wave_function's Xanga

The Girl Across From Me

Thu, 09 Oct 2008 02:35:37 GMT

Vibrating floor beneath my feet, wheels turning, bus's rumbling. Sparse random people scattered sitting, staring out windows and through each other. I sit alone, across the aisle looking curiously as a large girl rests down on a seat. Her body barely coffined within straining fabric as she searches through a bulging pink backpack.

One stop later a petite blond steps aboard, smart pinstripe, sharp thin cell, smooth and serious. She sits beside me, all her attention poured into the cell. Is it business, legal? Important ramblings in unmemorable disjointed phrases pass through my consciousness. The bus rolls on.

Looking up, I see the large girl stare at the petite professional. Her eyes infatuated with what they see. I try to see what the girl sees, but the professional is turned away, intent on the floor and absorbed in the cell. Minutes pass and I notice the large girl won't turn away. She is transfixed like a child staring into the sun. I begin to stare at her as she stares at the professional.

She reaches into her pink backpack and begins munching on a cookie, never taking her eyes off. Crumbs falling, no notice. Another cookie, crumbs. Shifting in the seat as her clothes protest their strain. Staring.

Her face scrunches up for a moment as she jerks her head back, never taking her eyes off. Thirty seconds later, again. And another cookie.

I look beside me, no notice from the pin stripes. Upright, cross legged, long blond hair in shimmering repose upon a small defined frame. Oblivious as the girl across from her continues staring and cringing and eating.

As the bus jerks to its last stop, I get up to leave, noticing the petite professional still sits absorbed, an unknowing hypnotic to the girl across from her, still sitting. And another cookie.

Washington Mutual Ephemera

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 20:51:20 GMT

My dad lost about $20,000 in the Washington Mutual bankruptcy, stock he bought maybe ten years ago. I remember him asking me several months back what my opinion of the company was. Silly me, I never imagined they'd go belly-up, and the last six months only speculators were trading it.

Spray painted graffiti is seen on the entrance of a Washington Mutual branch in Los Angeles, Friday, September 26, 2008. Washington Mutual, one of the nation's largest banks, was seized by the Federal Deposit Insurance Corp. Thursday, and then sold to JPMorgan Chase & Co. (AP Photo: Hector Mata)

A group of investors are bugging congressmen/govt to distribute what they can from the Wamu corpse. I does seem underhanded what went down.
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Is Xanga in competition with other social networking sites on who can cram the most random, annoying, browser-crashing junk on a page?

Public Plonebaries

Wed, 25 Jun 2008 18:17:36 GMT

I noticed my local, small town library had a Plone manual office copy, which is strange given that my giant university library has nothing on Plone.

I did some poking around and found: The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation gave a $750,000 staying-connected grant to the State Library in Iowa, which in turn trains librarians on site maintenance and hosts nearly 300 Public Library websites in Iowa. And they're all using what system? PLONE!

I didn't notice other Gates Foundation grant-getting states using Plone, so it must've been a local decision.

Sleepless thoughts

Thu, 08 May 2008 09:01:10 GMT

I heard a story on NPR tonight, Two Families Grapple with Sons' Gender Preferences, involving young (<6 yrs) boys who believe they're girls. Their behavior involves playing with feminine toys, preferring the company of females, and wanting to dress in feminine clothing. It got me thinking: these gender-associated devices aren't simply social constructs -- they must actually be physical extensions of our primal values.

I've always thought dresses were a device of female oppression. At least that's what I've picked up from those angry Sunday mornings when my sisters yelled at my dad for making them wear flower-print dresses to church service.

Apparently, though, dresses (and the colors pink/blue, toys, etc.) all have value associations distinct from social constructs.

Testosterone heightens sexual stimulation with the color 'red' but that might not have anything to do with blue or pink. I don't have a clue about the dresses thing.

Maybe the kids in the NPR story are using social expectations in conjunction with their gender identity perception.

On this note on society and self, an idea has been bugging me for the last month: Individuals affect society and society affects individuals -- evolution, genetic algorithms. If I can't figure out the proper algorithm for a problem, why not build a system that can figure it out for me? The random algorithm would be like the DNA for each agent; the dataset would be the environment. Natural selection favors the agents best able to make predictions on the dataset. I'm going to work on this after finals, if nothing else than to get away from everyone making plans for me this summer.

Hot Mess

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 02:45:18 GMT

Seeing a lot of petite gays with flat-ironed hair lately. They all look like Christian Siriano from Project Runway.

A long while ago I ran across a Xangan's depressing blog entry about turning 25 and getting old. Everything's downhill and whatnot. I was 17 or so, and being so old was so far off. Now, goddamn, I'm turning 25. In a month I'll hit the adult stage, and bye bye any vestige of youth. No more bright ideas, because my brain will shrink. My muscles will atrophy, and I'll have to shop around for a sturdy, reasonably-priced wheelchair or cane.

I've been losing hair since puberty, so that won't be new. Thank God for minoxidil. But (Kenny came in and started talking and now I've lost my thought)

Fierce hot mess. Tranny. what?

My Journal, Day 2600 (wow, that's a big number)

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 21:48:39 GMT

Evidently I have a facebook. I'll get around to that sometime.

Should these entries have a purpose, is this for public consumption? Seems more like a journal I keep upon my desk where people pass by and make notations.
"You feel sad about that?! She's no good for you dawg. Keep awesome!"

I guess so. I've found sentence-completion exercises are pretty good at finding out things you didn't know you knew. Don't look at me like that.
"I procrastinate because..."
I suck at life.
I can fail on my own terms.
I like the satisfaction of not doing anything.
Doing stuff feels like work.
I like the anticipation of doing something more than actually doing it.
Rocky Horror is on again.

That'll be in my private written journal once I get around to making one. I got the notebook out for it; it's been sitting on my desk for a week. I'm right on that sucker as soon as I finish this journal entry. And after I get a soda. ...organize that sock drawer...

Since it's been awhile, and I need a reference point, my life news:

ex-boyfriend got 50 years in prison for murder. I don't know how to feel about that. He's an altruist, mystic, idiot, and his butt is likely worn through by now, which is too bad. But then I remember he helped murder a boy, and one can't forgive him for that.
Living in another place, soon to be another next month.
Boyfriend building a business model on renting houses to sex offenders. Business is good.
Selling books.
Throwing copies of Dostoevsky at the kitties. Take that Russian literature!
I drive a geo metro. 50 mpg. Beat that. I don't need to pick up women, so there.
I'm avoiding studying for economics by writing this. I better stop now and do that.

First I'll do my therapeutic exercises on ending procrastination. Then I'll study.

Cappuccino with ScatteredBrains

Fri, 11 Jan 2008 00:21:44 GMT

I woke up this morning in the middle of a homosexual three-way. I really just wanted to jump in the shower and jet to the dentist's. Still don't have anything organized for next semester. Maybe they'll kick me out of University so I'll have to go AWOL and relocate incognito. The desert's good for solar power, but Alaska is nice cold money. I could live with my cousin up there, vacation in Hawaii. Pour booze over myself every night for hollering locals.

Spent the last week kissing boys on PS2's Bully. It's good fun. Who knew you only had to give a boy flowers for his love?

C'est la vie.

Back to Normal

Tue, 11 Dec 2007 01:18:05 GMT

The sheriff's decided we're not running a meth lab. "yay," I guess.

Another note, I'm contemplating just traveling and making money a la "Electroboy."

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Sun, 02 Oct 2005 05:51:36 GMT

This guy thinks Akron is pretty unusual