it is boring

and in general:
MeatyTofu: you are a very strange little man
MeatyTofu: i wouldn't like you so much otherwise

thanks, solo. i'm so glad that i can call you my friend.

Jonathan didn't mind the occasional punch in the face from the bullies at school. They didn't come often, since he was friends with the popular kids. Not as much as the other kids got, anyway. The kids that weren't part of the group he was in, they got beat up by the bullies a lot more.
But today was one of those days that the bullies came after him. Joseph and his two asshole friends. It really didn't matter if he ran or not, so he just let the two assholes hold him while Joseph slugged him in the gut and took his money.
Didn't matter. His lunch money was in his backpack anyway. Another punch in the gut. He coughed and dropped onto the grass. Didn't matter, he's had worse before, he kept telling himself. No one but the birds saw him cry in the playground as he remembered that it wasn't the punches he minded. It was the empty feeling he got afterward.

i made the mistake of drinking a caffinated beverage. now i can't sleep and i'm bored.

i found a post on bombing. it's a messy page, but the post is excellent. it's one of the ones listed under 9.14.2001. here's an excerpt:
"Anthony, who's four, was watching the TV so intently I thought his eyes were going to drop out of his head. Turned to me right after someone mentioned bombing, and said in his little voice 'what's bombing?'"

<--- i've added some more links over on that side for your entertainment, if anyone actually comes here. i found these sites quite amusing.

i realized that i forgot my roommate's birthday yesterday. it was awfully inconsiderate of me, since last year he told one of our mutual friends, who in turn told me. so i should have remembered. and he went back to richmond for the weekend, so i'm stuck without the ability to apologize. i'm really sorry, joe. =( your balloons are wilting in your closet.

on that note, happy five months, rose. may the road of happiness extend far into the distance. ^_^

i've been raiding my old aim conversation archive:
Raging Aardvark: well, thank you ever so much for listening to me
Boggboy: and thank you, for the same.

friends are those who give up their time to listen to you, and then thank you for talking to them. thank you so much for listening without judging.

i went to a recital tonight with vijay. it was a bassoon/piano duet that completely blew my mind. i've always loved the sound of oboe over other woodwinds, but tonight i have gained new respect for the bassoon. it was rich, sensual, and played so beautifully. as i sat there with my eyes closed and head tilted slightly upward, i could feel the melody dancing a rapturous dance with me. she grasped her dress through her evening glove as we spun about the recital hall to a frenzied liszt waltz. her tune was punctuated with laughter as we swung to her rag song. her warm, slow breath tickled my neck as we slow-danced to schumann. and when the ball was over, all i could think of was her voice. yeah, it was that good. ^_^

my muse awoke again today, when i was dancing with the music. my muse has been lethargic for quite some time, and today she began to tell me the tale of jonathan. i'll get around to writing down his story sooner or later. hopefully sooner, because his story is really worth telling. i just hope i'm good enough of a writer to do him justice.

tomorrow should be a good day for the following reasons:
1) it will be a saturday.
2) we are going to play mage tomorrow. i haven't played in a very long time.
3) my angel sanctuary scroll should be coming in the mail. that is, if the jester mail room actually puts the package notice slip in my mailbox before the mail center closes. which it won't. it never does.

"If you love someone, you don't want them to suffer. You want to take their sufferings on yourself. If even I feel this way, why doesn't God?"
— T. S. Elliot

i am trying to sleep. if the guys next door don't quit blasting their country music very soon, i will take a vorpal blade to them.

jester east first floor smells like rancid ketchup. the stairwell nearly made me puke when walking in and quickly rushing back out.

well, our first day collecting money was successful. we got $106.20 today to give to the disaster victims. good job, guys. now, if we can get the co-op to match our colletions, that would be damn cool.

i wanna shoot things. i didn't get my archery fix yesterday because the instructor was absent. he seems to be under the impression that without himself there, we'll all turn murderous and shoot each other on the range. but i really need my practice, cuz i can't even group well yet.

i found this amusing in my own cynical way. this is was in steve's profile:
"One must never forget the courage and bravery of the 19 arabs who sacrificed their lives for their country. " -- Jeff Cobb

jester east lobby smells like paint varnish. i'm considering drowning my woes in the psychoactive chemicals there. jester first floor smells like bleach and vomit, as usual. the stairwell......i have no idea what the hell the smell in the stairwell is.

sachin has put up a tribute to those who died in the tragedies. this is a good site, too.

here's something from jen:
Yangsome: I can spit the cheerios pretty far too!
Yangsome: and then they bounce back.

ameeta's word of the unspecified time period:
bildungsroman (n) - a novel about the moral and psychological growth of the main character

today's the big day. the first day red cross starts a project this year. i'm kinda excited, but at the same time...... i'm just about to go down to jester main concourse to take my shift at the collection table. will we collect much money? even enough to help a few people noticably? will we make a difference at all? i think it ironic that someone as morbid and cynical as i happen to be in red cross.

meanwhile, here's some stupid signs.

edited my blogger template to fit my personal whim, so the page looks a bit different now. as if you'd notice. it's only been up for an hour or so.

inspecting rose's site closely made me realize the existance of blogger. now that was excellent, cuz i've been wanting to put up a blog like she has for a long time, but was always too lazy to do so. thanks rose.

haven't talked to rose in a long time, until tonight. i almost forgot what a wonderful person she is. talking to her gets me thinking about things i usually am too thick-witted to think about. and looking up words like "orogenesis".

sometimes, talking really helps. instead of just going over and beating the shit out of the offending party.

i watched w's speech today. not bad, for someone who can't put five syllables together without stuttering. i guess he got some new speechwriters since his address on 9.11.2001. but i kept getting the feeling that he was preparing the nation to support a draft.

in my morbid curiosity, i have been looking up stuff on the selective service system. turns out, if there's a draft right now, i'd be exempt for the rest of the semester, and then i'm the first priority to be drafted. i'm too poor a physical specimen to be of any use during the war, i hope. the prospect of dying in battle is terrifying. but i'd not be adverse to alternate service, e.g. teaching, etc. this was somewhat reassuring, but the possibility remains that it's just propaganda.

the fig newtons are beckoning me, but i need real food. maybe i should finish figuring out how the hell to recognize palindromes in java, and then head to bed. i still gotta get up at 8:00 tomorrow to work the red cross collection table.