Same old.
Todd A. Delzinko's journal

Tuesday, April 22nd in the year 2008
11:16 pm - complainy
Man, I still love my Lono icon.

I hate the sheer, overwhelming multiplicity of papers I have to write. It's like, I've only got so many words and if I use them up churning out explorations of targeted academic issues, I won't have any left to talk to people or order food. I may starve to death, one hand still clutching a rolled-up bunch of scribbledy notes.

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Thursday, April 17th in the year 2008
12:03 am - There's room enough.
Wow, it's been almost a year. Fortunately, I'm still pretty self-involved so here are some pictures of me from my friend's birthday shindig. Did I ever write about going back to school? If I didn't, hey, I went back to school! Now I have three weeks to go! Also, I just almost died of infection so I feel like my collegiate experience is complete.

Man, how do I do a cut?

Oh yeah. Thanks, FAQ!Collapse )

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Wednesday, May 23rd in the year 2007
10:14 pm - Poison Money
"Okay, well then come back, okay? And come back with a lot of force and take care of those bandits."

Let's listen to the Streets and write a journal entry.

Today, I worked and slept and that's about it. I'm all cracked out on allergy medication so my brain is not functioning effectively. While shelving, which is my job, I would lose track of the alphabet. That made properly organizing the various literary items I was stocking difficult to organize, but I satisfied my concern about this conundrum by assuming that nobody wanted them anyway. Who reads anymore?

When I am suffering ill effects of any sort, I spend most of my work day loathing everything. It's an interesting shift in my personal paradigm because generally, I just sort of nod solemnly at my environment.

I can't listen to the Streets and do anything else apparently. I keep getting distracted and mumbling along in painfully contrived cockney: "Did you know cigarette lighters were invented before matches?" Also, "If you get hammered, you don't get to nail!"

So I just nod solemnly at my environment no matter how absurd, spirit-numbing or literally painful it becomes. However, because I had this synergistic blend of allergy medication hangover and caffeine, I ended up being utterly and completely irritated by every facet of my surroundings. "Look at this wall!" I'd say to random co-worker number four. "I know it's holding up the ceiling, but we could really do better." Random co-worker responds with "What are you talking about?" so I say, "Oh, are you and wall there good friends? You think the two of you are better than me? Look! Look!" Here I'm waving my hands in the air. "Your buddy the wall can't do that, can it? It can't even move! Well, unless there's an earthquake, and then I hope it falls right on you!"

June 3rd is the Faint at Caine's. I am totally hyped, even though at this point I may be walking there to enjoy the show entirely by my lonesome. Fortunately, I'm not afraid of Americans. That digression would work a lot better if that was a Faint song.

This is what happens when you try to write something without having something to write about. Oops!

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Friday, May 18th in the year 2007
11:55 pm - Aggressor
"Klytus, I'm bored."

Man, I love vs. songs. They're terribly contrived and usually just feature a couple slightly complimentary songs mashed together, but something about them makes me all tingly and, as a result, I end up listening to bands I can't stand solo.

Right now, it's Tom Petty and Afroman and Luniz and Cam Farrar singing to me about marijuana. I might conceivably listen to Tom Petty on his own, but I don't even know who the other people are offhand. Also, Tom's oeuvre really peaked out for me with Don't Come Around Here No More.

My favorite thing about working at Borders, at the moment, is that I currently have approximately four people to whom I am making exceedingly ludicrous claims because they enjoy disagreeing with every single thing I say. I dragged the old "After Red Hot Chili Peppers, no new bands need to have ever been formed" trope out, which always causes a severe amount of rancor because it's absolute lunacy. "How can you say that?" is often the reaction, which prompts me to smirk and shake my head in completely dismissive fashion. "Yeah, like anybody's done anything better than the Peppers," I respond with a suitable tone. That is how you win an argument: make your assertion so completely faulty that the other party is forced to concede all reason to move far enough towards it to even have a conversation.

Admittedly, sometimes people will realize they prefer not talking to you outright, but that is a risk I'm always willing to take, especially the more caffeine I consume.

Miss Kittin v. PJ Harvey v. Thom Yorke v. Corey Hart v. Human League! Wow! I'm going to make my own versus song with about eighteen bands and called it Sub-a-Dub. It'll be insanely loud screeching with occasional bits of Golden Girls vaguely discernible for the two minutes you retain your hearing. Once deafness sets in, Sub-a-Dub will haunt your dreams until, late one night, you crawl out of bed, put on a bunny suit and run screaming its name down Main Street. Maybe Corey Hart will write a song about you: "He wore his bunny suit at night so he could so he could hide Easter eggs."

It seems kind of like cheating to use PJ Harvey and Thom's duet but still list them separately in the versus format. It'd be like up-loading Highwayman as Johnny Cash v. Willie Nelson v. Kris Kristoffersen v. the guy I always forget. Actually, that's a lie; I know it's Waylon. I always know it's Waylon.

Bustah Rhymes seems a little busy for versus work; his songs already strike me as versuses. Versusi? Versi? V?

"If you had known anything about the true nature of the universe, anything at all, you would've hidden from it in terror."

I have to work in approximately six hours. Fortunately, I slept all afternoon instead of doing anything worthwhile. Afternoon slumber always prompts these absurd dreams for me, which I am not accustomed to since my subconscious generally satisfies itself with the most boring explorations of self imaginable, like me walking down a road. There's nothing to see on the road, and it is endless. I'm sure it could be a metaphorical delineation of my postmodern tendencies, but it's just as likely my brain is lazy.

Afternoon dreams, however, have this strange contextual reliance on significance applied to completely inappropriate, fantastic situations. For instance, the most vivid dream I've had recently portrayed a racist filling station, which manifested with indescribable physical manifestation in a dream that ended with me standing amidst burnt ruins, merrily chewing on a Grandma's Brand soft cookie. When I awoke, my brain went Did I just eat an effing cookie? Then I realized it was because I triumphed over an inanimate object with disagreeable opinions. I suppose that's an appropriate situation in which to eat a cookie.

"It's what they call tears; it's a sign of their weakness."

Golden Girls is on! My three movie quotes are all from the same movie character, who is not on Golden Girls. If he was, I would own every single season and watch it from dawn til dusk til dawn again.

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Thursday, May 3rd in the year 2007
10:03 pm - Personal Survey
It is like a survey generated by other people! Let's do this thing on a lonely Thursday night. The loneliness may influence some of my responses!

1. how long have you been friends with the person you have/had been friends with the longest, ever in your life?
My friend continuum is not terribly impressive. I think my current lengthiest friendship is with porcupinemattie, but even that had a pretty substantial gap in the middle. It has been about eleven years though.

2. (assuming you've crossed this boundary) were you really ready when you lost your virginity? (i mean that as a kind of after-thought, not of a "yeah, I was ready, so i did it," kind of thing.)
Assuming I've crossed that boundary? Man, do I seem like that anti-swank? I may not be a hipster, but I've got four limbs and a heart that's full of passion!

Yeah, I was over-ready. That's why I did it with somebody I ought not have.

3. what is your favorite musical instrument, and can you play it? (uh oh, i snuck in two questions on that one. forgive me?)
I love all instruments if they make songs I like. I can't really pinpoint one, though I guess I'd be lame and say "guitar" just because so much of what I enjoy begins with it. I can't play any musical instruments, and I've tried on several occasions to attain some degree of skill with them.

4. have you ever been prescribed drugs?
Yes! They were necessary though. The doctor was not my good friend.

5. when you think of "love", who is the first person you think of?
Well, I think of George Costanza, but he's a television sitcom character and not an actual person. Then I think of Billy Corgan because of that Smashing Pumpkins' song Love that I can no longer stand but used to love. I finally arrive at someone I know when I ponder the strange case of myself and the British girl I met approximately five days ago. There could have been sparks, man, and then maybe a fire! Well, assuming we ever progressed beyond me saying, "Hey, hey, hey, tell me about the time you lost your shoes cuz I'm right chuffed about that bonny lad," and she'd reply, "Wot?"

She's heading back across the pond now. Cor blimey, guv'ner.

6. why did you create a live journal account?
Well, that was seven years ago. A quick glance at those early posts indicates I seem to have made a Live Journal to write about how my cats at the time (Cactus and Rocky) were tearing up the wallpaper in my apartment.

7. I'm not going to write out 6 goddamn questions, so here's one big one: Explain in your livejournal which songs you like listening to while having drugged sex with friends you're in love with.
Actually, I generally prefer to have a film in the background for the interaction you inquired about. That way, during lulls in the intercourse, there's something to follow that won't prompt me to hum. For some reason, quoting the awesomeness of The Big Lebowski is less disruptive than belting out part of Rhinestone Cowboy.

I totally did that kind of question when I posted on ttingle's opening salvo of this meme.

8. Alternately: what was the worst sex you've ever had and how much alcohol was involved, because we all know you're a drunk. Should that have ended with a question mark?
More alcohol than one man can safely consume. So much I can't remember any details, which I would hope you wouldn't want anyway. All I retain are murky notions of octopi and tiny gnomes, crying.

1. Friends - Who's that one friend you talk about a lot behind their back? Maybe like...the skank of the group.
Man, I am probably the friend everybody talks about. I'm not really a skank though; I just have a strong, uninformed opinion about everything.

2. Sex - You're the type that's always on the bottom, huh?
Not so much. Do you think I'm lazy? I am absolutely the opposite of lazy. I like to ponder the calorie burn of almost every activity I partake in, actually.

3. Music - Do you like rap?
Like all genres, I do enjoy some rap.

4. Drugs - Wanna smoke?
Smoking makes me absolutely the most boring person on the face of the earth. All I do is squeeze my hand and feel so much it hurts inside.

5. Love - How much do you love Tiffany Mae Tingle?
More than I could ever express in mere words. The nearest approximation would go as follows: it's like the flood that prompted Noah to build his legendary Ark, only the whole universe is under water.

6. Livejournal - Have you ever submitted an application and pictures to one of those..."hot or not" communities that I'm not sure even exist anymore?
Nope. I know I rank squarely in the 'or' range.

this is lame and you know it.
That's... that's not a question.


Wednesday, May 2nd in the year 2007
2:00 pm - Experimental Question
My Speech class revealed to me that I am entirely too excited about self-disclosure to most anybody so I've no qualm with issuing the following edict, copied from ttingle:

Ask me a question about each of the following:

1. Friends
2. Sex
3. Music
4. Drugs
5. Love
6. Livejournal

No matter how rude, sexual, or confidential, I'll answer it.

Admittedly, the quality of my answer is not guaranteed. See my various and sundry survey efforts for an assumptive basis on which to forecast my responses.

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Tuesday, May 1st in the year 2007
1:43 am - The empty potato
Man, I am doing finals.

I hate finals. I don't mind the tests so much because my brain is like some scientific experiment engineered to take the kinds of tests they utilize these days. No, the problem is people who are all, "Hey, brah, how're your finals, son?" and I have to respond because I am taking finals and I can't lie to avoid the conversation. I was in the dorm bathroom and this dude made eye contact across the stall barrier to tell me he was totally stoked about his Comp 2 final. When somebody looks at me as I'm attempting to void my body's waste, I freeze up. Normally, I am a paragon of socialization, but that one instance always makes me a tad uncomfortable.

Today, I ordered a couple shirts from Achewood. One says "I am the guy who sucks" on the front and "plus I got depr-ession" on the back, which totally rules.

Even if I fail out of college, I will have shirts that say "Life, man. Life!" I feel positive like a covalent bond end lacking electron density.

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Sunday, April 8th in the year 2007
12:14 pm - Survey Purvey
Kaiser Chiefs. A paper on the Real ID Act of 2005. Consumption of tacos. This is my Easter.

1. Do you like cheese?
No, cheese makes baby C'Thulu wail with the agony of a thousand burning souls.

2. Have you ever smoked heroin?
No, but I've eaten smoked heron.

3. Do you own a gun?
Nope. I don't own much of anything at the moment though. If I had a car, I could load up the trunk and take off for parts unknown, disappearing into the sunset with a wink and a nod and a slight tilt of my head.

4. Does affluence have a mitigating effect on second generation discrimination?
Several studies have shown an empirical decrease in behaviors associated with second generation discrimination with an accompanying increase in affluence amongst the parties affected.

5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments?
Only when they're going to cut me open and implant tiny transmitters.

6. What do you think of hot dogs?
I think they are an offense to all that is good and proper in the world.

7. What's your favorite Christmas song?
Christmas at Ground Zero by Weird Al. That's nostalgia!

Here is my favorite memory about this song: my friend was an inveterate liar and he made up a music video for the song whole-cloth. It was so awesome and I wanted it to be real so bad, but alas, it was not. However, I'll always carry the imagery he manifested until I die. Here is a snippet of the ending: "So like all these bombs go off KABOOM and you see dust and stuff and Weird Al crawls out from under some debris and waves and these other people who are all deformed and messed-up by the radiation stuff I guess come out too and stand behind him waving. Then you see Santa's sled careening out of control and it hits where the waving people are and they all blow up and it totally rocks!"

"It's Christmas at ground zero;
"the button has been pressed
"the radio just let us know
"that this is not a test."

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Scotch. Bourbon. A monstrous carafe of children's blood. No matter what I say here, it won't be interesting.

9. Can you do push ups?
Singular? Yes. Plural? Maybe.

10. Is your bathroom clean?
OSU hires people to clean it. They mostly do a good job. Sometimes they even make a half-hearted effort to scrub away the profanity.

11. What's your favorite piece of jewlery?
Jewlery? Ha ha ha. I want to get a necklace with a giant sign that says "jewlery." Actually, no, I don't. It's not funny. It's just a typo or someone's poor attempt to spell.

13. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?
I roll around in garbage. A lot.

14. Do you have friends?
Somewhere. I think they all moved to a distant island where they sit around pondering philosophical questions about me, like why I enjoy tacos and nachos but not taco salad, the fusion of the two items.

15. Do you miss someone?
The only time I don't feel the misery of loneliness is when I'm so cracked out on caffeine that it is all I can do to not leap onto the table and declare this land claimed in the name of the Queen of Pop Music, Her Majesty Sarah Nixey. It's just the facts of life.

16. Middle name?
I'm guessing that's a name that comes between the first and last name. Since the middle is elastic, it'd be better to inquire "Middle names?"

17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment:
1. Man, I sure am writing an awesome paper about the Real ID. Thanks, New Hampshire!
2. I am all sorts of out of practice on doing the survey thing. My grasp and employment of nuance are second to everyone.
3. Once more into the breach!

Oh wait, I didn't name them. Okay: 'William,' 'Jongo Congo' and 'Abraham.'

18. Name the last 3 things you have bought.
1. Tacos.
2. Tacos.
3. Tacos.

19. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink:
1. I hydrate with water.
2. I dehydrate with booze.
3. I crack out on liquids containing caffeine, often in amounts unsafe for pregnant women, children or people with heart conditions.

20. Current worry?
I'm going to die alone, most likely in a ditch somewhere. Hopefully I will be concealed with a rain coat at the very least; I would hate to be dead and wet.

21. Current hate?
This question. I wish it said 'current hat.' Then I could say, "Well, I'm not wearing a hat, but I could be and then watch out!"

22. Favorite place to be?
I'm good anywhere. The place I don't like to be is my dorm room; I will go sit somewhere and read a book to escape its depressing confines. Sorrow, thy name is standardized collegiate housing.

23. How did you bring in the New Year?
Drinking. How else would somebody bring in the New Year?

24. Where would you like to go?
I'm up for a road trip.

25. Best television punch?
See previous entry for House punches Chase. I think I kept calling him 'Chance' in that post. He'll always be Chance in my heart.

26. Greatest unhappiness resulting from food?
I guess one of the multiple times I've gotten to enjoy food poisoning. It's never pleasant.

27. Do you own slippers?
Not a one ever. I do have thick warm socks I employ when the weather calls for it though.

28. What shirt are you wearing?
Green long-sleeved. I am listening to the Faint's Take Me to the Hospital. If I ever suffer a catastrophic accident and am bleeding profusely, I hope I have enough presence of mind to find this song on the internet and play it in lieu of directly requesting transportation to the hospital.

29. Do you burn or tan?
I get slightly pinker. Then I fade back to Eastern European pastiness.

30. Favorite color?
The Faint Let the Poison Spill from Your Throat.

31. Would you be a pirate?
I'd really be better as a caveman or viking, I think. I can only imagine with a faint smile on my lips the wacky misadventures I'd get into as my ship plundered and pillaged the villages of the European coast.

32. What songs do you sing in the shower?
Highwaymen's Highwayman. I even do self applause for the bits where each country music legend jumps in, inspired by this You Tube video. Careful, Kristofferson! You almost showed an emotion!

Glen Campbell did that song when I saw him at the Tulsa State Fair. For those of you in the know, yes, that is the Best Night Of My Life (BNOML, pronounced Bee-Nommel).

33. Do you like gum?
Yes. I wish I had some now.

34. Have you a crumpet?
No crumpets, sorry.

35. What's in your pocket right now?
Keys. Cell phone. Silver money.

36. Last thing that made you laugh?
I haven't laughed today. I've no idea what made me laugh yesterday. Probably myself. "Oh Todd," I say as I roll my eyes and cackle with merriment, "you/I are/am such a character!"

"Yeah?" I reply. "Then why am I so utterly alone and adrift, huh?"

"Because," I have to point out now, "you're a character nobody likes."

Then I probably sob.

37. Best bed sheets as a child?
Dinosaurs! Those are the only ones I remember; they win by default!

38. Worst injury you've ever had?
Broken something or other. I was little and they had to bathe me in the sink. It probably crippled me socially for life.

39. What is your biggest pet peeve?
The Spoon Remix, where they just add some random element to an awesome song and sell it to me again (for free via the internet these days, admittedly) as a remix with a new artistic vision.

40. How many TVs do you have in your house?
I don't even have a house to keep TVs in.

41. Who is your loudest friend?
Whichever one is yelling, I guess.

42. Who is your most silent friend?
The wall. It never says anything.

43. Does someone have a crush on you?
Probably not.

44. Do you wish on shooting stars?
I wish they would fall on a childless rich guy who was secretly my long-lost uncle.

45. What is your favorite book?
Flann O'Brien The Third Policeman. Maybe. It is hard for me to decide. Now I think it is Morris Berman's Dark Ages America. Now I think it is Extraordinary Popular Delusion or the Madness of Crowds. I think I will settle on that last one; it is the safest and yet most awesome.

46. What is your favorite candy?
Brach's Chicks and Rabbits. Fortunately, they are only available for one month out of the year.

47. What song do/did you want played at your wedding?
Firewater Bourbon and Division. Actually, no, I'd want something totally absurd like Rowwen Heze. I want people to say, "Wait, why is he playing this at his wedding?" and then continue, "Well, he can't like bands other people have even heard of. Also, who ever heard of somebody marrying themselves?"

48. What song do you want played at your funeral?
Oingo Boingo No One Lives Forever. MONEY. IN. THE. BANK.

49. What were you doing at 12 AM last night?
Writing on Live Journal.

50. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up?
Where are my pants? Oh, on my legs.


12:58 am - Television Survey
pick your top six shows without looking at the questions, then answer them.

1. Seinfeld
2. House
3. Arrested Development
4. King of the Hill
5. Freaks and Geeks
6. Newsradio

01. Who is your favourite character from #2?
Doc Chance is maximum. Favorite scene: Chance picks the diagnosis that means the patient screwed up.

02. Who is your least favourite character from #4?
Bobby Hill. The episodes about him make me sad generally. The only exception was the awesome Valentine's Day episode where Bobby, after being inspired by Bill's example, dressed up like Cupid and embarassed Connie at a party. The highlight of the episode, of course, was Hank and Peggy laying in their coffins in the garage.

03. What would a crossover between #1 and #5 include?
Elaine dates Daniel Desario, not realizing he's in high school. Kim Kelly and George Costanza bond because of their insane families, who battle each other over ownership of a corner newsstand. The freaks idolize Kramer, who wants their high school to use him as the mascot. Jerry does something boring about neatness and Lindsay realizes life isn't about something or other.

04. Who is your favourite ship from #6?
Newsradio didn't star any boats. I guess the station was a rocket ship in one episode though.

05. If you were to set one person from #3 and one person from #6 on a blind date, who would they be?
Lucille and Jimmy James. Fireworks!

06. If you could meet one person from #4 and spend the day with them, who would it be, and what would you do?
Dale. Uncover conspiracies. Drink beer.

07. If you could change one thing about #2's plot line, what would you change?
The one show with a current plot contrivance I don't like happened to be number two; yay for me! I would completely dispel any certainty about House pining after Dr. Cuddy.

08. Explain a relationship between two people (not necessarily romantic) from show #5, and why you like the relationship between them.
I'll never forget at the beginning when the football player tells the cheerleader "I just love you so much it scares me." They have a lot of room for personal growth.

09. If the lead title characters (first name in the credits) from #1 and #3 were both drowning, and you could only save one, who would it be?
Since Jerry is my least favorite character on Seinfeld, he loses to pretty much anybody else. Ironically, he's gotten much funnier as he's grown older and bitterer in the intervening years.

10. If you could change the title characters' order in the credits for #4, what order would you choose?
It's a cartoon. They don't really do credits in an alterable way.

11. If you were able to add a new character, any kind of character you wanted, to the storyline for #6, what would the character be like, and what would their role be?
Every time they added somebody, the show got less entertaining. I guess I would add a giant eggplant monster that thinks it's Benito Mussolini since then at least I would have liked the last, abysmal season.

12. What happens in your favourite episode of show #2?
House doesn't give itself over to favorite episodes. Having issued that caveat, however, I can say that I do have a favorite episode because Chance is right, House is wrong and House punches Chase in the face. The next episode, however, no mention is made of this.

13. If you could kill off one of the characters in #1, who would it be and how would you do it?
Here is my Seinfeld heresy: After about four episodes, I loathed Newman. In fact, after those initial, fresh appearances, the only time he showed up that I marked out for was when he was driving the post office truck down Kramer's adopted highway and the flames leapt up around him. His anguished scream is music to my ears.

14. If you got the chance to visit the set for either show #3 or show #5, which would you choose?
Well, I would just get in the way at Arrested Development and at the set for Freaks and Geeks, I could awkwardly hit on Linda Cardellini so I'd have to opt for the latter.

15. If you could date anyone from any of these shows, which show and which person?
Oh, I kind of did that with 14. If, instead, I am being asked which fictional character I'd date, I don't particularly know. A rich one.

Oh, I got this from kittybrat.

[2 Comments>Comment.]

12:23 am - BAWG BAWG
Man, who would have thought I would use my Live Journal primarily as an outlet to look at pictures of other people's cats?

I'm so completely lacking in anything of substance to say. I go to OSU and spend most of my time staring blankly into space or at a book I'm supposed to be reading. I have started to accumulate acquaintances and, dare I say it, friends, as always tends to happen even when I supply myself caveats against it. I exist best in a state of perpetual binary oppositionals though.

I think Live Journal inspires a certain type of verbiage in me. Here, I wouldn't feel so bad discussing the spectrum of feelings currently jangling my brain like some sort of child's xylophone, each different color reverbating a specific tone that sounds vaguely musical but is, at its core, cacophonous. I'll write about how much I like Oingo Boingo's Insanity on My Space, but I wouldn't quote from it without placing it in a narrowly defined context there.

Basically, I'm all befuddled and confused, which indicates I'd be well-served to return to the textual environment where I feel comfortable indulging that. On the other hand, I am a dunce when I'm befuddled and confused so maybe I should not opt to pursue expression of that.

All I've sought lately is simplicity and instead, I've compounded my social complexity in ways I never anticipated. I'm oblivious to how to proceed and not make things worse. It's like a cascading storm of something I can't even begin to quantify. Maybe a wall of angry bees.

Sometimes, I'm just flinging words into the void. Fortunately, I'm full of them.


Sunday, February 11th in the year 2007
5:15 pm
The girl across from me in the computer lab is passed out with her face in the middle of her textbook. It is adorable.


2:55 pm - This Is Sounds Dove-Crying Float Monkey Nozzle Pursue
Ssszzzrrrrkkkk is the sound my brain is making right now. I filled my body with a massive dose of caffeine because that stimulant facilitates any efforts I expend in the pursuit of being collegiate. Strangely, it also makes me ecstatically happy in a fashion that doesn't feel artificial. Caffeine sizzles through my veins with narcotic effect; all I can do is firmly grasp the pommel of the saddle of life and hang on.

Lately I've become infatuated with the notion of different headspaces, which is a word that doesn't actually mean much of anything beyond "how I feel." However, if I instead qualify my 'headspace' as necessarily geared towards some action, life becomes a much more exciting proposition. It's like a totally free accessory I can plug in and use at my discretion; the toys of my youth always included other features so it's likely a fit of nostalgia, incorporeally manifested. Also, it's definitely better than the fear I've contracted meningitis, which two people at OSU have had in the last year. All they want to do is share their complete and abject contagious misery!

I wish I knew Latin. Admittedly, I could acquire that pool of knowledge with a book and some time, but my need for it is immediate and transient; the desire, I know, will pass. Instead I'll want a full understanding of Polylectic Reality or a bag full of tacos. I might even crave a full understanding of a bag full of tacos if my brain veers far enough into absolute rejection of attained comprehension. What is it, the philosopher poet asks, to know a chair? To know of a chair? To know of knowing of a chair? Yes. These are important questions equally applicable to bags full of tacos.

OSU's radio station suddenly wins my heart and mind by playing Silversun Pickups' Well Thought Out Twinkles. High fives!

Now I will try to do actual work since my initial caffeine high has dissipated somewhat. Yes.


Thursday, January 25th in the year 2007
7:41 pm - Youtube Vids
When I am using the OSU computer lab, I bring my earphones and just play videos off of Youtube in an effort to drown out the otherwise distracting sounds of other people breathing, typing and yelling into their cell phones. Here are some of those videos:

Best cut this, aye.Collapse )


Tuesday, January 23rd in the year 2007
6:11 pm - I, Badmouth
I have to take a Public Speaking class; when I had to introduce myself to the class, I found that I was filled with so much apprehension I could barely do more than blurt out my name, hobby and major before booking, hastily, back to my seat, flinging my pride and sense of accomplishment by the wayside in my rush to be reunited with anonymousness in the cozy home of my slightly too little desk/chair combo. Today we were supposed to give our first speech so I prepared the only way I knew how to combat my unexpected nervousness: I maximum caffeinated.

Our speeches only had to be two minutes, but I prepared by practicing rambling narratives that consumed upwards of three. It is fortunate I memorized some excess to throw in because, between being ill-at-ease and soaked to the gills with a stimulant, I set a frantic pace. My speech might have set a new land speed record if it hadn't been confined to one tiny classroom on the second floor of an inconsequential building dedicated primarily to English, Technical Writing and Language labs spinning eternally through space on a little planet we like to call Earth. Instead, I crushed my three minute opus into two minutes minus ten seconds, barely making the minimum and overwhelming my audience in a rush of personal information they never wanted to contend with in their entire lives. 'I have spoken to them, and they are diminished,' is basically the gist there.

I recall a few other people's presentations. We fit several different stereotypes quite effectively. Our assignment was to chronicle a miscommunication, identify the two communicative barriers that lead to this foul miscarriage of communicative justice and then express a potential resolution. Below are the people I remember, each lovingly labelled as their clichè, their story described to the best of my ability, the solution they proposed and the solution I personally find the most efficacious. I think I'll include why they stuck out in my mind too, on the off-chance you wondered.

They are: It's the guy who has to tell all of us how funny he is because otherwise, we're not going to know.
They said: "I groped blindly for a joke by conflating the textbook for Women's Studies with The Joy of Cooking."
They fixed it! "I guess I should've smiled or indicated that I was telling a hilarious joke through some other trigger, perhaps by first relating to my female friend that I'm really funny, it's just that nobody can tell."
I countered: "Don't speak."
I remembered: I always remember when people tell me they're funny, usually because I am then shocked and appalled when they are not. "You lie!" I have screamed at certain individuals. "You talk and you say words and they are all filthy lies!"

They are: The girl who was really, really into her high school's football team
They said: "So we seniors decided we would sit in the middle at the front and totally rock the clock all game long! But then we went to an away game and these freshmen sat there! They weren't supposed to sit in the middle, we were! We were the Tailgate Party, for life! Freshmen sat in the middle at the front and they weren't supposed to! They needed to be somewhere besides in the middle at the front because that's where we seniors were all supposed to sit and be awesome! One senior guy said he was going to punch a freshman! Because the freshman was sitting in the middle at the front where we were supposed to be!"
They fixed it! "We should have told the freshmen they couldn't sit in the middle at the front!"
I countered: "All the animals are burning!"
I remembered: She went three minutes and four seconds. It is too long. Not acceptable!

They are: The guy who totally didn't prepare.
They said: "So like my friend uh.... I mean, he sort of like looked at me and I didn't like the look but... uh... it was bad communication, like when you punch your brother in the eye and he tells on you so you lock him out of the house naked and then uh.... I guess I don't have enough buckeyes, you know? Can you ever have enough?"
They fixed it! "Uh... I should like... say stuff the right way."
I countered: "I concur wholeheartedly. Don't wing your speech though, friend; only those of us addicted to the devilishly playful mistress that is too much caffeine can do that effectively, and we still practice at least once."
I remembered: Did I mention I got to do timekeeping? When I held up the minute and a half sign, he just stood there for ten seconds to eat up some more time. We all grew very uncomfortable.

They are: The girl who super loves her ex-boyfriend.
They said: "My boyfriend and I had this fight and we broke up over the summer (parenthetical interruption: hey, me too. I should be friend with her ex-boyfriend) and he started talking (parenthetical interruption: that's talking talking, not just talking.) to one of my friends and they were all talking. Then we got back together over Christmas, but he got real skeevy (parenthetical interruption: that's my word. She said 'shady.') and I had to look at his cell phone so I did and I saw all these texts to my friend he'd been talking to. I dumped him again and found this great new guy but I found out later he was just closing things off with her and he'd gotten all weird because he was going to propose to me and he was really nervous!"
They fixed it! "I guess I shouldn't leap to conclusions and assume I know everything."
I countered: "I can't believe I typed all that out."
I remembered: I scoffed slightly and earned an unpleasant look from the professor. Hopefully, my professional time-keeping skill level regained whatever favor I squandered by being myself.

They are: The nervous girl who went before me.
They said: "Something about my mom."
They fixed it! "I will talk to my mom better."
I countered: "Yeah, I'll talk to your mom too."
I remembered: She stole my going-first-because-I-will-suck-most thunder. If you don't have a funny story to tell, you always get up there and foist it upon the crowd before they've had a chance to dispel their own nervousness. I guarantee none of them remember me well enough to type a blog like this.

They are: The guy who makes racist jokes with his friends of other races
They said: "I just took his joke about white people and substituted black people!"
They fixed it! "I guess I should be careful who is nearby and might hear my hilarious retooling."
I countered: "Why don't you make your own jokes?"
I remembered: It always bothers me when people just redo what someone else has done; even in a classroom context, I don't like to hear about how hilarious your friend is and how hilarious you therefore become by stealing his material. Sure, my story was about getting drunk and having an old man throw his beer on me, but I lived it. I didn't go and irk an old man after one of my friends had angered one and been doused; I made it happen totally without precedent. That's me. That's how I live. That's why all my clothes smell like old beer.

They are: The guy who just read his story.
They said: It was a decent enough story, but I found myself more intrigued by his C-Span approach to public speaking. Once I'm a Congressman, I'll never take my eyes off whatever report a lobbyist handed me to deliver to an adoring public (check my scathing political satire! That's why I'm POLI SCI fuh lyfe), but until then, I think I'll opt for occasionally looking at my audience. This time, I used notecards I'd scribbled on five minutes before class so I'd have a prop. I drew a car with an X on it, a guy holding a giant guitar and a flower.
They fixed it! I forget.
I countered: "Amen, brother! No one lives forever! Let's have a party; there's a full moon in the sky. It's the hour of the wolf and I don't wanna die."
I remembered: Man, I remember that I am kind of a hypocrite for my whole rant against stealing other people's jokes in the entry prior to this one. I do it all the time; I just don't tell anybody and when I get caught, I pretend like it was intentional. Occasionally, that can be embarassing: "Of course I wanted you all to think of the waning days of season two of Just Shoot Me! by cleverly referencing it with a double entendre employed by the main character of the show! Man, when isn't a good time to bring up the adventures of Jack Gallows and his wacky magazine staff?"

On that note, I think I'm done. Maybe I will write about how awesome the gym is and how I've only seen one person there less attractive than me. I'm pretty sure he was a vagrant who'd wandered in so people into that homeless chic scene would totally dig him more than me.

Oh wait, I do want to say this: "I hate being the guy the professor looks at expectantly when no one else speaks. I waited two weeks before I opened my mouth in my English class and now, all of a sudden, I'm a pivotal figure." Fortunately, there're a couple other people she looks at first.

Oh wait times two, I will add an assessment of my own lackluster performance:
They are: the guy who's an alcoholic.
They said: "So I worked at this job and like I didn't have a car so I could walk about like six blocks in any direction so I like always went to this bar and I had a bar stool I like liked to sit on. One time, this old man wanted to tell me I was like sitting in his spot, but the bar was too loud and I totally couldn't understand him. He finally stalked off, but returned later and totally threw a beer on me."
They fixed it! "Uh, I guess I should stay out of old guy's ways."
I countered: "Why don't you dry out, you filthy barsop?"
I remembered: I told it. I'd hope I'd remember it. Incidentally, it was even worse when I said it to the close. Dear Zeus: Why did you make me so pathetic, oh mighty and terrible Golden Lord of our Pantheon? It's me, Todd-o.

current mood: mag lite


Thursday, January 18th in the year 2007
6:48 pm - I'm a leading man and I'm also evil also into cats
YouTube video. I found it on the My Space of my secret crush a couple months ago and forgot about it until that song was playing in the Student Union while I drank my Starbucks Money Brand Mocha, which will have to suffice for my caffeine hit until I am once more in a locale with a more suitable coffee supplier. I love caffeine; it makes my heart skip and my hands shake. When I worked at Borders, I used to suck down as much caffeine as I felt I could realistically consume without contracting sleep apnea. Then I would stand in one place, my entire body vibrating in tune with the universe and my heart shuddering at the required exertion. Sometimes, I would open my mouth and emit a low, rumbling growl or I would start singing my then-favorite songs: The Avalanches' Frontier Psychiatrist or the Knife's You Make Me Like Charity. They're still kind of my favorite songs, but I didn't bring any of my cds with me for some reason. Oh, so I could learn!

I guess it's a Fall Out Boy thing that you can't understand the words. That's just a conclusion I came to after a quick look at YouTube so I could be totally misguided in the assumption.

More words later. I have homework.


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