So, I have a job interview today! That fact presented the wonderful opportunity for me to realize my cache of clothes suitable for interviews is pretty small. Always a positive.
I'm still reeling from my tremendous loss at "Dream-Phone" a few nights ago. I was positive -- certain! -- that my secret admirer was Matt; it was Alan. Once I heard the horrendously digitized voice lovingly bellow, "You're right! I really like you!" into the ear of one of my friends, my 10-year-old-circa-1988-female heart was shattered.
Shattered!
Alan, that was the biggest mistake you'll ever make.
I've been trying to push myself into drawing more, but I haven't really found any appreciable amount of time.
My Japanese final is tomorrow at 3:30. After that, I can bid this school year adieu. Thank f-ing god.
I'm still reeling from my tremendous loss at "Dream-Phone" a few nights ago. I was positive -- certain! -- that my secret admirer was Matt; it was Alan. Once I heard the horrendously digitized voice lovingly bellow, "You're right! I really like you!" into the ear of one of my friends, my 10-year-old-circa-1988-female heart was shattered.
Shattered!
Alan, that was the biggest mistake you'll ever make.
I've been trying to push myself into drawing more, but I haven't really found any appreciable amount of time.
My Japanese final is tomorrow at 3:30. After that, I can bid this school year adieu. Thank f-ing god.
Every once in a while I'm filled with a surge of prosocial energy that makes me want to do anything that will benefit my fellow man.
I have no idea, really, whether it's the product of serendipity or a robotic hive-mind, but there's this weird fascination with yeti among my friends that defies explanation. So, in an attempt to introduce the world-at-large to the world's cuddliest cryptozoological curiosity, I drew "The Last Yeti Supper".
Preview:
I don't really have the technology to take a picture of the entire thing, and tiling the thing together kind of ruins the holistic magic inherent to this sketch*. So, until I get access to a decent scanner, I'll just leave this thing up.
In other news, the Sabres never fail to bring a smile to my face. Sadly, if all games are like Game 1, my heart will not survive the series.
-E
*This warrants explanation. Basically, I have this theory: Eiron's Theory of Relative Yeti Awesomeness. Basically, it states that every yeti (x) within a given area (y) has an inherent awesomeness (A) equal to:
A = (x^x)/(y^-x)
So what this means is... um... Shit, I don't know; I should've taken Advanced Sasquatchstics in school.
I have no idea, really, whether it's the product of serendipity or a robotic hive-mind, but there's this weird fascination with yeti among my friends that defies explanation. So, in an attempt to introduce the world-at-large to the world's cuddliest cryptozoological curiosity, I drew "The Last Yeti Supper".
Preview:
I don't really have the technology to take a picture of the entire thing, and tiling the thing together kind of ruins the holistic magic inherent to this sketch*. So, until I get access to a decent scanner, I'll just leave this thing up.
In other news, the Sabres never fail to bring a smile to my face. Sadly, if all games are like Game 1, my heart will not survive the series.
-E
*This warrants explanation. Basically, I have this theory: Eiron's Theory of Relative Yeti Awesomeness. Basically, it states that every yeti (x) within a given area (y) has an inherent awesomeness (A) equal to:
A = (x^x)/(y^-x)
So what this means is... um... Shit, I don't know; I should've taken Advanced Sasquatchstics in school.
So,
After roughly nine months of agonizing indecision and torturous introspection, I finally decided to sign-up for this site. It was mostly a point of indifference, but Odyne wanted -- dare I say, needed? -- my presence.
What's there to say in this inaugural blog-thing?
I'm almost done with James Joyce's Ulysses, which is a book I've for the most part enjoyed. I was a little intimidated by the whole stream-of-consciousness style he adopts at many points along the way; years of reading the meandering, go-nowhere Livejournal entries of the disinfranchised youth of today prepared me in ways I could've hardly anticipated, though.
Joyce leads me through turn-of-the-century Dublin. Livejournal leads me through turn-of-the-century Scenesterville.
Joyce describes Leopold Bloom's masturbation in poetic detail. Livejournal provides masturbatory communities of needlessly detailed poetry.
Truly the greats of yesterday are alive today.
Or something.
I've been on the job-hunt for a few weeks now, as income for at least the summer's duration is a must. Taking research assistantships in lieu of a paying job really sodomized my wallet, and while it is regularly swathed in leather, the wallet is just not into that sort of stuff.
Sadly.
I think that's all I've got.
After roughly nine months of agonizing indecision and torturous introspection, I finally decided to sign-up for this site. It was mostly a point of indifference, but Odyne wanted -- dare I say, needed? -- my presence.
What's there to say in this inaugural blog-thing?
I'm almost done with James Joyce's Ulysses, which is a book I've for the most part enjoyed. I was a little intimidated by the whole stream-of-consciousness style he adopts at many points along the way; years of reading the meandering, go-nowhere Livejournal entries of the disinfranchised youth of today prepared me in ways I could've hardly anticipated, though.
Joyce leads me through turn-of-the-century Dublin. Livejournal leads me through turn-of-the-century Scenesterville.
Joyce describes Leopold Bloom's masturbation in poetic detail. Livejournal provides masturbatory communities of needlessly detailed poetry.
Truly the greats of yesterday are alive today.
Or something.
I've been on the job-hunt for a few weeks now, as income for at least the summer's duration is a must. Taking research assistantships in lieu of a paying job really sodomized my wallet, and while it is regularly swathed in leather, the wallet is just not into that sort of stuff.
Sadly.
I think that's all I've got.
