Category: general

When I was about to graduate from UK, I was approached by the UK Student Development Council (I forget how, either someone talked to me or they sent me a letter) in the hopes that I would contribute to the class of 2002’s gift to the university. They wanted to get each and every last graduate’s money, to make it a unanimous gift.

At the time, I thought it was a great idea, and a nice gesture. I still do, but I think the timing was horribly horribly bad. Why hit people up who are about to graduate or who have already graduated? These people have no money :>

I certainly didn’t, anyway; so they wrote my name down and offered to bill me later. When I received the bill, I tucked it in a drawer and then carried it with me to Georgia when I moved. They sent another notice at some point last year.

I believe I finally did send them the $20, but I’m not positive.

At any rate, today I started wondering what exactly the gift was. It was going to be one of those markers you see all around campus (and throughout Kentucky, for that matter) denoting historical events. For example, the historical marker on Administration Drive that tells about Lyman T. Johnson suing for admission to the university was funded by the class of 1999. However, I didn’t know what historical fact our marker now presents to campus visitors, nor where it was placed.

Once I determined that they’re called “historical markers”, though, I hit the jackpot. The KY Historical Society actually has a Historical Marker Database. (Imagine that!) And so I discovered that our marker is at Memorial Hall on South Limestone (or “South Lime”, as we always called it). Here’s what it says on the marker:

Memorial Hall

Completed in 1929 as a memorial to Kentuckians who died in World War I. The building project was financed by statewide contributions. Rosters of the deceased are mounted on the interior walls. The building has become a symbol of the University of Kentucky. Class of 2002.

(Reverse) The interior contains a fresco, created by Ann Rice O’Hanlon in 1934 for the Public Works of Art Project, depicting historical events in central Kentucky. The Hall and its outdoor amphitheater continue to host many student gatherings, speeches, concerts, lectures, and memorial services. Class of 2002.

So, that’s pretty cool. Hopefully I actually sent them the $20.

Dammit.

One of them is crazy cool, and one of them is crazy huh?

First up, scientists are using living, cultured rat brain cells to run a flight simulator program. This is, in fact, crazy! Did science-fiction ever predict organic AI? (I suppose it isn’t really AI…it’s more like sticking instinct into a plane. But as the article states, the neurons learn as they go…if sustained, how much might they learn…?)

Secondly, we’ve got a self-identified “squatter” who broke into another woman’s house with a shovel, moved in a washer and dryer and her pet, and changed the electricity into her name. She was even wearing the owner’s clothing.

“There’s a lot of people saying, ‘What?'” [Chief Sheriff’s Deputy Stan] Copeland said.

Exactly.

Jes did it to her boyfriend in her most recent blog post, and then Kevin did it to himself over on the AMRN, so now I want to find some cool websites about me.

Unfortunately, “Heather Meadows” is a common name for subdivisions and apartment complexes, and, apparently, patches of wilderness:

It’s a view most people see only during this area’s painfully short summer season. On those days, you can drive your car all the way to Artist Point, a scenic viewpoint at the end of the Mount Baker Highway, 56 miles east of Bellingham and about three miles beyond the Mount Baker Ski Area. Those last three miles of road climb through a steep, magical mountain valley known as Heather Meadows.

I’m all about magical mountain valleys, don’t get me wrong. And apparently Heather Meadows is quite lovely, and there is a lot of interesting stuff to read about it, like the following:

The good news was that Heather Meadows hosted its first ski tournament in 1930. The bad news was that the lodge burned to the ground in 1931.

But I was kind of hoping to find a person named Heather Meadows.

In order to find people, I’m including other keywords, like “dead” or “obituary” or “news”. I’m not having a whole lot of luck, although I did discover that I’m apparently allergic to ragweed (just do a Find, since there are several articles on that page).

Oooh! I was on the Dean’s List at the University of Nebraska Omaha in fall 2003! (And apparently I’m from Ralston.)

I also apparently own cats, and live with/am married to(?) a guy named Tim, and have a thing for Alice in Wonderland. (Her/my name’s not anywhere on the site, but it is listed in this FAQ from a swing dance(?) mailing list. Powers of deduction, my friends…though that’s not really deduction, it’s just following links…) And I helped with the site construction of Login_Lore, according to somebody named Tapeworm. (With as few HMs as have shown up, it makes me wonder if this is the same person as miss Alice…)

Actually, now I’m seeing a lot of “Heather Meadows” references pointing to that Alice girl. I wonder if I should change my name…

Wait! I found a different one! She’s married to a guy named Mike, and she posts on some site called Zogby Blog, whose archives just froze my browser. Great!

I don’t really care about Cutie Honey, but the girl in this video, who I understand to be Koda Kumi, is so awesome. She has a website; the current picture doesn’t do her justice, and I can’t seem to find any good pictures elsewhere, either (though a couple decent ones can be found at Asia’s Finest). So, here are some horrible screencaps I took:

These pictures don’t do her justice, either. You really just have to see the video. (Ignore the skanky girl–who I’m afraid is also Koda Kumi >_<, though I'm not sure. In any case, she's skanky.)

Seriously, people have died in these typhoons. Lettuce must be very important to warrant its own article.

No, really, I do. I mean, I think it’s great that so many stupid people feel the need to blame Windows for their deficiencies.

Look, people. If Windows is so horrible, then why aren’t you using a different OS? And if you’re so smart, why can’t you figure out how to keep your Windows box stable and virus-free?

Really, this is just one example of a broader pet peeve of mine: people who lounge around on IRC bitching about things they could change or fix if they would just use their fucking brains. The most annoying thing about those people is what they say when you point this fact out.

“Meh…I’m too lazy.”

THEN SHUT THE FUCK UP, DICKWAD!

I just read an interesting opinion piece by a Japanese professor concerning the right to vote by non-Japanese permanent residents. Check it out. I think I already knew that you can’t hold multiple citizenships if you become a citizen of Japan, but that fact struck me as interesting in this new light. I know a guy who is both a citizen of the US and of Italy, and I always thought that was cool.

In any event, letting permanent residents vote in Japan would be a big step. “Foreigners” are marginalized quite a bit, though, so it would really just be the first step of many.

Blogger had some downtime that I somehow didn’t know about, so the true emotion behind this post has been lost. Still, I wanted to record the fact that I was, at one time, very eager to post this.

A pastor says he was “just kidding” when he told airport security he had a bomb, reached into his luggage and pulled out a Bible, declaring, “This is my bomb.”

Yes, my children. This is my bomb.

Dumbass!

He wanted a bit of company, so he bought a pair of bunnies. He ended up with more company than he could handle. Given the run of the house, the little furballs did what rabbits are known for.

In less than a year, the man, whose name the Louisiana SPCA withheld on grounds that he was embarrassed enough already, had 73 rabbits.

Cute and furry death incarnate! Dawn would be proud.

I went to Firehouse Subs today to get lunch for myself and two ladies at the office, Wanda and Audrey. Wanda had previously called the order in, so I paid for it and then stood around to wait. As the minutes ticked by, I inched closer to the front of the place and finally ended up sitting on a wooden bench.

A long time passed.

The busy restaurant quieted as the crowds thinned and dispersed. People came and picked up their orders and left. They still hadn’t called my name.

I was already confused, because I didn’t know if Wanda had called it in under her name or mine. I didn’t know if I had somehow missed them saying my name. I wondered what sort of priority my order had.

Finally I stood up and asked them.

The guy took my ticket and asked everyone behind the counter, until he got to the girl who’d taken my payment, down at the other end. “It’s right there!” she snapped in annoyance, as though it were perfectly obvious that my order would be sitting in a basket near the register, and that no one would have said anything to me about it. “She already paid for it,” the girl said in a milder voice.

“So why didn’t anyone call her?” the guy asked, sticking the receipt onto the bag and handing it to me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, embarrassed beyond belief. I didn’t wait to hear the rest of their conversation. I fled.

As soon as I was beyond the doors, I burst into tears. Plopping into my car, I cried and cried. The food had just sat there for almost half an hour. I hadn’t known where it would be. I should have figured it out, I thought, because of the signs. But no one called me. And that girl was so irritated. I was just a nuisance to her, an idiot customer with no idea what was going on.

Tears were rolling down my face as I headed back onto Washington Road. Without thinking about it too much, I turned into R. Gabriel’s parking lot. I think Mr. Beret–the bearded guy who’s always there, and who wears a beret and glasses, and whose name I unfortunately do not know–could tell I was crying. It was pretty freaking obvious. I got myself a nonfat blueberry banana smoothie, and I got a mocha frappe for Wanda. I managed to stop crying, but if I let myself think about what had happened at Firehouse Subs too much, I’d find my face screwing up and my eyes burning.

I wasn’t myself back at the office, where I handed out subs and munched mine quietly. I was friendly, but I felt out of place, and I really just wanted to run and hide. Even now, the most appealing place to me is under the covers. I want to go climb into bed at this very moment.

My head feels heavy and hazy and full of painful pressure. My eyes are dry, and I just want to go to sleep and pretend that lunch never happened.

Well…

I think I did fine in my interviews this morning.

So I’m optimistic.

I should know something by 5pm on Friday.

:)

No, I’m not referring to Columbus, you brilliant reader you. That’s how many calories I’ve had today! I think that’s coincidental enough to stop eating now, and not approach the freakish 2007 calorie limit DietPower gave me.

Seriously, I don’t know why it keeps giving me so many calories, but whenever I eat anywhere near 2000, I gain weight. It probably doesn’t help that I’m eating fatty foods rather than healthy ones, though…bleh. Changing my eating habits is teh h4rd…

I’ve got that job interview tomorrow. I’m taking a bazillion copies of my resume to hand out, plus my laptop with some stuff on it that will hopefully make me look cool. (I don’t know what that stuff will be yet; working on it now ;P) Anyway, wish me luck.

Due to eating at Shangri-La (Chinese buffet) for lunch, then having two pieces of cake, and then eating some Krystal’s for dinner yesterday, I gained back two pounds.

;P

Last night, BoingBoing linked to a cool website about rejected ads. Some of these are great! I especially like this one :> Plot, eh?

(Balance of the Force would have been such a better name…)

This one has me seriously rolling. Dear lord.

So I started being bitchy the other night, and I seem to keep dipping into the pot of bitchiness. I don’t know if I’m stressed about my job interview or if it’s the hormones. :P