once again, the confluence of details baffles me and i don't know what to think. the wire and dead meadow? hunh.

government is so stupid; i participated more than anyone else, and i was doing my geology homework and not taking notes. *kills self*

actually, i think *kills self* is in my notes too. minute doodle was ignored except for the beginning and end of class. motherfucker, it's over at 6:55, not 6:57. who gives a flying fuck about cooperative federalism? *stabs* why the colorful ninth-grade props? *stabs*

*STABS*

vengeance is mine!

a perfectly serviceable potato leek soup can be made without an immersion blender! or a blender! in a too-large quantity! with the aid of just a whisk! (and maybe some small spoonful of thick dairy product just before eating, but that's neither here nor there.)

i'm free from the tyranny of recipes! for at least a day or two, until i get another bug in my ear.

hmm

i get home nearly as quickly from school on tuesdays if i wait for the 5, or if i take the infectious-disease 1 and walk from lamar and koenig.

it takes me ten minutes to peel five medium-sized potatoes with a paring knife, but half an hour to dice them.

i've never read farther ahead for school before, and it makes the lectures really tiresome if they're going by the book.

we are north american scum! *waggles booty*

goddamnit

why do the supply and demand curves make me dyslexic? life is going to be rough if i can't get when the curves shift left and right depending on change in factors of the entire relationship. i'll be trying to find the equilibrium point all week, people.

why i love the economist

link

it's the only magazine i have a subscription to, and not just because my dad pays for it. he used to get me newsweek, that horrible little rag that's usa today in weekly format.

stuff 'n' things 'n' shit

first of all, i would like to address my fellow ACC mouthbreathers. i'm not paying the opportunity cost of going to school and doing penance at the county instead of working a REAL JOB with benefits and retirement and SHIT just so i can spend my evenings with you, who have recently discovered that it's not high school and you can so totally drop the f-bomb during discussion in class. it's fucking english composition UNO. go mouth off to a cop already. i hope he beats you stupid, although he'd have to be robocop to have a chance at making you stupider than you already are. our new words today were... uh... i dunno. i doodled those goddamn mine cars all over the paper. no! i also wrote snarky asides on the new yorker essay he read aloud in class, and did the crossword and sudoku. then he read some other shit in class that i had just heard an hour ago in government, and attempted to impress with his ME recitation of the opening of canterbury tales. *snzzxxngh* i'm thirty years old and getting assigned journal entries about ability, and persuasive essays. at this point i'd rather have a cleveland steamer. or some-many-lots, if that would allow me to test out of this crap.

second, i will rise to the implicit challenge, and serve you with a thirteen-year-old lipogram. it's been edited for my one mistake, which made it a B. otherwise, all capitalization or lack thereof is in the original version. i'll tell you my mistake, and try another one if you can tell me what this assignment was based on - i can't remember, though i have a pretty fucking good guess that i won't look up.

Angst in Jutland

how glorious to succumb to a fatal malady of animation, a dissolution of soul's blood if I could but quit this animal stagnation and jaunt off to twilit Stygian banks, dismiss all aggravations in this world - how I would favor this option. Crack of doom, land upon my skull! I will not submit to your atrocity and wanton ways. blight of lustful matriarchs, conniving patriarchs, crafty maids and family, may you burn in that world of hot light of truth. Paragons of fault, any fascination with your shallow pool of illusion is fallacy. I watch you show your subconscious man. You think your craft fools all, your titan bullyboy vision. All you unmask is your puny homunculus disposition, viscount of nothing. A foul zonda blows with grim stygian flows. Charon motions, but I still stand. What lands did prior colonists find on that far bank? I know no sagas. My t-shirt says 'no thanatophobia,' but I think I'll stay in my asylum.

yeah, i don't really need a comp class, or a government class where he summarizes the book and shouts random words and thumps the desk as people sitting in the front desks continue to nap. i could have spent the last four and a half hours on one chapter of macro.

so, in my hunt for that fucking piece of paper, i had to rummage through the time capsule of mold. awesome and gross. set lists, school correspondence, SAT test results from 1995, old university IDs, letters from people i don't even know are alive or not, writing ideas i never used, an austin map from 1983, hundreds of old pay stubs... i threw all the ruined eightballs and optic nerves away, and saved this unreadable shit that's dried together? the fuck's wrong with me?

i did invent a new game for government tonight, however. ACC has installed a campus alert system in some of the classrooms, and usually it just tells the time in eight-inch-high digital numbers. you can sort of look like you're paying attention, but you're really playing minute doodle! you simply figure out how many more fucking minutes you'll have to sit there, write it down, and incorporate the number into a doodle. better make it quick and good, because the number of minutes is about to change and you'll have to start a new one. it totally rules. plus i was angry because i skipped it last week, did some reading during breaks at work today, and was TWO FUCKING CHAPTERS ahead of lecture. dirty whores. just give me all the assignments now so i don't have to do any work in two months. jesus fuck.

i don't have anything else.

dear computer, stop freezing, i hate you

GODDAMN FUCKING SCABROUS BLEEDING WHORE OF A COMPUTER. I PUNCH YOU IN YOUR FESTERING LESIONS RIDDLED WITH MAGGOTS AND OOZING PUS. I KICK YOU IN YOUR BLOATED LUMPEN ASS, CRUSTED OVER WITH A SLUDGE OF FECAL MATTER, DRIED SEMEN, CHEAP STRAWBERRY-SCENTED LUBE, AND ALLEY OOZE.

if i get chills when reading the economics degree plan for a B.A. at ut, should i:
a) decide this is my future, print it out on an oversize printer, wheatpaste it to my wall, and zealously overacheive for the next several years;
b) freak out at the intellectual magnitude and stick to the original idea of becoming a business major/tool; or
c) turn up the heat in my apartment?

huh

so, of course, in macro today, he discussed the economic ramifications of legalizing cocaine and heroin. that, and his boring lecture summarizing the first two chapters of the book, made today's attendance a disappointment.

on the flipside, i had an overly exhaustive and hilarious-to-me conversation about joo's wedding on the bus ride home, and i dicked around with tables in m$ word for two hours at work, instead of doing whatever dumb shit everyone else was doing.

we may have to do the logic & analysis testing again, because some genius dropped off the ballot. it's public though, i think... you can come hang out and watch a bunch of temporary employees vote every single permutation of the ballot, and make highlighter marks on sucky spreadsheets. democracy in action! get out the ivote! le sigh. or you can at least make sure you're still registered to vote, based on these allegations. personally, i'm not sure if i'm even voting in this primary. i don't like flipping through the VR book and seeing a party listed with my name. i've shredded, and snooped, old ones before. it makes me feel uncomfortable, like sitting on a slightly-too-large anal plug. i would tell you who i sorta like for the primaries, but i think i'm not supposed to because of work. so i won't. well, orally i could have some sort of deniability.

also, i can't decide which nazz hit i like better, open my eyes or hello it's me

i know, i know

this internets thing, with the blogging, and the no! not the minute-by-minute highs and lows of chewtastic, it gets to be too much. i did want to mention, though, that while i'm not really having bouts of anxiety about being thirty and the whole mortality thing, i can't escape dead people. especially someone who od'ed the day before my birthday, or someone who'd be thirty-one next week. there's a fine line to be trod, to not be overly maudlin or optimistically in denial, and for now i'm going to cautiously move forward and ignore all of it. you know my motto's been "no regrets" for a while. i don't want to blithely give in to hedonism or throw myself into work (with the exception of school, yeah), but i can't think about death or worry about other people any more either. it emotionally cripples me.

i swear i won't bring this up again. i just wanted to make sure i knew i would never forget.

you know what else is sexy?

geology. i'll be able to nerd out at you, come may. my professor is very curmudgeonly. it'll be awesome. he's kind of a gruff, total dick, but really smart. the class is two-thirds engineering and one-third not. alternately, this post is also about how the french were hilariously awesome about the prime meridian. or as i'm going to call it, the FREEDOM MERIDIAN. learning rules. and no, dr. darling (no kidding) didn't tell us anything about that.

dan saved my ass again today, with an assist from joel. hooray worky car! i think it was so cheered by the outpouring of kindness that it let the driver's side door lock even intermittently work. i gotta find a chilton for it.

after riding the bus home, my bike picked up a lot of condensation. let's just say my crotch is very cold and wet, and i don't feel like driving somewhere to fix it. i like to share. happy abortion day, everybody! you can start the countdown now to when we (or technically, half of us) lose this right. god. the thought makes me totally want to get knocked up just so i can exercise the right.

I always hated that movie 'the birds'.

like a monkey with a miniature cymbal

i can't get away from making my life annoying, or at least by leaving the lights on and draining the battery.

*le sigh*

to class, and dealing with it later! *raises glass. of coffee*

nothing doing

i wish i had a real post for you, but i didn't do shit today besides study and listen to retarded fan recordings from i love techno 2007. i don't suppose any of you know any once and former economics majors? macro kind of makes me want to kill myself, because i want SO VERY BADLY to do well in it. like sacrifice babies and assorted acquaintances and former co-workers badly. if you're reading this, you'll be spared. PROBABLY. depending on whether smith and keynes and malthus and the rest of the pantheon tell me you'd make delectable whiffy smoke on the altar.

the hormones are getting out of control again. i think that's where the serial monogamy came from - a subconscious attempt to temper the highs and lows. knowing this doesn't help. rational choo cannot explain anything to irrational choo, making this past weekend kind of sucky and stressful. also, economist choo isn't sure whether sex is a good or a service, or both--sexual capital?--and thus is having a hard time making a rational model with which she can figure out the opportunity cost. you'd expect the explicit cost to be more obvious than the implicit, but it isn't. maybe it is capital, and then it can be both a resource and a good. but wait! if that's true, then i have to have more sex to ... have more sex next year, or even this fiscal quarter! my sexual economy needs to invest more sexual resources to make sexual capital goods, to cause a greater rise in sexual living standards for next year! i can push the sexual production possibilities curve outward and grow my sexual economy by increasing the quantity of sexual resources, or initiating sexual technological change, enabling me to become more efficient in using the sexual resources i already have available! this productive inefficiency or recession, whatever it is, of my sexual economy cannot be allowed to continue! where is my sexual economic stimulus package?!! jesus christ. i need to get laid. otherwise you're in for a whole 'nother world of pain once i "get" the supply and demand chapter.

ahem. let's see. i'm ready to start the fifth season of the wire, finally. i also watched big train, paths of glory, and the premiere of breaking bad. i suppose i've plunged back into tv and movies at the wrong time again, time-management-wise. figures.

don't forget to come make fun of me saturday at the grand. what else are you going to do? see the ends? sharon jones? twitter about how you don't care it's my birthday? photoshop a new LOLvogue? watch tentacle porn on the internet? live on a coast of the united states? pshaw. i'm going to try to drink til i barf all over myself multiple times. all right, all right. i'll stop wallowing in self-pity already. you people make it really hard to take myself seriously, you know that?

monday, march 03

i will be such a P.O.T., doing the D.A.N.C.E. i'd ask you to go to stubb's too, but you'd probably hate it. SINCE YOU HATE FUN.

finally, my amateur tentacle porn dreams can come to fruition.

FUCK A BUNCH OF EVERYTHING. huh. yeah!

Neti!

oh yeah

also, yesterday i gave in to the wicked temptress that is bookstop, and wanted to get the sudhir venkatesh book about the urban poor (*nerdingout - has always wanted to do economic study of*) but they only had this new one. little did i know that when i would catch up on gawker later there would be venkatesh shenanigans!

*BOOT IN*

i bet the middle savage could excoriate him pretty thoroughly. too bad she's busy with the beginning of the semester.

young people! *shakes fist*

so. i am attempting to get caught up on the world of social networking. so far, i don't seem to have missed much... except for one mildly-disturbing-but-mostly-disappointing-and-pathetic development. i was just looking through a certain person-that-most-of-you-guys-know's myspace pictures, because she's cute and very photogenic, and the horror! the horror! mistah kurtz, he dead!

no, actually, ah... you know how i'm a big fan of gawker's running feature, blue states lose, where they make fun of hipster party picture sites while at the same time culturally reinforcing it, yada-not-getting-into-that-discussion-right-now. well, apparently austin is continuing to keep it weird by copying the idea. sigh.

yeah, it's here. the only other person i recognize in the first slideshow is jake from the uglybeats. comments? none of you care. maybe jennifer. maybe my fat drunken fucked-up face in a spoofy photo shoot of hipster bullshit? you know i'd totally rock a hideous gold lamé bodysuit, or go naked in just horrid leggings. honestly, probably just whatever dan, staci, or joolie told me to do. or anyone else. choo is your sub.

this book, On Food and Cooking, is my new lover. darling, tell me more about aubergines and maillard reactions! your breathy, husky voice whispers sweet science-y nothings tenderly into my ear; pyrroles, pyridines, pyrazines, thiophenes, thiazoles, oxazoles. the clingstones and freestones of prunus persica dangle before my mouth agape. what's that, dear one? both copper and silver block sulfur reactions between proteins when you're whipping egg whites into foam? you are so clever. do tell me more!

i, for one, welcome our new tubular overlords

hello world! your favorite lexatrix is back! i am sure, in my soon-to-be dotage, you have all missed me greatly. let me give you an appropriately verbose, reverse-chronological recounting of minute details you may not have ever wanted to know, excepting the bits that i self-censor or forgot or both.

today. the spontaneous reorganization of books. incomplete, as yet. the fiction have finally converged upon a physically separate shelving playa, free from the tyranny of hard-ass nonfiction that have oppressed their vibrant creativity and imagination for so long. unfortunately, this means they are all on display, the first thing one's eyes lay hold of as one passes through the door. the other guys (i was tempted, more sorely than a gangbang backache, to put the biographies with fiction out of sheer spite) are secreted in the bedroom. my serious lovers, with whom i shall sleep. of course, that means i'll dream in categories such as economics! the evils of disney! (who knew there were so many, and that lazy hiaasen has the tiniest piece, if you know what i mean... *leers maliciously as she tests the tensile strength of her mixed metaphors*) music books! the oeuvre of thomas frank! the bush family, private military corporations, and intelligence agencies! miscellaneous, i want to see four on the floor! anyway, whatever. it's not done yet because i got bored.

prior to that, i inadvisedly had passengers in the car for the first time. i do pretty well at first, and then i get cocky and fuck up a little. but hey. it was night and raining, even if i only drove us a few blocks to go eat. and i shoved that right into fourth, too. shazaam! i guess if it totally sucks weather-wise tomorrow, i'll drive to school, but i like the brutality of riding all the way down and back. it's part of my punishment for not finishing school ten years ago. more on that in a bit.

the inestimable dave morgan is who to thank, or blame, for my posting. he dropped by on his way to practice with this computer, which is currently keeping the tops of my thighs pleasantly warm. i've plugged in my old keyboard in order to use my favorite letters q, w, e, and r.

school today was a wee bit scary. on the beast, it takes forty minutes to get there, or back, which is sort of counterintuitive as it's mostly downhill to there. the scary part was macroeconomics, but i think if i take advantage of everything and study like a maniac i'll be good. geology was cancelled due to some sort of horrible illness on the instructor's part, so i think we won't meet thursday either. unless he has a miraculous recovery from a 104 degree fever. hooray for making it to knitting on time thursday! i cheated and took the bus home from school. i didn't have a jacket.

this post is boring even me. let's see. yesterday was school, books are expensive, new bag, yaaah! mouthbreathers in government, geeeesh! mouthbreathers in english comp ONE *stabs self* mildly spooky ride home at ten at night, lugging a kitchen sink of books. sunday - sleeping? inconsequential, i'm fairly sure. saturday... space rock is still boring, adventures are awesome, especially in a burned out abandoned house that was, to my paranoid mind, a gigantic rusty nail. i forget the past week already. damn this staying busy shit.

so yeah. i'm back, like st. murse. for the next week and a half i will try to torment you all into coming to my birthday at the grand (formerly eric's billiards) on the 26th. it's drinking, and uh, playing pool and indoor smoking if you want to?

I heart passive-aggressive notes.

agile and mobile; or, a real post with words and everything!

unemployment is agonizing, as always. i worry about money, the school thing gets more complicated with each step, and drinking increases. i got a car though, and need to practice driving with the stick. hopefully everything will resolve itself soon. it all makes choo so angry. i like this laptop thing. maybe i'll be able to get one.

i dunno. do you like the shitty photo posting at least? it amuses me.

Fucking awesome.

Blig.