a request

God, please save me from the people who refuse to accept responsibility for their actions.

Transvestite Update!!

A week or two ago, I reported to you that I encountered two Hawaiian transvestites. Er, I encountered two Hawaiian transvestites a week or two ago and should have reported it to you but didn't!

Anyway, today I encountered my Hawaiian friend, who confirmed the existence of these mysterious creatures. He also told me the technical name: mahu. Now you know. Also, for the pc'er's, mahus are more or less accepted in Hawaii, and "they're nice." - Hawaiian friend

Also, this brave reporter is reporting covertly from the engineering student's lab. I would like to announce that I am now willing to consider a degree in engineering. The catalyst? I just overheard a few guys talking about their Vibrations homework.

Hmm....

Random Thought

There is something very special about being the first person to pee in a freshly-cleaned toilet.

Wow, it’s been a while.

According to, oh shit, hang on...ok, according to my records, I have not posted in over three months. Oops. I would apologize, but I'm taking 19 credits and working, so, fuck you, instead.

Since I last wrote:

It took another month to get my paycheck.

I found out the civil engineering students are incapable of simple mathematical operations.

I also found out that licking one's fingers and pinching a sparkler is not a very good method for putting it out.

I lost my wallet on the way to Boston. I lost my grip on reality on the way back to Las Vegas.

The TSA sucks.

Wells Fargo sucks.

School sucks.

I helped build a chuppa.

I got very sunburned doing so.

I now own a bonzai tree.

His name is Sherman.

He drinks a lot.

I'm taking three math classes.

And a basic programming class, although not a BASIC programming class. Hah! No one will get that.

Well, maybe one person will get that.

I am having some serious train of thought issues.

I have 2 tests, a presentaion, and a program to write this week.

I wonder if the two are related.

Oh, I prank-called a psychic.

Anyway, I am willing to write about one of these things by next week. Or something completely different. But I need a request, or I'm just going to take a bunch of pictures of Sherman and post them.

Fuck you, United Blood Services

Fuck you. Seriously.

I understand that I have a special blood type. I understand that while it is not the rarest, it is the most demended. I also understand that being CMV negative means that you can give my blood to babies and cancer patients, because it won't kill them.

That kind of makes me warm and squishy inside, so I don't mind (so much) being harassed about where I travel besides the US (nowhere, for the record), my sex life (non-existent, by the way), my recent tattoos and piercings (still only the ears!), and of course, whether I'm feeling well and healthy today. NEWSFLASH: If I feel crappy, do you really think I'm going to ask to be stuck with a needle and give the little asshole microbes another point of entry into my body? No!

Back to having that O-/CMV- blood. This means you should be treating me like a princess, not a peon.

To be clear, I fucking hate donating blood. It makes me feel like shit, the interview and paperwork takes at least as long the actual donation, and I feel like I've been ran over for the next day and a half. I have to keep thinking about poor little babies with parents that are too dumb to get pre-natal care until they actually pop, and I'm not sure how this causes babies to need blood, but I'm sure the root cause is stupidity. It helps if I think of soft little bunnies, too. They generally smell better.

What I really can't stand is doing a donation, and then being told "Don't donate any components for X weeks." Two days later, I get a phone call telling me there's a blood shortage, and asking if I could "come down and help".

Fuck you.

Ok, for starters, I can almost never just "come down and help". I get up either at 4:00 or 5:30, depending on whether or not I'm going to the gym, I get dressed, and be in my advisor's office by 7:30, but if I have any questions at all, I need to be there by 7:00 so that she has time to answer them and then prepare for the classes she's teaching. Then I do research until about 4:30. Sometimes, like today, I get to take a lunch break and go eat lunch with Lacie, but generally, I bring lunch or grab something, and continue working whilst I eat. At 4:30, I walk over to another building for class, and try to a little time to look over my notes, so that I might have a clue as to what's going on. At 6:30, when class is over, I drive home, which generally takes until 7:30, and I am usually exhausted enough to be in bed by 8:30. When the hell am I supposed to just "come down and help".

Another thing: I don't like you people; you're falsely nice, and that's obnoxious. I don't want to get a phone call at 8:46 on a Friday night to ask if I "can come down and help" when I'm scheduled to donate the next morning. Another thing, you notice I made that appointment online? It's because I don't like talking to you people. I am anti-social, or maybe I just don't like self-righteous dumb shits.

Here's my real rage: Why the hell are you calling me at 8:46 on a Friday night? I know I didn't have plans tonight, but there is a small possibility that I could have been busy, and that your interruption is very much unwanted. Just because I didn't go out somewhere, doesn't mean that I want the movie I'm watching at home to be interrupted by your inane, fake, drivel.

Leave me alone. I give you my blood. I'm not going to pretend to be nice to you.

*snap*

That is the noise that something--which runs from 1.5 inches below the lowest point of my left shoulder, across my spine, up the right side of neck and threads through my earlobe--made a few hours ago. Physiologists, please don't bother telling me that there is no such tendon, ligament, or nerve. I felt and heard it. Something snapped.

Maybe you've already listen to me complain about, but I'm under some stress right now, and I don't really have any remedies for it, since working out stopped killing my stress back in high school. I had an opportunity to go shooting a few weeks back, and I'm starting to wonder if I should have taken Josh up on his offer. There is something inately relaxing about holding a very big gun, point, and click, and boom, and something is now powder. I find it...empowering. (Sorry, I don't have any better jokes tonight.)

So, I'm saying to hell with it all. I'm already going on a few trips this fall, but I am way too stressed out. As I was washing my face to go to bed, I stopped and really looked at myself. And I realized something. Somewhere in the past two years, I really got old-looking. It's one thing when people tell you you look older than you do, but when you're objectively analyzing yourself, and realize that without makeup, you look 35+, it's pretty disheartening. For the record, I am 22.

I'm too on-edge, and I need a break. So I think that I am going to just deal with being poor and broke for the fall, cut out all of my extras, and take a small vacation where I don't have to deal with anyone. Preferably, I would go somewhere where no one spoke English, so that no one has a chance of saying anything to me to push me any further, but I don't like LA, and I don't have a passport, so I'll have to settle for 'accidentally' leaving my phone at home.

But seriously, I am determined to take a real vacation, with no point or purpose other than relaxation. I honestly think I need it at this point, before something else snaps...like the necks of (edited so as not be considered pre-meditation).

As for the anger sermon that I never got around to posting, I thought about it, and realized that it is part of a larger group of meditations I've been meaning to write. Don't worry, they'll be pre-fixed in the title as something obvious so that those who don't want to won't even be exposed to it. I'm even planning on looking up the Bible verses that I'll be referencing, and citing them more specifically than "somewhere in Matthew".

Until then, faithful (I'm pretending you find me interesting, instead of just slightly less boring than work) (also, another pun. Hah!) readers, good night, and may your sheets be cool and comfortable, and may you never wake with half a spider of your face.

Crazy ghost

I have decided it is not my computer that is possessed, but my office. I left the talk and type software on by accident while I went for water. When I came back, this gem was waiting for me.

"if I was a new and leave and do lose him as will pool in the is in a movie is a little and so if you know him or her her her her her her her her her her her her her I up"

I wonder where this is going. It would be interesting to know what sort of person would haunt a chemistry office in the afterlife. Just saying.

Yeah, baby!

My insomnia is back, hardcore!

My sleep total for the week is up to 4 hours. The hour and a half of it that I got last night was spent dreaming about watching a guy I knew in high school trip on acid while Perrin from the Wheel of Time series discussed blacksmithing with me.

Any help? And I mean for helping me sleep, not to get rid of my crack-tastic dreams.

Warning: Mildly Religious Content in This Week's Report

First of all: The funny bits -

Quote of the Week:

(over the phone) "Aynsley, is Pan's Labyrinth supposed to be in Spanish?" - not named to protect the guilty

Weekly Acheivement: I cleaned out my advisor's office. No seriously. She got there 3 years ago, and it was filthy. And she just never got around to cleaning it all out. I did, this week. And before you say anything about my bedroom, Lucy, I'd like to clarify: I believe in friendly clutter. Little jumbles of stuff help me think. This was completely disgusting. The waste beakers were overgrown with mold, and that's about the only healthy thing in there. I would post pictures, except I'm pretty sure she'd kill me for taking them, after I kept commenting how great it was going, and after every person in the building stopped by to see what was going on (the pile of trash in the hall was about 4 feet tall, 10 feet long, and sloping out 4 feet from the wall - just to give you an idea)...and congratulate her on "knowing how to pick them" and telling her what an amazing improvement it was.

To set up the religious bit: I am, in fact, a "Christian". Oddly enough, most people don't think I am, because there's a Bible verse says "By their deeds, you will know them." (I know it's in Matthew, I think Chapter 11, but I am far too lazy, er, efficient, to look it up [bonus points if you know what I'm referencing]); and therefore, I don't really go around advertising...usually. I don't wear crosses. I don't carry a Bible, partially because I didn't go pick out my own for graduation, so my youth group leader picked one out for me...meaning some sort of women's study Bible that is supposed to be inspirational, but I find to be generally offensive, instead. As Miche said, it has a little slant to it. So back to knowing them by their deeds: I am generally mean, and that usually keeps people from thinking any nice thoughts about me.

The next bit of set up: My grandmother thinks I am going to Hell. Not because I am mean, but because I think the existence of "Satan" is a crock. I've discussed this with a few people, and the thing I agree with the most, that I've heard, is that the devil is a metaphor for free will. Which makes a lot of sense to me. What is someone talking about when they reference their demons? Another way I see it is that we've all got evil in us, and good, and it's up to us to choose "which wolf to feed".

So, you might ask what brings all of this up? Jerry Falwell. Everyone seems to either hate him or love him. So, I've got some news for all of you who felt the need to celebrate or cry over his death:

He's just a man.

That's right, mortal, human, whatever you want to call him, he's no more or less than that.

To the people celebrating his death: Are you so small and petty inside that someone, who has more than likely never actually affected you more directly than condemning your lifestyle, dying makes you happy? Oh, and condemning someone's choices...I hate to break it to you, but that's free speech. If we live in a country where it is okay to display a banner that says "Bong Hits 4 Jesus" at a school parade just to do so, then speaking one's opinion of someone's choices has to be okay, too. If you don't like it, don't listen. Or better yet, defend yourself. If you honestly believe that what you're doing that's being condemned is okay, then find the person who is doing the condemning and tell them so. Argue with them. If you can defend yourself intelligently and articulately, you'll win more respect for yourself than by screaming that someone is an idiot or celebrating their death.

Now, for the people crying over the death of Mr. Falwell: My grandmother was upset because "he was the only one anymore that would stand up and say things weren't right". I assume that this is going to the viewpoint of those who are dramatically mourning his death, and I'm going to take a leap of faith and assume that the majority of those mourners are conservative Christians. (I am not saying that all conservative Christians are reacting this way, or even the majority, but the ones reacting, more than likely, are going to be conservative Christians. Please make sure you have the subsets straight before you send me a 3-page e-mail telling me that you are a conservative Christian, you hated Jerry Falwell, and that I am an asshole in general. Also, re-read the above paragraph.) You'll excuse me for again being too...efficient...to cite exact book and verse, but didn't Jesus sup with tax collectors and prostitutes (i.e: the most hated people in those days)? Wasn't Jesus's message more or less one of love, compassion, and forgiveness, not hate and accusation? Jerry Falwell did do a lot of condemning. Maybe he should have tried loving those he condemned instead. Maybe common sense, something about more flies with honey, might have made more sense.

And now, I feel compelled to get on my soapbox for the one person who hasn't stopped reading already. If Satan exists, it's only the evil inside each of us. The hate, the scorn, contempt, pride, and desire to hurt, that we need to fight. To be clear, we should fight it in ourselves. I'm not going to tell anyone where I think they are lacking, unless they honestly want my opinion because they are trying to improve themselves. I believe in that "Thou shalt not judge." Another point, I will evaluate people, and decide whether or not I want to be around them, but I'm not going to tell someone how to live. If they want to know why I make the choices I do, I'll do my best to explain, but when they try to tell me why I'm wrong for living as I do, they cross a line. If they cross it too many times, and I will drop them from my life. I can believe in forgiveness without suffering what I consider abuse. You don't have to forgive someone who not only doesn't ask for it, but doesn't think there is anything wrong with their behavior. It's nice to be able to do that, but most people who do, actually do it in such a pompous and arrogant manner that they only offend their opponents further.

If you actually made it through all of this, thank you. I'm not saying that this is what everyone has to believe, but that this is the truth, as far as I have been able to discern, not the absolute truth. This is what I live by. Or try to. You see, I'm human, too, and don't always manage to stick with what is good and pure and perfect.

And if you've read this, and want to talk to me about anything I've written here, I'm more than happy to talk, but more importantly, listen. I think that this was my chance to talk, and I'd love to hear anyone's response, as long as it follows the guidelines I stated above.

Next week's sermon focuses on anger. I might even properly cite my sources next time.

The Blow Job Poll

I have 'upgraded' my account to the ad-infested Plus level for the specific purpose of creating this poll. You should take it before I delete it to kill the ads.

Do you wish for your identity to be quantified? (Hah! I'm taking discrete math this semester!)
amandaea129 -- Sure
__yossarian -- uhh
jokersdown -- ::shrug::
strsrfrgrl -- huh?
galaxylily -- no
itsallagame75 -- Sure why not?
roseclaw -- never...which is why I'm doing this
saekokato -- math hurts my head

Rate your boredom at this moment. (1 being procrastinating, 10 being so bored that you are taking a poll that someone's brother's girlfriend's hairstylist's niece sent to you because you are that damn bored.)
amandaea129 -- 9
__yossarian -- 1
jokersdown -- 5
strsrfrgrl -- 4
galaxylily -- 3
rolynddeschayne -- 2
itsallagame75 -- 1
roseclaw -- 5
saekokato -- 4

Do you consider blow jobs to be passionate?
amandaea129 -- No
__yossarian -- I am male.
jokersdown -- I am male.
strsrfrgrl -- No
galaxylily -- Yes
rolynddeschayne -- I am male.
itsallagame75 -- No
roseclaw -- Yes
saekokato -- No

Do you consider blow jobs to be passionate?
amandaea129 -- No
__yossarian -- see above
jokersdown -- see above
strsrfrgrl -- see above.... No
galaxylily -- yes
rolynddeschayne -- I am male.
itsallagame75 -- you already asked this??
saekokato -- you and rebecca hurt my head. lots.

Do you consider blow jobs to be passionate? (check as many as you like)
amandaea129 -- No, I am female, I have never received a blow job, so I cannot judge.
__yossarian -- I am male
jokersdown -- Yes, No, I am male, I have never given a blow job, so I cannot judge.
strsrfrgrl -- No, I am female, I have never received a blow job, so I cannot judge., I have never given a blow job, so I cannot judge.
galaxylily -- Yes, I am female
rolynddeschayne -- I am male, I have never received a blow job, so I cannot judge., I have never given a blow job, so I cannot judge.
itsallagame75 -- No, I am female
roseclaw -- Yes
saekokato -- I am female


amandaea129 -- I plead the fifth
__yossarian -- 99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999
jokersdown -- 8
strsrfrgrl -- 2 or 3, maybe.... nd they were gay boy-on-boy porn
galaxylily -- 13
rolynddeschayne -- oh sweet christ, I don't think there's a number for that
itsallagame75 -- 1
roseclaw -- less films than stories
saekokato -- 2

Oh, Google!

Gmail's spell checker recognize's "horseshit" but not "timeslot". Hmmm.

For Samm!

The internet is truly for porn.

What doesn't kill you must be petted until fluffy.

http://onnachance.com/quiz/fae.htm

Take this quiz, solely for the questions.

Ah, fuck it. This is too good to wait for Wednesday. (I'd probably forget.)

http://www.darwinawards.com/darwin/darwin2006-09.html

Message Board Stupidity

...whoa.

How would you like to have to file the following non-conformance report:

"Work to assigned document (IPLV-017) was performed prior to training by reading. Work was performed on a quality-affecting task; however, the work itself was not quality-affecting, as the pipettor in question (ID#:2380745) was used for a purpose not intended by the manufacturer of the pipettor, nor by the author of IPLV-017."

I almost wish I was making this up.

AIDS vs. Bipedal...-ism

Would it be better to get AIDS or lose a leg?

The reason I ask, see, is, me and my vivid imagination, we ahh, well, you probably know that part. Anyway, any night that I've stayed late at the library, (which is turning into most nights) I have to walk back the parking garage to get to my car. And I frequently imagine (not someone sneaking up behind me, because I could handle that with an elbow and a right hook), no my imagination goes for gold and the most frequent thought that pops into my head is someone shooting me with a tranq dart. Someone would really have to hate me to go to all that effort, and since I'm so loveable, this is probably wasted angst.

Anyway, the thought of tonight was, "What if it was a dart, not a tranq dart, but one loaded with a nasty virus, say AIDS?"

At which point, I realized that there wouldn't really be any bouncing back from that, because AIDS is pretty serious. Unless it hit me it the leg, and I badass-ly tourniqueted and lopped my leg off with a pocket knife. That might save me from the AIDS. Y'know, if I maim myself quickly enough.

So it brings me back to my original question. Would it be better to get AIDS or lose a leg?

Why, yes, it was a long day, why do you ask?

Oh, and for the record, if I ever do anything stupid enough to get AIDS, I will shoot myself.

Webcampus is UNLV's online something or other that hosts the online classes, or the online components of classes. I just won a flamewar on the educational psychology message board. My cousin is drinkingand talking about the fun of cutting flat worms in half, so she is unable to judge my geekiness. Anyone else want to estimate?

Crazy Bird

Okay, Rebecca, what's trying to eat my fish?

http://ars.userfriendly.org/cartoons/?id=19990314

It's all so clear now.

Added: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdUUx5FdySs

This was so sweet, it actually made me smile.

Fun With Math

1. Start with the given:

CUTE PURPLE DINOSAUR

2. Change all the U's to V's (which is proper latin anyway):

CVTE PVRPLE DINOSAVR

3. Extract all Roman numerals:

CVVLDIV

4. Convert to Arabic numbers:

100 5 5 50 500 1 5

5. Add all the numbers:

666

6. Thus Barney is Satan.