Irrsinn.net: taking joy in human unreason

2004 May

Mundane, but lovely, fun.

My poor parents: I’ve probably been in their apartment 12 hours since I’ve been in Charlotte, and I was sleeping 10 of those.

I’m currently in Chapel Hill in Michael’s dorm room, chilling while Michael learns some guitar from our buddy Nathan. We got here yesterday afternoon, toured (some of) the campus, ate some good deli-eqsue food, and played some sand volleyball.

Damn UNC is big compared to Rose. It’s ridiculous. We walked for a good mile or so, and didn’t even see the humanities buildings or all the residence halls. I can give a good tour of Rose (seeing labs, residence halls, gym, etc.) in a half hour, even if I run my mouth constantly. Whoo.

The sand volleyball was brutal. I fell once hard enough to bruise my ass, hurt some lower back muscles, and give myself a headache, and caught the ball once with my chin hard enough to send me checking for chipped teeth. I got sand everywhere, and was picking grains out of my mouth for the rest of the evening. The guys we played with were cool, though, and friendly even to me and Nathan, who couldn’t play for shit.

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Home safe and partying.

Obviously, given that I was able to post the last entry, I am home safe. I had to leave some of my stuff with Nikolai, who’s going back to school sooner than I am and will hold my stuff there for me.

I had barely gotten my stuff in the apartment when the phone rang and Michael was asking if I was going to go over to the shindig at Jenny’s house. I grabbed my mother’s car keys and was gone, no shower, no change of clothing. Yuck, but I was anxious and excited.

Details of the shindig would be inane and odd, but one of the highlights was when all twelve of us climbed into Michael’s van in the Krispy Kreme line. Actually, the highlight was watching the people’s faces in the line as all of us got out of the van, one by one. We must have looked like some psychos.

I wanted to get an idea of everyone’s mental state, and while I did manage to get an inkling, I’m worried about some folks. It’s hard to name names, since most of them read this. I don’t feel like toeing the line between between being frank and being hella rude tonight, and I doubt I could do so successfully as tired as I am. Suffice it to say that one friend paid a little too much attention to me (maybe I’m the only one willing to listen to him at this point), one friend seemed a little too uncomfortable with herself, and about three folks are sitting on some dark shit that two of them are for sure going to spit out before this week is up. Or arms will be twisted.

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Off the road

(Written Friday, May 28, 19:38 Rose-Hulman time)

You ever lay in bed at the end of a day and as you look back, wonder if everything that happened actually happened to you?

I told Nikolai last night [the night before we left] that I suspected something bad would happen on this trip with Johnny.

Nikolai and I departed the Haute around 10:00 this morning, cars loaded, everything set. Things went well until I almost got sideswipped off the road by a semi just past Indianapolis.

I stopped to take a piss break and calm my nerves just after that.

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3 tips to moving out of a dorm without getting a "Look" from Lissa

I would have thought these would be obvious, but given the ridiculous crap I’ve seen going on on my floor this week, apparently not.

  1. Pack as though you are the only one moving your shit out. If you can’t lift it or comfortably drag it, pack it lighter or get a dolly. Don’t assume Joe Blow Brawn is going to come along and carry that 5 feet by 5 feet by 5 feet box filled solid with books for you. Seriously, don’t inflict your packing troubles on others.

  • If you don’t want to make the trips, don’t pack all that shit. Packrats need not bitch about the 25 trips they’ve had to make to their car. It is okay to throw some things out. Yes, you accumulate things through the year–hell, I’ve probably got twice as much stuff as I had coming in–but either suck it up and hit those three flights of stairs 15 times, hire a pack mule, or throw shit out. Your room was probably a junk-filled pig-sty all year anyway, so the last may be a good option for you. (Actually, if you could hire the pack mule for the sheer hilarity of attempting to convince it to go down the turning stairs with your stuff, it’d certainly make my year…)
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    A rock and a hard place.

    I felt very, very sad as we packed up the Thorn office yesterday. Despite my growing disillusionment and worry, what we had this year was a good thing. I’ve learned a lot about people and power-wielding and social dynamics that was only theoretical for me before. Very eye-opening. Very tiring, as well, even though it wasn’t quite tiring enough to send me scurrying back to only the technical aspects of the paper.

    And it’s not just the Thorn that was being packed up yesterday. It was, in many respects, my freshman year. I’ve put a lot of energy into the Thorn this year, much to the pleasure of the higher-ups. After I moved my stuff back into my room, I found myself just sort of sitting here, wondering what to do now, as if I did something odd and different in the Thorn office when I was by myself that didn’t involve just surfing the Internet and reading news. As though I couldn’t just sit in my room and do the same thing.

    It’s the typical separation issues of someone that tends to obsess. I do this everytime I fixate and am forced to take a break.

    I’ve been able to skim through this year with (roughly) a 3.75 GPA (well, depending on how the chemistry grade comes out this term), and spend most of my time on the Thorn. I certainly didn’t obsess over NSBE this way–hell, they couldn’t have come up with enough work for me to do had I latched on similarly, and I don’t have the mental energy to do both with the same vigor.

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    Recent Posts

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    Attending a Charlottean Protest

    I visited uptown Charlotte tonight, amidst the current protests and unrest after Keith Scott’s death. My friend and I had a few tidbits of info on where people were meeting, but nothing concrete, so we wandered along several streets.

    In areas where people weren’t protesting, businesses were closed, and the streets were unusually silent for 20:30 on a Friday night. Troops stood in clumps of three on corners, waving or saying hello when you passed them. The occasional humvee or police SUV drove by.

    Things were more lively at the Omni Hotel, where folks had covered the sidewalk in chalk. There were lots of media there: it was clearly an “allowed”, acceptable, media-consumable gathering. I’d maybe characterize it as a space for quieter expression of grief, although it was criticized by another gathering as essentially being for the white people. The writings were names of people killed and sayings that many of us are familiar with: “hands up don’t shoot”, “when will we have justice?”, etc. Religious figures were around, praying with people.

    Further down Trade St., past the bus station, a group had gathered in front of some government building. My friend and I stayed there for a while. They were chanting “I am my brother’s’ keeper!” and folks were stepping up to share their perspectives. Four National Guards and a cop stood between the crowd and the building (with the aid of crowd control barriers), utterly stoic when the crowd shouted questions at them.

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    Remastering “The Majesty of Colors”

    Folks probably know that I make video games as part of Future Proof Games, but maybe not what we’re doing at the moment. Many, many (many) years ago, Gregory made “(I Fell in Love With) The Majesty of Colors”, a very sweet Flash game about balloons and drowning.

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    July 3rd 2016
    Tags: On Life and Love, , No Comments

    First Hair Highlights

    The first time I dyed my locs.

    One of the first pictures taken of my newly-dyed locs.

    I did it! I’ve had locs twice now, for a total of almost five years, and each time I’ve gone, “I should be bold and dye my hair!”

    But it’s very permanent, especially since my natural hair color likely needs to be lightened for color to show much. Plus, lightening hair can be damaging. Last thing I want is to have my locs falling out. I’ve literally spent years growing these things; I’m not ashamed to say I’m a little attached to them, even if I don’t name them or count them.

    But finally, with the aid of recommendations from friends and family on a beautician, I got my hair did.

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    Ossuary 25% Off on Steam!

    Steam Summer Sale 2016 Offer

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    When a Nasal Polyp Isn’t a Nasal Polyp

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    Questionable Decisions: Hot Yoga

    I made a questionable decision this afternoon.

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