November

When I was smaller, probably in the third or forth grade, I was not as hygienically conscious as I am now, and since I am not particularly hygienically conscious now, that means I was basically a slob. My toothbrush, which I used daily (thanks, Ma!) was rinsed every time I used it, but I was not always careful to remove the little ring of toothpaste grime that would end up at the top of the handle. As a result, the little ring became a slightly larger ring and so on. This is all very gross, and looking back, I honestly can’t imagine sticking that thing in my mouth, but apparently I did and survived. I recall very vividly though, the exact moment when I became conscious of the fact that my toothbrush was gross though, which is unusual. Usually these sort of realizations come slowly, but this one was immediate. I spent the night at a friend’s house, and we left our tooth brushes on the edge of her sink after brushing our teeth, and then we ran off to do children things. The next morning, when I went to get my stuff together, her mother handed me my toothbrush, which she had cleaned. I don’t think she said anything about cleaning it, or about the toothbrush all, actually, but even that young, I was completely shamed. Even today when I brushed my teeth, I made sure to clean all (and I mean all) of that toothpaste grime off the handle of my toothbrush.

I have a (hopefully) mild infection in my lip, and it’s swollen like nobody’s business. It looks like I got punched hard in the mouth, and I think I’m going to tell anyone who asks that I got into a fight with a carnie. Hopefully icing it up will work, though, and I won’t need to lie to anyone.

My dad has taken to shooting the tip of the cat’s tail with a rubber band, which I disapprove of. On the other hand, it is amazing to watch the cat jump four feet straight in the air.

The previous was written quite a while ago, but since I’m not going to be writing on my blog much for the month of November, I figured that I’d put it up. I’m doing the NaNoWriMo deal, and so I’m pretty busy.

I would also like to express my deep displeasure at the (probable) passing of the bill which will eliminate the rights of a minority group in the California, and I’ll probably talk more about it later.

Crawfish Shins and WWI

I associate Kevin Bacon with Adam Smith. There is no reason for this. One is a top rate actor, as anyone who has seen Tremors will agree, and the other is a drop-dead-sexy economist that was born, alas, far too early. Unfortunately, this association is seriously screwing with my ability to take the subjects of history and economics seriously because someone will say that Adam Smith advocated a free market capitalism system, and I’ll be hearing Footloose in my head, which in turn leads to me thinking about God, The Devil, and Bob, and then I’m like, oh, French Stewart, and I get dragged back to earth and I’m like, dude, who cares about Europe in the late 19th century, we could be talking about 3rd Rock from the Sun!

Karl Marx had some mad crazy eyebrows going on there.

So for the first time this quarter I’m going to take my history notes on my computer, instead of using the more traditional, tried and true, pen on paper method. There are some downsides to each note-taking technique. If I write them by hand, I waste paper, ink, and I doodle all over everything. If I type them, I am unable to draw helpful diagrams, and I run the risk of, oh, say writing something frivolous instead of actually taking notes on the World Wars. I think that once I actually start bringing my tablet to take notes with, things will get better. I have no logical reason to think this, but I’m pretty sure it’s true anyway.

Sexist music makes me feel good inside. I know that it shouldn’t, but it does. I be that I could examine the reasons for this and find deep and convoluted self-loathing or some such, but that might ruin the fun.

Yesterday while I walked from my chemistry lab to my car, I saw six black widow spiders. Honestly, they’re getting ridiculous. Where are the lizards when you need them?

I got kicked in the shins, and it hurts. I doubt it was intentional.

I had a fascinating dream last night. There was a white swimming pool, which had a couple of crawfish in it. Once I got in, though, I realized that there were hundreds of them, but most of them were clear-white instead of reddish orange. In the dream I thought to myself that while the clear-white must help them in their quest for camouflage, but they must have crazy high rates of mutation from damage done to their DNA from the sun. There was a man there who was catching some of the clear crawfish, and another man came over and told him that his grandmother had kept beads in their pool for years, and now they had crawfish that were blue and pink in order to match their surroundings, so the first man went to collect a few of those too.

I wonder now how hard it would be to breed crawfish in designer colors. It would be an interesting project.

I was thinking some more about the lesbian comment I made yesterday, which is unusual. Not for me to make a lesbian comment, but for me to be thinking about something I already said. I realized that I wanted to clarify it (more to myself, than to anyone else). It isn’t that I think that all Christians are against gay people, or indeed that there are no gay Christians, because, duh, that’s not true. What I meant was that I think it’s ridiculous for people to use religion as an argument against gay marriage, and really, it’s the only argument that’s being made. That the government is, in many places, taking the religious arguments against anything seriously into consideration makes me very upset because we are supposed to uphold a separation of church and state in our country, but we don’t. That was my point, but I think I may have made it in a less than effective way yesterday in my lame attempt at comedy.

Gay Cramping

I hate it when I reach that point where I feel like if I don’t wash my face right this second, right this instant, that I’m going to have to claw it off completely because the oil is driving me absolutely crazy. I just reach this point where there is absolutely nothing else I can think about, and the oil on my face completely consumes all of the me that there is. I hate this feeling not so much because of the oily feeling itself, but because once I reach this point, washing it won’t make it better. It should, but it doesn’t. Instead, washing it just makes my face feel pulled tight and dry, and then my T-zone gets flakey and it makes me want to kill whoever invented hormones.

The worst part about having a computer make an error is that I’m always sure that it’s somehow my fault. I mean, I don’t understand how computers work. I really don’t. Like, I have a pretty good general idea, but if you were to ask me about anything specifically, I’d be lost. And that’s so bizarre when you really think about it, because it’s something that I use pretty much every day. I like the word bizarre because it sounds British, which is a dumb thing to say, because, hello, I’m speaking English. But, it’s so bizarre, because you’d think that in order to use something that is this complicated, I’d have to understand it better, but I don’t.

I was pretty much content to feel this way, too, but when I was in my history lecture the other day, the professor mentioned that he didn’t understand how cell phones work. How, he asked us, could the signals know which phone to go to? Obviously they do, but how? And I realized then that I don’t want to go through life thinking little sound fairies bring me the voices through my phone. That’s not good enough.

The other day at work, I was involved with a task that entailed standing still for long stretches of time and I got total leg cramps in both legs. I have never experienced anything like that before, and I think that it happened because of the “protect traditional marriage” garbage that was playing over the loudspeakers. No, my workplace is not that politically charged, there was a paid advertisement (imagine that said advert-is-ment, not adver-tize-ment) playing on the radio. That didn’t change the fact that I felt rage.

I don’t understand how anyone could fall for the fail of logic that was displayed in the ad. I mean, honestly, if a person doesn’t like gay marriage, why do they think that gay people would want to marry them? And it isn’t as though the lesbians are going to say, “Gee, I guess if I can’t marry my lovely woman here, I’ll have to find me a man to go be all up in the Christianity with.”

I like drinking water, but the downside is that it makes you pee. The upside is that you don’t die.

Nazi with a Side of Chicken

So I’m tired of people thinking that evolutionists are in favor of Social Darwinism. It’s definitely insulting to me. I mean, honestly, the theory of evolution has nothing to do with Social Darwinism except the name. I recently heard evolution described as the survival of the fit enough, and I think that’s an absolutely brilliant way to put it, because it’s so true.

I don’t really want to go to work today. I work at a craft store now, and it’s really not bad work, but I had three days in a row off, and that makes going back hard. Especially now that I have school going on, too. I don’t know if I’m going to continue to work while I have school, but I think I will. It hasn’t been bad so far, but one we get down to crunch time, I might feel differently. I’d just feel bad bailing on the store during the holiday rush, but that’s the way it might have to go down.

So our blender is totally broken, and it sucks. I was trying to make myself a coffee drink this morning, and all I managed to do was get the counters all sticky with coffee-dulce-de-leche scented muck. I really did almost cry. I feel bad for my dad, who was trying to enjoy his (hot, blender-free) coffee, and got caught in the verbal cross-fire between me and the blender. Not really fair for anyone.

I’ve had the same cold for about ten days now, and I’m getting sick of it. Seriously, this is unnecessary. I don’t need the lingering cough or drippy nose. I just don’t. I’m so over it.
I’m not over orange chicken, though. Man, I swear, that stuff is slightly spicy crack. It makes my mouth feel slightly funny when I eat it, but I think that’s just part of the appeal. Also, fried rice. Whoever came up with that idea gets my kudos.

My butt hurts right now. I’m sitting in the lobby thing of a lecture hall on campus, waiting for some unknown class to be over and leave so I can go sit and learn all about the history of the 20th century. Nazis for the lose, man. I know how this goes down. Some Franz guy gets assassinated and WWI is like pachoo and then all get’s quiet on the western front and a goose dies, and then we have a great depression and the southwest all blows away and then the Nazis put all the Jews, gays and gypsies (sounds like my kind of party) in camps (no longer a party) and make the rest of the world mad by trying to take it over, and then they lose because we’re too awesome, and something about Japan and bombs. Actually, that’s about where my timeline of the 20th century ends. I mean, until I’m born, then it gets interesting again. In all seriousness though, I really don’t know enough about the later half of the 1900s, because my history classes never got up that high before, and I’m a lazy weenie who doesn’t really care.

In other news, I think I want to take some archeology/paleontology classes in the future. I should look into that. I’m getting all re-interested in dinosaurs again. Darn you, National Geographic. Darn you!