viernes, mayo 31, 2002
I came home this afternoon with some computer art that I wanted to put on my computer. But there's a problem with my A: drive. So after much drive-changing, I finally called the tech support.
The verdict: There's a new A: drive headed my way.
And I ought to upgrade my warranty stuff, as it'll expire on July 11.
posted at 17:29 ||
An Evening at the Pops
Okay, so maybe not the Pops, but it was fun. The concert went well. Both of them.
Then afterward the Burkes and us went to Hob-Nob.
I listened to Cake last night to get to sleep. Woke up with it on the brain...
Reluctantly crouched, at the starting line
Engines humping and thumping in time
the green light flashes, the flag goes up
churning and burning, they yearn for the cup
they deftly maneuver, and muscle for rank
fuel burning fast on an empty tank
reckless, and wild they pour through the turns
their prowess is potent, and secretly stern
as they speed through the finish, the flags go down
the fans get up and they get out of town
the arena is empty, except for one man
still driving and striving, as fast as he can
the sun has gone down and the moon has come up
and long ago somebody left with the cup
but he's driving and striving and hugging the turns
and thinking of someone for whom he still burns
he's going the distance
he's gonig for speed
she's all alone
all alone in a time of need
posted at 10:13 ||
jueves, mayo 30, 2002
Okay, that's it. The comments are comin' off, folks. You had your chance.
Last night: big fight. Ended up with my computer being unplugged because the brother decided that if I wasn't going to let him use anything of mine, he wasn't going to let me use anything of his (i.e. surge protector). So my computer remains unplugged, but I don't care.
I really should think about this, thouugh. I mean, we've been fighting over this thing since I got it nearly a year ago.
He must subconsciously think that I bought it for him. Or something. But I didn't. I got it so that I could do m work faster for the paper. Which ended up falling through.
So now I use it for my own personal use: blogging, email, chatting, staying connected, doing my homework...You know, the works.
Maybe it should forfeit it to him for a week or something? See what happens. See how reluctant he is to give it back to me. I'd have to have him sign a contract, of course. But it will be interesting to see what transpires.
I'll let you know how it goes.
posted at 11:03 ||
miércoles, mayo 29, 2002
I am as God
posted at 10:57 ||
lunes, mayo 27, 2002
Oh, the Irony
- Coming home from the gym this evening, I was at a stoplight when a nice-looking car pulled up beside me. On the back window was a prominent Star of David. I thought it ironic that this icon was used in the Third Reich to point out Jews for persecution; now it's being used as a symbol of heritage. Don't get me wrong; I'm not an anti-Semite. I'm just pointing out the irony of the situation.
- A bit later coming home from the gym, Nathaniel was talking about how it's annoying that one of his friends plays the same song over and over again. I said "Imagine that..." and it slipped right over his head. Dad got it, though, and gave me a poke.
I'm waiting for someone to get online with whom I have English so I can find out the grammar assignment.
posted at 20:46 ||
domingo, mayo 26, 2002
Oh What Fun...
Well, it was a blast. So much so that after five minutes of being at home, I realised that I couldn't go visit anyone for a laugh or a good round of "Your Mom" "No, your Mom" or "And there was much rejoicing. yay", and became bored. So I thought I'd share my experience with you...are you ready?
Fun. Was woken up (is that even grammatically correct?) ten minutes till five, which was when my alarm was set to. Sponge-bathed, ate a hasty breakfast, got my stuff together, and left for band room. Got on bus. Left school. Watched: Rat Race, O Brother, Where Art Thou?, and half of Princess Diaries. Stopped at a mall to eat lunch. Went to museum, which was cool. Got to hotel, went swimming, eyes burned from chlorine. Went to Jillian's. Ate, went bowling, went to hotel, watched Real Sex Umpteen (very strange), Went to sleep.
Woke up, took my breakfast, left for King's Island. Rode all rides worth riding within 2.5 hours. Got nauseous on the Top Gun and the Vortex and the stupid comic book/video game ride...Went up in Eiffel Tower, spent about $25...maybe? Shrieked like a woman. Got rained on. Bought a cool t-shirt. Left. Went to hotel and watched half of Lord of the Rings. Fell asleep.
Woke up. Took my breakfast. Left for aquarium. Ate lunch. Left aquarium. Went to mall that we went to on Friday. Found a cool jacket at the Gap, but it costed like $50. I woulda got it if it didn't cost so much...Left the mall. Watched the rest of Princess Diaries and Coyote Ugly, which is the dumbest movie in the world. Got crazy toward the end of the ride ("we've got cabin fever/we're losing our bananas").
posted at 21:09 ||
jueves, mayo 23, 2002
For those that's interested (and bored enough), ye can kindly check out my packing list.
posted at 20:05 ||
Yeah, yeah, yeah...
So I'm sitting here in History with nothing to do, so I said to myself "Self, why don't you blog?". So here I am.
What to blog about I have no idea.
I filled up a whole sheet of my babblings in Math Analysis this morning, but the catch is that it was all in Spanish. Yup.
Can't I please just go home? Please? PLEASE!? I'm going crazy. I want some time at home by myself, so I don't have to worry about bumping into people who are moving around.
I need to start running soon. I think I shall start next weekend, which is the last weekend during the 2001-2002 school year. Yup.
Tomorrow I leave for Cincinnati with the Gate City High School Band. Woop woop. I hope I have a good time.
If I don't start getting comments within a week of this post, I'm going to take the comments thing off.
posted at 10:56 ||
miércoles, mayo 22, 2002
That pretty much sums it up.
posted at 22:51 ||
martes, mayo 21, 2002
I'm tired of who I am. I plan to change this summer. I'm going to spend the two months becoming physically fit. I'm gonna run every day that I can, I'm gonan stretch and do push-ups and ab stuff and shoulder dips (my ultimate goal is to be so..in shape by summer's end that people don't recognize me at school). And I'm gonna start becoming more limber. I'm gonna work on stretching. I know it's gonna hurt, but I have to push through the pain. Or something.
God dammit. This is the second week in a row that Andy Richter hasn't come on. Aaaargh! People don't know good television.
At least the Real World is coming on.
posted at 21:10 ||
A Little Too Much
It's only Tuesday...ugh.
I've been reviewing for the goddamned A.P. final coming up two weeks from now. I know nothing about the Gilded Age. Poor me. I shall have to read those chapters again...yes...
I talked to Rebecca last night. It was fun. Nothing really enlightening except for the fact that she's coming down on Friday, and I'm leaving on Friday, and she's leaving on Sunday, and I'm getting back on Sunday. Downer.
Uh...I was woken up this morning by Mom asking if I knew why Zach Taylor's mother had left a message on the machine for me. It turns out that she's with the American Legion Auxilliary or something and on Sunda they need a trumpet player to play taps. I told her that I won't be there, and that Mr. Fleming won't either because he's going on the band trip with us. Downer. So I gave her the names of two J's that I know that play trumpet. Hopefully they'll be up for it. I also have to ask Mr. Fleming if he knows of any trumpet players who would be available for this Sunday.
The bell is about to ring.
posted at 11:32 ||
lunes, mayo 20, 2002
According to my friend Andrew, that last post may be a little too much. And he may be right.
So I'm gonna give it a week.
The last post was a direct reaction of last night. Last night my brother threw a fit because he put one pair of jeans in with my other seven pairs, and I just happened to have a pen in my pocket that came loose. He threw a ballistic fit. It ended up with me taking everything of his and getting it off my desk, and he took all of my empty CD cases and put them out of his CD thingy. Then I thought about taking all of his games off of my computer, but I had already turned it off, so it wouldn't have produced the dramatic effect I wanted.
Then he was up till fucking twleve in the morning with Cat Stevens and Led Zepplin on.
I was livid.
But one more row like that and I swear to Jebus that I will make him sign that goddamn thing to use my computer.
Tyler Lane's brother was at school this morning, and he had the most interesting tale about going to college in Montana. I believe it's worthy of This American Life. In fact, I may get him to record that on tape...or something.
That would be awesome.
Oh! I drove to school today. Yay.
A new counter for you.
Days left of school: 10.
A respite seems to be coming ever nearer.
posted at 20:48 ||
- The owner has ultimate discretion of whether or not anyone may use the computer.
- The user shall agree with the owner on a specific time frame in which to use the computer, which is to be no more than three hours collectively.
- The user may insert compact discs (CDs) and 3.5" floppy disks (disks) as needed. However, the user may not leave anything on or in the computer after use; in other words, the user may download or save as needed, but after time is up, it must be taken off of the computer and all disks and CDs are to be removed from the computer. Internet cache not included.
- Any item (CD, disk, etc.) the user leaves on or about the desk of the owner is done at the discretion of the user. The owner is not responsible for any items damaged, lost, stolen, or otherwise devalued.
- If the owner declares at any time that he needs to use the computer, the user must within ten minutes comply with the request of the owner. Compensation may or may not be distributed.
- This list may be amended any time exclusively by the owner.
If the user agrees to these terms by signing below, then use of the computer is granted.
posted at 11:21 ||
domingo, mayo 19, 2002
A Post Before Doing My Laundry
Indeed. I desparately need to do laundry. I haven't worn clean laundry for quite some time.
Don't you just love Audrey Hepburn? Breakfast at Tiffany's is on right now. I love that movie. Especially the party scene.
Here's what the temperature is on this the nineteenth day of May: 54°
Isn't that bizarre? It's May, for god's sake, and it feels like March.
Hopefully it'll get warmer.
Now is the time for me to do laundry.
posted at 14:11 ||
sábado, mayo 18, 2002
I'm Hap-peee! I'm Hap-peee!
Laura's dance recital was...fun. Rachel was there, and Becky, and we talked during the first half.
Then I went and talked to Joy...tee-hee.
She's fun. It's gonna be a blast on the trip with her.
*Whoo* I have such bad gas right now, and that's sayin' a lot for me. I don't know what I've eaten, but it's awful.
Re-arranged in the den today. I'm never doing that again. It was so stressful. But we got everything in there, and everyone can see the telly, and it's all good.
I didn't practice today, but I shall tomorrow. Seriously.
posted at 22:50 ||
viernes, mayo 17, 2002
For all you readers out there (and I say this in earnest because I know that there are readers), after each post is a link that says "¿Qué dices?". That's a comments link. Feel free.
posted at 20:54 ||
Can I Get a "Woop Woop"?
Well, I went and applied at Food City. It took me like eight minutes to do the math section (yeah, they have a math section on their application). I hope I get the job. Honestly, I need money. New shoes, clothes, lessons...structure?
1. What shampoo do you use?
Whatever's in the shower. Right now I believe there's some VO5 "Sun Kissed Raspberries" in there. I don't like it much. When I get my job I'm gonna buy some of my own things. It'll be nice...I hope.
2. Do you use conditioner? What kind?
No. My hair is greasy enough. Occasionally, if I want my hair to look good, I'll bathe but not wash my hair. It gives it that pomade look.
3. When was the last time you got your hair cut?
Let's see...two or three weeks ago. They didn't cut it short enough, and I want to get it cut again, but I just got it cut. Talk about a dilemma.
4. What styling products do you use?
Well, for prom I used DEP8. It gives too much of a hold and not the look I was going for as is, so I put it in my hair while it was still sort of wet and styled it. Looked good. Other than that, I don't put much in my hair. I use that Adidas Moves stuff when I want my hair to smell nice.
5. What's your worst hair-related experience?
Um...I can't really say that I have one.
posted at 19:14 ||
Dig It, Yo...
I have very bad heartburn.
I've taken a liking to writing serifs. Modern calligraphy, if you will. It doesn't look half-bad.
I'm leavnig at two today. *YAY*. I'll be the only one at the house for a loooong time. Tee hee.
I had a weird dream last night, and as I have nothing else to do, I shall tell you about it.
I think Zeke Fugate was in it, and some Spanish-speaking people that resembled the people at the party in December, but weren't the same people. I was a translator, and the Spanish-speakers had some kind of (diplomatic?) relationship with Zeke. And Bobby Harshbarger was in my dream. I don't know where that came from. Perhaps it was because I saw him last week or something...?
It didn't have a definite plot. One minute we were in a small dining room, and the next we were on some stage in front of a huge crowd in an auditorium (that's where Bobby Harshbarger made his appearance). I was acting silly like my sister. It was crazy.
posted at 10:33 ||
jueves, mayo 16, 2002
I'm a Little Late Home From Community Band Because...
After Community Band I had to deliver crates of sodas. Then I had to get some gas. Then I had to take her home. Then I stopped at Food City to see about an application where I learned that in order to apply, one has to come between such-and-such hours during the work day and 9-3 on Saturday and go to the back office and fill out an application. One can't take an application and fill it out at leisure then go back and turn it in. Whatever.
I plan on going this Saturday. Don't scoff at me, it's money. My own money. I can buy my own things with it. Yes.
Now I must do homework.
posted at 22:24 ||
I know this is probably copyrighted, but I'm going to give credit to U.S. News and World Report.
Enter the Cyborgs
Promise and peril in a marriage of brains and silicon
By Nell Boyce
Except for those odd little backpacks, the rats seem no creepier than usual. They climb trees, run through pipes, and scamper across tables. But they aren't following the usual rodent urges. These rats are moving under remote control, reacting to commands radioed to three thin electrodes in their brains. The signals tell them which way to turn–and encourage them by delivering electrical jolts to their pleasure centers.
It is a tour de force with unsettling implications, and not just for rats. "It was kind of amazing to see," says researcher Sanjiv Talwar of the State University of New York Downstate Medical Center, Brooklyn. "We didn't imagine that it would be that accurate." The success, reported last week in Nature, conjures up visions of roborat search-and-rescue squads. It may also advance a long-sought goal in humans: linking the brains of people paralyzed by disease or injury to robots that could act for them. To be really useful, such devices would have to give sensory feedback to the brains of their users. That's what Talwar and his colleagues achieved with the rats, steering them left or right with impulses that made them feel as if someone were touching their whiskers.
The feat is just the latest in a series of demonstrations suggesting that brains could meld with machines faster than you might think. Monkeys have moved robot arms with signals from their brains. Neural implants have also given a few severely disabled patients control over a computer cursor and delivered "sound" right to the brains of some deaf people. Yet it isn't just the paranoid who worry that such technologies could be used for brain enhancement rather than therapy, or that the mating of mind and machine could turn people into something akin to roborats.
"The individual work that's being done is not necessarily ethically troubling. It's the broader ramifications, the implications of what can be," says Ellen McGee of the Long Island Center for Ethics, who has written on brain chips that could link the "wetware" of the brain to the hardware of a computer. Ethicists are meeting next week in San Francisco to ponder "neuroethics"–the ethical challenges posed by advances in neuroscience like this one. And President Bush's bioethics panel may also take up the issue of brain implants, according to its chair, bioethicist Leon Kass.
Talking the talk. Brains and electronics can communicate because they have a common language: electricity. For decades, scientists have mapped the brain with electrodes, which eavesdrop on neurons' electrical chatter or tickle them with external signals. In the 1950s, when scientists began slipping electrodes into the brains of patients who were awake during surgery, they were surprised to find that an electric current could make people hear music or recall childhood memories. Other work showed that electrodes could produce emotions like fear, anger, and pleasure. John Chapin, who heads Talwar's lab, recalls a famous 1965 photo of a neuroscientist who stopped a charging bull by stimulating an electrode in its brain using a radio transmitter.
These days, you might unknowingly walk past someone on the street who has an implant sending signals right to his or her nervous system– and loves it. Some devices, like the cochlear implant that restored radio host Rush Limbaugh's hearing, act on nerves rather than the brain. But in around 200 completely deaf people with damaged auditory nerves, electrical signals derived from sounds go right to the brain's surface. Although most of these people can perceive only muffled sound, "we have a handful who can actually hear and understand sentences," says Robert Shannon of the House Ear Institute in Los Angeles. Later this year, Shannon and his colleagues hope to start a trial of a newer device that actually penetrates the brain.
Other common implants act as the equivalent of pacemakers for the brain, sending electrical impulses to restore order when brain activity goes awry. In nearly 15,000 people with Parkinson's disease, an electronic device sewn into their chest sends signals to electrodes deep within their brain, disrupting the abnormal electrical activity that causes their tremors. Ali Rezai of the Cleveland Clinic hopes to use similar devices to treat obsessive-compulsive disorder and depression. He expects that within a few years, such implants will not just stimulate neurons but also "listen" to them, so that the brain pacemaker can lie dormant until it detects abnormal activity.
Scientists are also working on devices that listen to–and then act on– normal wishes and intentions, such as "reach for that glass." Four years ago, neurologist Philip Kennedy, now at a company called Neural Signals, announced a first step: a system that enabled a man named Johnny Ray, paralyzed and speechless after a massive stroke, to move a computer cursor simply by thinking about it. Kennedy put two electrodes in a region of Ray's brain associated with hand movement. After two months of practice, Ray's brain figured out how to generate electrical signals that would move the cursor and let him slowly spell out words.
Kennedy has since put implants in three other patients, but their declining health limited their ability to use the devices. He recently got permission from the Food and Drug Administration to work with people who have degenerative diseases but have not yet become "locked in," losing all speech and movement. That should give them more time to become adept with the technology.
The ultimate goal, says Kennedy, "is to have patients communicate and move through the brain-machine interface." Giving people control of both computers and robot arms is likely to mean implanting many electrodes, sensitive to more nuances of the brain's electrical chatter. Such multielectrode arrays have already been tested in animals, and the results have been striking.
Mind control. Around the time that Ray was getting his implants, for example, Chapin's group implanted electrodes in the motor cortex of rats and monitored electrical activity there while the animals pressed a lever to get water. Computer analyses revealed an electrical pattern that the rats produced right before they pressed. When the researchers rigged the water dispenser to respond to the implant's signal instead of the lever, the rats kept pushing the now useless lever for a while. But soon they stopped bothering and controlled the dispenser with their brains alone. "There are some people who still can't believe it," Chapin says.
Since then, Chapin and others have ratcheted up the mind control. He and his colleague Miguel Nicolelis at Duke University put electrode arrays in the motor cortex of monkeys and showed that signals the arrays picked up as a monkey moved its arm could also control a robotic arm, which accurately mimicked the monkey's natural movements. Chapin and Nicolelis even sent the signals through the Internet to a robotic arm 600 miles away. In March, Mijail Serruya in John Donoghue's lab at Brown University demonstrated a setup that let monkeys "think" a green dot toward its target on a computer screen. Donoghue says he is now asking locked-in patients whether they would be willing to try the technology. And Andrew Schwartz of the Neurosciences Institute in La Jolla, Calif., has been working with monkeys that perform a similar task but this time in a 3-D virtual-reality environment rather than on a screen. They learn to move a "floating" ball with their mind alone as skillfully as they can with a joystick.
Once brain implant technology is powerful enough to give human patients control over, say, a robot arm, the next step will be to send signals back into the brain so patients can "feel" things as well as manipulate them. And that's where the roborats creep into the picture. To see if the rats could understand tactile stimuli delivered directly to their brains, Talwar and his colleagues implanted two electrodes near brain cells that normally receive signals from the rats' left or right whiskers. By stimulating the electrodes at the right moments, the researchers were able to steer the rats like a child's remote-control car.
Suspicious minds may be unnerved to learn that DARPA, the research arm of the Defense Department, funded Talwar's work. The agency has been eagerly supporting research into brain-interface technology, thinking it might someday prove useful for warfare. Remote-control animals could go on reconnaissance missions, for example, or search for injured people in destroyed buildings. Their backpacks could carry computer programs and global positioning system hookups that would guide them to targets.
Jihad rats. Talwar says he and his colleagues didn't start the experiment intending to make "jihad, ninja rats. It's not something that occurred to us." But the sight of the rats being vectored through mazes inevitably raises fears that such technology, if misused, could become a threat to autonomy in people. In the 1960s and 1970s, after all, a few psychiatrists made crude attempts to alter people's behavior with brain electrodes, in one case trying to "cure" a man's homosexuality by stimulating his pleasure center while he watched heterosexual porn.
Joseph Fins, a medical ethicist at Weill Medical College of Cornell University, thinks "that historical legacy is a scary one and one we need to attend to. We have to set up criteria so that there is transparency, accountability, and peer review." Brain implants can help people, he believes, if the devices "allow patients to have control, not be under control."
And then there's the opposite scenario, equally controversial: that implants could ultimately extend the physical or mental abilities of healthy recipients, leading to a superior caste of cyborgs. "What would happen if we could have someone control a third arm as naturally as you could control your other two arms?" wonders Donoghue. "That's the scary part," agrees Kennedy. "I have no ethical qualms with what I'm doing right now to patients," he says. "The ethical problem I have is using this to enhance normal consciousness."
Prostheses that would improve recipients' brains are much further away than thought-controlled arms. Enhancing intellect or memory will take a far more sophisticated ability to talk to and understand neurons than scientists now have. But several groups are trying to study the language of thought by growing small networks of brain cells on top of silicon chips and in electrode-studded dishes. "I think that by studying networks in culture, we can get an idea of the group activities that lead to what we call thoughts in animals," says Steven Potter of the Georgia Institute of Technology.
One day chips that speak and understand the language of neurons could treat mind-destroying diseases like Alzheimer's. Yet entrusting our thoughts and memories to silicon would be a momentous step. How would it affect our sense of individuality and mortality, asks ethicist McGee, if we could upload our memories to a computer? Cyberpunk enthusiasts, however, have no such qualms. They can't wait for technologies that will let them physically "jack in" to their computers like William Gibson's sci-fi characters.
The movement's most outspoken advocate is Kevin Warwick at the University of Reading, England, who had a multielectrode device implanted in his wrist this March. He plans to monitor the signals picked up by the implant, then deliver stimuli through it that he hopes will create phantom sensations in his hand. He may also try to use the signals from the implant to control a robotic finger.
These are baby steps, Warwick says, toward the day when implants will give him new powers, like perfect memory or the ability to radio his thoughts to other cyborgs. "Do we want to allow humans the possibility to upgrade?" he asks. "From my point of view, why not?"
posted at 17:33 ||
I've got a 100 things list in progress right now for all you readers (ha!).
I'm in such a bad undermood. I hate school. Hate it. It's not like I do poorly - in fact I'm eighth in my class - but all of this seems pointless. Grade-school and high school are conditioning for getting into the work force and getting a general education to be a well-rounded individual. College is where you go to specialise in your desired field of work. But as we all know, the college schedule is somewhat less rigorous. So the intern was created to get a person accustomed to the work schedule again. Then you go into the work force for the next forty to fifty years. How exciting...
I hate school. HATE IT. I do not like it one bit. I spend a lot of time waiting. Waiting for classes to start, waiting for the class to end, waiting to be herded down the hall like cattle by the bells.
ARRGH! I've got one year left of this shit. Actually, more like one hundred ninety-something days left. But that's not including weekends.
I need to email Jill...see if she still needs me to mow her lawn.
posted at 10:29 ||
miércoles, mayo 15, 2002
I can't stand how my brother thinks that he has any right to my stuff. He moved my clock over near our beds so he could plug up a box fan that we don't even use half the time, thus taking up yet another outlet near my bed. He thinks he has some unproclaimed right to get on my computer, but won't let me use his stereo. He never picks up after himself in the bathroom, then bitches at me about how messy our room is and how it's (somehow always) my turn to vacuum, then he goes and picks up the mess he made in the bathroom. He doesn't hang up his towels, but throws them in the floor. His hair is all over the sink. He uses my hair stuff that makes my hair smell nice, that I only use for special occasions. He doesn't put the lid back on the toothpaste. He has no regard for anyone else's laundry - meaning: if you have laundry in a machine that he needs to use, he'll take your laundry out of the machine and won't put it in a basket or anything and won't tell you that he did it. Then when you ask him about it he says "I needed to use the machine" and "you should keep up with your laundry." He has fucking Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath playing on his stereo from when he wakes up till when he gets in the bed. He thinks he knows how to play guitar, but in fact only knows ten riffs and plays them over and over and over again. With all that going on, he won't let me practice my trumpet downstairs.
posted at 22:33 ||
martes, mayo 14, 2002
Things I Can't Help
- I have a big nose
- I'm very tall
- I have a hairy ass
- I can't run a mile in under 6:00
But I can sight-read a grade 6 piece of music.
I don't know what prompted that.
posted at 21:59 ||
What is the Name of This Post?
If characters A,B,C are either knights or knaves, but only one is a knight, and you ask each of them "Are you a knight or a knave?", which is the knight?
Yeah...That's what this book is like called "What is the Name of This Book?". Absolutely horrible. And it's just logic. All one has to do is sit down and think, "well, if A is a knight, then the others are knaves" and so on...
And another mind-blowing concept is the fact that if you add 2*10-100 to a number, the difference isn't significant enough to matter. I think I shall become an activist for infinitesimal numbers' rights. I am an advocate for INR (say "eener")! Small numbers have rights, too!
posted at 11:32 ||
lunes, mayo 13, 2002
You know what it's like when my brother uses my computer? It's like me asking you to use your car, telling you that I'm going to community band or something. The catch is "Oh, I got bored at community band so I went cruisin' around Kingsport." I drove for miles and miles and used up nearly all of your gas, but didn't bother to fill the tank up again. I got your preset radio buttons all out of whack, I moved your seat back, changed the angle of all of your mirrors, lost the thing that goes in the cigarette lighter, somehow managed to get gum all over the roof of the car, and on top of that, there is now a speeding ticket that you have to pay because it is your name on the registration and I refuse to pay it.
That's how I feel when my brother uses my computer.
posted at 21:41 ||
Who Loves Ya? I Do
A resolution: No more quizzes posted here. They ugly up my site.
You'd think that Armageddon was coming. We've had about seven storms since April, and umpteen inches of rain, too. Two floods in two years. Week before last I had to pull over on the way to community band because the rain was so hard. And Dad hasn't put those windshield wipers that we bought in January on his car yet. It's not safe, I tell you.
Um...My social life is going to be nonexisent next year. I'm gonna have to round up some discipline over the summer. My vision of the summer is this: I wake up eat a banana or an apple or something, and go run. Then come home and do as many push-ups as I can, then ab stuff, then shoulder dips. Then I'll probably eat something, then I'll practice my trumpet. Practice practice practice...
That's all pending I don't go to Governor's School. Which I kinda hope happens. It would be nice to go again and hang out with all those cool Wise county kids, but I've got serious stuff to do this summer. And I've got to get a job sometime soon. Scary.... And lessons. I'm going to call Ron Wilcox this evening when I get home. When I get that all set up, then I'll get a job. Probably at Food City. Yeah...
And I need a car.
posted at 10:29 ||
domingo, mayo 12, 2002
Chip implants aim to save lives - Tech News - CNET.com
posted at 19:24 ||
A Night of Merriment
Despite the stressful beginning (I had left my studs and cuff-links at the tuxedo place), the evening went well. We got all of our pictures made, both at her house and mine, and at Meadowview, and the dinner went well, though Brittany had to give me twenty dollars because the meal was so damned expensive. (note to self: Bring lots of money to eat at Skoby's. Lots of money) The actual prom was fun. This is the first time I've actually stayed the whole time. To the very end. It took me a while to get my groove on. But when I did, it was contagious. Everyone in our group, save Billy, was dancin'. It was lots of fun.
Then we went to Becky's to change, then to the Hartgroves' for the fire, then I took Rachel back to Becky's, then got home about 3:30. Wizzaaa! I was about to fall asleep going to Beckys. The Hartgroves live way the fuck down in Yuma. And they're loaded. They own like a five acre wide swath of the valley. One ridge to the other. And a big house.
Uh...Haven't done much this Mother's Day. I woke up and was informed that Grandma was coming over. Didn't hit me for a while that the reason was it's Mother's Day. Yeah...
Thankfully I have no homework.
posted at 19:13 ||
viernes, mayo 10, 2002
The A.P. test was horrible. Doubleplusungood. But I don't think I made any lower than a three. I hope.
So today was senior-junior lay-out day (also known as everyone-takes-advantage-of-day-before-prom day), and as I had to take the A.P. exam, I was going to be there anyway. I was there the whole day. But I didn't have anything better to do. Luke, Caitie, Mr. Fleming, Mr. Lake, and I played some quintet music he had. It was fun. Interesting sound. I'd like to get in a group of good people. I imagine that college will be something like that...I hope.
Here's a bit of a downer:
"This week ends with a scattered sampling of assorted goodness going down. One semi-not-so-good thing is that this site has finally slipped off the Blogs Of Note list on the front page of Blogger. While I will miss the astronomical number of daily hits I got, I won't miss the random daily e- mail from people assuming I doubled as Blogger's tech-support. Thank you to those who found me and decided this was a place worthy of bookmarking."
The relevance: I'm that random emailer. This came from a daily read, but I'm not too offended. Just goes to support my leech hypothesis.
After school I pissed the afternoon away watching television. I've been watching television since about four o'clock. God damn. I need to stop watching so much television. Think of what I could be doing other than flipping through channels and channels of bullshit and nothing to watch. Lots of other worthwhile stuff. Indeed, practicing, or doing my homework or, or...or...who knows? Now, that doesn't include movies. I need to see some more movies.
And now that track is over, I need to call Ron Wilcox again and see if he has any openings. Then get a job, so I can tell the employers when I'll need to be off each week.
Tomorrow = prom = very busy day for me. I'll have to wake up and go get Rachel's corsage, then go get my tux, then clean out the car, then get dressed, then go get Rachel and do pictures at her house, then go to the pictures at Meadowview, then go eat at Skoby's, then go to the actual prom, then to Brittany's for a 'bonfire', then home. To bed.
posted at 21:26 ||
jueves, mayo 09, 2002
11:29 Hours and Counting...
I'm not so stressed about the test anymore. I took that practice quiz that I got at the review thing and I missed 29 out of the 80 multiple choice questions. Which (if they score like I'm guessing they do) comes out to about a three. Which is what I have to make so that I don't have to pay Dad back. And Mrs. Abbott seems to think that if I put lots of facts in my DBQ, then I shouldn't make below a three. A sigh of relief escapes my lips.
After the review, I went with Emily (Clintwood girl), Seth, Zeke, and that Nathan guy to McDonalds and we sat around and talked. She's weird. The conversation was nice, but let's just say that I don't think she digs me anymore. She reminds me of Ms. Dishner, but thirty years earlier. Or something. None save her were "religious," and I don't think she's ever been around any agnostics or athiests. Which reminds me, by the way, when I say I'm a heathen, it mean's I'm an athiest. No supreme being in my life.
Anyway, we talked about religion and drugs and movies and aspirations...
It was interesting, to say the least. But I don't think she digs me anymore.
Ah, well...Jennifer (Hot-Kelly-Girl) came in later than I did and sat down next to me. And talked to me. Yeah...She's cool. And very pretty. And Hot.
Also, I need to start seeing more movies.
posted at 21:22 ||
miércoles, mayo 08, 2002
I want any readers I have out there to email me. Anything.
posted at 22:50 ||
1 : a ghostly counterpart of a living person
2 a : DOUBLE 2a b : ALTER EGO b c : a person who has the same name as another
Courtesy of Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary.
Anyway, I went to that A.P. review this evening, and my G.C. cohorts were commenting to a girl from Clintwood (more on her later) that Tom Padgett is my doppelgänger. I didn't know what it meant at the time, but I kinda figured it out. Everywhere I go that he's there, people are like "Cole, that guy looks just like you. Are you sure you're not related?" In fact, Zeke asked me if we weren't related. "I don't think we are..."
I still do not know the name of that girl from Clintwood. I talked to her at all the breaks. She knew our names, but I never heard hers. Even when we were filling out those sheets, and she asked the Kelly people for their names, and they were like "who are you?", she said that she was the girl that went to the movies with this mutual friend of Hot-Kelly-Girl and herself, but still didn't give her name.
Fate, I guess. She was into me, though...Hehe.
I tell you, I learned more in that review than I have all fucking year. If Judy would teach like that the whole year, then I'd be totally ready for this goddamn test.
She is so scary in person. Don't let that picture fool you. I walked into the building and there she was. I wanted to run away, screaming in terror. She's so shiny and bony, and has this bushy black hair, and is humped over. And pale like a fucking cadaver. Scary....But she's a nice lady. Despite all I've said. Or thought. Indeed.
So Mom graduated from nursing school. Hooray! I'm so happy for her. Maybe now she'll be happy? Less, shall we say, disgruntled?
I sure hope so.
posted at 22:17 ||
From a the livejournal of a "friend":
"i had a good day today. yeah, i had good day.
i should probably just leave it at that. leave it at that and go to bed...
everyday, we go throughout our days living them exactly the same way we did the day before. we never do what we want to do. we are forced by something, all of us a different thing, to go about living our lives the way the world wants us to live them. are we even living? yes, i'm sure we are. it's been happening this way forever. when will the day come when we can do what we want to do?
we can't wait to get out of elementary school and into high school. then life will be fun. we can't wait to graduate from high school and move far away from where we have been brought up and lived half of our lives. then we'll be freed from our parents and all restraints that hold us back. we can't wait to get out of college, get married, have a family. we want to finally begin our lives. and we do. then we get a job. we just can't wait until we retire so we can stop going to work every day. we grow old and retire.
we wish we were still in grade school.
but you know, i had a good day today..."
I had no idea that he was that...poetic?
posted at 11:08 ||
martes, mayo 07, 2002
What?! You Think I'm Enjoying This?!
I'm tired. I'm sleepy. I'm sore. I'm not wanting to study. I don't want to take the A.P. test. For my schedule next year I dropped Public Speaking and Probability and Statistics for A.P. Calculus. What was I thining? Next year: A.P. English, A.P. Government, and A.P. Calculus? Jennifer Brickey isn't even taking the test today because she doesn't think she'll do too well. What was I thiking?!
Hopefully I won't go crazy. Er. Crazier.
posted at 11:27 ||
lunes, mayo 06, 2002
Merriment and Laughter.
posted at 22:26 ||
I am quasi-ready for that test tomorrow. I've read everything, at least.
I've come to the conclusion that I do not have a knack for history. Either that or the teacher really sucks. Really.
I didn't go to the track meet today. On Thursday coach said that if we didn't want to go to the meet today, we didn't have to go. Then sometime today changed his mind. I wasn't notified until after they had already left and gone to the meet and I went to the field house dreading the workout that Coach Reed would give us. But apparently after what coach put us through on Thursday, there weren't too many people (at least ten) willing to jump on the bus to Powell Valley. Much indignance.
So I didn't go, and instead read what I needed to. I should be reviewing, but who gives a damn. Dad apparently thinks I am going to do fine on that test, and I've arranged to have the after-school review taped on audio tape, so at least I'll hear what I'll be missing.
I didn't have a chance to do that damned DBQ. I must do it tomorrow. I shall do it during second block.
posted at 21:52 ||
MR. CASTLE: Havin' fun yet?
VICKY: Yeah. I'm about to start the essay. I'm not too worried about it.
MR. CASTLE: I woud be if I were you. You're not too good of a speller.
VICKY: Yeah, but I write good.
ME: Well. You write well.
ME: You don't write good. You write well.
posted at 10:10 ||
domingo, mayo 05, 2002
Dude...I've Got the Fuckin' Munchies
I'm sure there's a lot of other stuff I could be doing at 10:00 in the evening. Something like reading my history book ('which one?' you ask), or learning to cook. Or even sleeping so I won't be at school later than I want to tomorrow... Or not.
I'm formulating an end-of-school resolution: This summer I'm going to put my nose to the grindstone. I hope. I'm actually wishing that I hadn't applied to governor's school. Maybe I won't get in. But anyhow, I am going to run. Yes I will. I will practice, I will. A lot. I will not spend entire days vegged out in front of the television. I will work up to one hundred sit-ups a day by the end of the summer, and I will do as many push-ups and shoulder-dips as I can until I can do more. I know that it will seem like I'm getting nowhere, but I will keep doing it.
I'm going to go crazy. Then go eat.
God save the Queen!
I shall leave you with that.
posted at 22:09 ||
I have done the assignment, and read 1/3 of the reading assignment in the process. However, I still have the other 2/3 to account for. But by Tuesday. So I think I'll read the H.O.W. stuff today, and work on the other stuff tomorrow.....Yeah, that's it.
Tomorrow's Dad's birthday. But, as we went to the concert last night, i am exempt from getting him a present. And I have no money. So there.
Sweet Jesus, read this. The one entitled "May Update."
Tengo una novia llamada Fellatia
Que me da mucha cabeza
Estoy siempre cansado porque
Siempre estoy teniendo el sexo
I feel like a loser here connected, staring at my screen and picking my nose. I'm gonna go read.
posted at 17:45 ||
Indeed Some More
Which Pixies song are you?
|Where is my Mind?|
You're smart, shy, and often nonsensical. You have dreams of being famous, and you're quirky enough that you just might pull them off. Some would call you a genius, others would call you insane, but in reality you're pretty well-adjusted. Take a vacation once in a while- it'll help take your mind off of your troubles.
posted at 17:25 ||
Find your inner donut.
posted at 17:24 ||
take the "what's my fault" quiz.
(and then browse around mewing.net. because laura is cool.)
posted at 15:13 ||
Here Comes the Sun
There is not a cloud in the sky from what I can see. I think I'll go outside to do the fuck-ton of homework I have to do.
The B.B. King concert wasn't bad. The opening act was this group called Mark Selby and the somethings.... They were really good. Let's see, let's see...Then there were the Fabulous Thunderbirds or something. They were okay. They stayed on the stage way too long. At one point, the lead man had this monstrous harmonica solo where he was the only one on stage for like fifteen minutes. It wasn't bad, but I thought their whole show was kinda weak.
Then B.B. King's band came on. That was great. He's got a really good stage personality. That group had it together, I tell you.
On a sadder note: Bill Dickey died. Sometime in the past week. Mom just got home and told me. Kinda saddening, but he's had cancer for over a year now and it's not like it wasn't expected.
I've got a fuck-ton of reading to do in History. Two chapters in the big book and another one in the H.O.W. Plus an assignment to do. And I've got to read some more in the 1810-1860 section, and I'm thinking about doing the DBQ that I've got, so that maybe I could get it graded sometime before FRIDAY.
Days till the A.P. Test: 5
Days of school left: 22
I'm gonna do some blog hopping and then get started on my homework.
posted at 11:31 ||
sábado, mayo 04, 2002
Haircuts Always Make Me Feel Better
I just got a hair cut and on the way home, I remembered this. It's at the very bottom.
This evening Nathaniel, Dad, and I are going to go see B.B. King. At Viking Hall. I have no idea how to get there, but I am the one driving. I could use my nifty trips program? Nahh...I'll just wing it. It's at Tennessee High, I believe.
The sky has been opressive since Wednesday. No, Tuesday. I haven't seen the sun in four days. I tell you, it gets to a person. Please sun, come out from behind those clouds.
posted at 12:16 ||
viernes, mayo 03, 2002
Brought to You by RAMJAC™
The family went to Pizza Hut this evening. While I was there I wondered "I wonder if this is a RAMJAC subsidary." Hence the title. You Vonnegut fans'll know what RAMJAC is.
Thank god there was no track practice. I am just so glad for that. So very glad. And it's officially the weekend. Hallelujiah.
Instead, I went to get my tux in order. Until I got there I thought I wanted a full vest, but the lady said that those had to be ordered, and I was sure that it was gonna cost out the ass to order a vest, so I just went with the fit-all type. "Standard" tux, if you will. It's still somewhere around $60.
So much money is spent this time of year. Band trip, prom, what have you. Two hundred and fifty two dollars for the band trip. By god. That's a lot of money.
I'm so damned tired, too. I feel like I've been put in one of those hampster balls and bounced like a basketball...ugh.
Well, I'm gonna edit my template some more.
Then maybe I'll listen to some Appalachian Spring...
posted at 20:21 ||
I have one week until the A.P. Test, and I am so not ready! Aaaaaaaaah!
I am so tired. Yesterday at track practice we had to do a big heezy of a workout because of the apes' misbehavior on the busride back from the track meet on Wednesday. We spent like 45 minutes on these box thingies, then we did these things where you run -- excuse me, sprint -- to a cone and do so many jumping jacks, then sprint to the next cone and do so many sit-ups, and then bear-crawl to the next cone and then sprint to the end. And then he switched it on us so that we had to do so many push-ups, then so many leg-pikes, then bear-crawl some more.... It was tired.
Then we had to pull the sleds...ugh. That wasn't too awfully bad exept for the splitting headache I had from the adrenaline rush. And I felt like I was going to throw up the whole time. I actually had to pull more than my own body weight, with the weight of the sled accounted for.
I got home at six, had just enough time to eat (two small pork chops and a salad...mmmm) and then I had to leave for community band.
I'm so glad that I didn't have a history assignment or anything. I would be even more tired right now.
posted at 10:19 ||
jueves, mayo 02, 2002
Alas, I have not mentioned the changing of the months...shame on me.
Indeed, a new month has come into being. To start it, there was a mediocre da of school and a track meet. Woo. It threatened to rain the whole track meet and even sprinkled a bit in the middle. Then they decided to go ahead and run the 3200m, but they cancelled the 1600m relay. Dammit. That always happens. There were tornado watches in Kentucy (which isn't too far away from Wise County, mind you), and severe thunderstorm watches for our area...
The lightning was specter-like, though. There wasn't really much thunder, just the lightning. It made the return trip on the bus with twenty apes bearable, at least.
And then I got home to where my Math Analysis homework awaited me. Let me tell you, logarithms are no trouble at all. Granted I missed three on the homework, but two were careless errors. Basically all she does is come up with a formula for a problem, and then change the numbers around.... Easy shit.
And Now for Something Completely Different
I've been wondering this for a while: Am I a parasite? Do I leech onto someone and then suck (figuratively) on them until they're forced to have me surgically removed? Ach. Sometimes introspection hurts...or leaves you wondering.....
posted at 11:24 ||
which beatles song are you?
this quiz was made by janel
posted at 10:44 ||
miércoles, mayo 01, 2002
A Test! A Test!
The Band Quiz By Rahel
posted at 11:10 ||