tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59303442011-12-14T18:43:43.958-08:00hereticalphysicistThe story of how I became a very, very bad physicist. But not really.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comBlogger851100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1147220602613946222006-05-09T17:15:00.000-07:002006-05-09T17:23:22.626-07:00Photo OpDear President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, can I have the name of your photographer for my upcoming family reunion?Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1146018890539148092006-04-25T19:05:00.000-07:002006-04-25T19:34:50.550-07:00The Glamorous Side of Being a LibrarianDon Hertzfeldt comes in to check out sound effects CDs.Anyone heard of T.C. Boyle, by the way? Because sometimes he comes out of hiding to borrow a book. Maybe one of his own.That is all.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1144272921388617772006-04-05T14:13:00.000-07:002006-04-05T14:40:12.366-07:00"I'm sorry Mrs. Smith...Fluffy has bookworms!"I'm not going to kid myself that anyone is actually reading this anymore. Updating this is essentially equivalent to skipping rope over the corpse of your childhood pet. Still, there's a voice in my head whispering, "If you blog it, they will come...."Yikes, not with jokes like that. But anyway, I've got a good excuse for my absence. I got a Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1131171692248041882005-11-04T21:39:00.000-08:002005-11-04T22:40:07.066-08:00Loco en la BibliotecaI've learned something important these past two months. If you have more money, you don't need a free account on Blogger to get people to like you.Some time ago, I believe I briefly mentioned a short-lived foray I made into the head-hunting market. In short, I was looking for a second job. My half-hearted attempts, however, proved fruitless until late September, when I Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1125468768365472362005-08-30T22:40:00.000-07:002005-08-30T23:14:26.286-07:00The JerkLast night, I was listening to Loveline on the way home from the James Joyce bar, which is the only place in Santa Barbara pretentious enough for these New Yorkers. Adam Corolla was bitching about "the nasty" that forms on flip flops after about 6 months. For most people, I suppose, this isn't a problem because the flip flop season is not more than 6 months anyway. In California, where Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1124251246054492022005-08-16T20:39:00.000-07:002005-08-16T22:50:32.130-07:00The Suck of the IrishWhat would you do if hundreds of Irish people suddenly moved into your town? That's what New Yorkers were asking themselves in 1847 when waves of Irish immigrants flooded the New York harbor after a potato famine struck--Oops, wrong century, wrong New Yorkers. Let's try this again: That's what New Yorkers-who-moved-to-California-last-year were asking themselves in 2005 whenEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1123056065910228062005-08-03T00:57:00.000-07:002005-08-03T01:01:05.916-07:00Coming AttractionsMan, that last one was a real crap post. Am I right?Coming Soon...The Suck of the Irish!Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1121828418832843612005-07-19T19:49:00.000-07:002005-07-19T20:00:18.836-07:00Headline: Beck Gives Birth to Radioactive Cat and Is a Scientologist!Guess which part of the headline is true.Nope, guess again.C'mon, be a risk-taker.Sticking with your first answer? Okay, the true part is--settle down, let me finish--he's a Scientologist. I guess this is probably common knowledge, but I usually come into the loop on these things kind of late. Like when Brad Pitt was recentlyEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1121322970501546982005-07-13T23:35:00.000-07:002005-07-13T23:36:10.506-07:00My Funny ValentineI don't know why I love you but I do...Alan Alda.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1119065177333744032005-06-17T20:07:00.000-07:002005-06-17T20:26:17.340-07:00Re: JoyceI picked up A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man at the library and just started reading it. I needn't have worried about not understanding it, because every other person who has checked out the book before me has underlined the important passages for me and included helpful comments. I've identified three different Joyce fans by their handwriting who have deigned to guide my way Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1118705722438601202005-06-13T16:33:00.000-07:002005-06-13T16:35:22.443-07:00Oh man, oh man, oh man, I hope I'm the first blogger to say thisIf the sparkly glove don't fit, you must acquit.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1118253644217072472005-06-08T10:08:00.000-07:002005-06-08T12:10:21.913-07:00Suck my Caw! Caw!Another sleepless night has driven me to mania, and I have waking dreams of driving to Wal-Mart in Oxnard to buy a BB gun. I don't know if there is a Wal-Mart in Oxnard, but I claim poetic license and say there is, for the birth of my vengeance will be in Oxnard. I will drive home along the golden coast and form a redoubt from the covers on my bed. I will poke a hole in the Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1117962092591251822005-06-05T01:44:00.000-07:002005-06-05T02:04:45.223-07:00School DazeToday I went into the Six Pack Shop to buy beer. At the counter was a crazy townie, raving about the high cost of tuition and you wouldn't believe how much cheaper school was in his day. The clerk was nodding politely. When I brought my beer to the counter, the clerk waited a minute to see if the townie would go away on his own. When he didn't and remained in front of the counter Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1117612232916416142005-05-31T23:54:00.000-07:002005-06-01T00:50:33.836-07:00Blame NewsweekI had a dream, referred to by Mike, that I walked into a women's bathroom. One wall was lined with sinks and a long mirror, the other was lined with stalls, and the whole bathroom had pink tiles. I went into one of the stalls to do my business. I was in there for a while before some woman kicked down the bathroom door and started screaming at me in Arabic. When she saw my Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1116144168782270092005-05-15T00:53:00.000-07:002005-05-15T02:14:26.663-07:00I am a Total Asshole and Other StoriesA conversation between Mike and I tonight, while watching a Star Wars commercial:Me: [Trying to find something good to say about the movie.] At least they made Anakin Skywalker's hair in a seventies style so he kind of looks like the father of George Hamilton.Mike: George Hamilton?Me: Yeah.Mike: Luke Skywalker?Me: U-u-u-uh. [I leer.]Mike: You mean Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1114917503160728782005-04-30T20:00:00.000-07:002005-05-01T23:40:13.176-07:00Mighty TestiklesI was recently at Columbia and had a chance once again to rest my eyes on a pair of proud testicles that I had become very familiar with in spring of 2004. During that semester, Columbia erected a statue of a lion outside of the gym and near the physics building. For a week or so just the pedestal stood there, and I wondered if it was a tomb of a noted Columbia personality. Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1113953398625983552005-04-19T14:24:00.001-07:002005-04-19T23:13:48.986-07:00Doctor Mike's Miracle Hysteria TreatmentI have recently finished reading G.F. Stout's Groundwork of Psychology, which was published in 1903. According to a stamp in the back of the book, it was still on the Columbia bookshelves as late as April 22, 1950. To be honest, the only reason I read it was to get a kick out of any references to female hysteria and/or the ether. I was disappointed in Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1113551827778393332005-04-15T00:40:00.000-07:002005-04-15T00:57:07.780-07:00See Emily SinkConfession: I still have to take Columbia's swim test. I've said before that I kind of zoned out senior year, and of course I put it off until then. I actually had decided to do it on the last day available, but the day came, and I forgot.Explanation: Columbia requires a swim test for graduation. Three laps, any way you like it, and I'm a great big dork. Reaction: I told a Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1113008476410917652005-04-08T17:42:00.000-07:002005-04-08T18:05:42.566-07:00PA'dWhen I was in third grade, I went to Jordan Acres Elementary SChool (sounds like a kiddie farm) in southern Maine. The school had a new age-y philosophy, and instead of classes, we learned in pods. The school didn't have any walls--this was its main selling point--but the classes were divided by, uh, dividers. All the classrooms, er, pod spaces were situated around a central library. Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1112309055691731982005-03-31T13:40:00.000-08:002005-03-31T17:02:44.683-08:00Eat, Drink, and Be MerrySo Terry Schiavo is dead, just in time, I guess, for the protestors to dash to the Vatican with their recycled signs saying, "Remove the Tube." That was insensitive. Anyone who knows me probably knows where I stand on the issue. By law, her husband had the right to make the decision, and his decision had to be upheld, no matter how tragic it seemed. The government Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1112061294305238592005-03-28T17:39:00.000-08:002005-03-28T17:59:12.236-08:00Pretty Jenny, Pretty, Pretty JennyI believe it was for her 16th birthday party that my good friend April, of "fish shirt" fame (oh, man, she will never find out about this blog), held a slumber party with about 5 of her friends. I was there, and my friend Al, a strange girl named Jenny (perhaps you have received fallatio from her before), and some other forgettable types. The party was pretty Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1111479666217532092005-03-24T00:15:00.000-08:002005-03-23T23:08:58.900-08:00'RentsI'm away at my parents' house this week, which doesn't really excuse my laziness for the better part of this month. I flew in last night, forced to take the red eye sitting behind a fat kid passing gas and his snoring father. I sat next to a nice woman, and during particularly bad turbulence, she passed me some gum. Feeling like I should say somehing other than, "Gee, thanks," I held up theEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1110071598439443422005-03-05T17:00:00.000-08:002005-03-08T17:31:53.816-08:00Cow Bella[Man, this post was a real bug in my ass. I've never had such a severe case of writer's block in my life. This one goes out to Mary Jane.]The cowbell enrages me. The dull thonk of a stick upon one of the dumb, impassive faces of that ignoble pyramidal frustum (thanks, Wolfram) haunts me, interferes between me and the music I love. Can I blame Blue Oyster Cult for this? Yes.Blue OysterEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1109719514358231652005-03-01T14:49:00.000-08:002005-03-03T18:10:36.990-08:00The ConcertOooh, damn. The last time I posted was 11 days ago, and before that, a week. What's up with me? Not writer's block--I've got whole posts written in my head. Extreme lethargy. EXTREME LETHARGY!!!My last post was kind of offensive, and I don't like to leave those kind of posts the very first thing you see on the page for long. In case you haven't noticed, I usually like to quickly followEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1108778962468220522005-02-18T17:06:00.000-08:002005-02-18T19:32:29.320-08:00Fatty, fatty, two-by-four...Today, I saw an article about a casino that was under fire for putting weight restrictions on its employees. This applied to the cocktail waitresses and waiters--if they exceed 7 percent of their body weight they will have an up to 90-day unpaid suspension during which they must lose the weight. Women's right advocates are up in arms about this, claiming that it forcesEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1107943515224856552005-02-09T01:43:00.000-08:002005-03-08T16:41:28.110-08:00Emotionally StuntedWhen I'm confronted with the news of the death of someone I know or someone close to me knows, my first reaction is a little breathy laugh. This sounds insensitive and it is. I try to restrain my first impulse around others who won't understand it and will be offended or hurt. There are several reasons why I might have a little laugh.Perhaps it's actually a small sob or sigh, Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1107856975196828862005-02-08T01:43:00.000-08:002005-02-08T02:02:55.196-08:00Nice Dream
Mike sometimes tells me that I would make a Freudian's day. I think this is an exaggeration of my deviance, but, still, thinking about sex, among other topics not suitable for breakfast nook banter, occupies a good portion of my day and night. I regularly have sex dreams, and I never know who's going to make a cameo. Here are a few good ones:
Richard Lewis: In my dream, he was Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1107412729121214162005-02-02T22:38:00.000-08:002005-02-02T23:14:33.370-08:00Doomsday
Fox has a new TV show called Point Pleasant. This is not an endorsement of the show--you can watch it, or not. The basic premise of Point Pleasant is that the final battle between good and evil will take place in Point Pleasant, NJ. Now, New Jersey might seem like a hellish no man's land strewn with the foul and viscous innards of demons and sinners, but the fact is, the final battle Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1107059159067420272005-01-29T20:11:00.000-08:002005-01-29T20:25:59.066-08:00The Overcoat
Like most people, I had a tough time in middle school. I was portly, wore glasses and pigtails, whiny, and poor. Because my family was so poor, I was pretty excited to get a new jacket that wasn't even a winter coat or anything! I thought it was just so cool: denim, with one sleeve a red plaid pattern and the other a yellow plaid pattern. This was the early 90s, so I realize nowEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1106712650470368492005-01-25T20:09:00.000-08:002005-01-25T20:38:32.576-08:00Images of America
I guess since I just recently read "America" by Allen Ginsberg, I'm kind of on an America kick. I'll go with it.
I didn't spend much time talking about the road trip across country that Mike and I took to get out here, but believe me, it was beautiful. Here are a few recollections.
In Morgantown, WV, we stopped at McDonald's. As we were driving into the parking lot, I saw Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1106559939070336852005-01-24T01:40:00.000-08:002005-01-24T01:45:39.070-08:00America Confesses...
Confession of the 1970s: We have really bad taste.
Confession of the '80s: I love money. Omigod, you love money too?
Confession of the '90s: We love cookie dough!
Confession of the '00s? Don't know what schadenfreude means, and proud of it!
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1106533628610234552005-01-23T18:14:00.000-08:002005-01-23T18:27:54.580-08:00Pictures of Me
Somewhere, in middle America, a Bush supporter has my picture.
In 2000, a bunch of Columbia students were going to D.C. to protest the inauguration, as I'm sure many did this year. I thought it was a little silly, because what was going to happen? They're going to cancel the presidency? Although, protesters in 2000 had a lot more reason to protest than those now, because Bush wonEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1106305173041308632005-01-21T02:49:00.000-08:002005-01-21T02:59:33.040-08:00Lazy Day Word Play
By the way, the haiku was not about marijuana, as Mike thought. I was putting away some sage I'd dried. And was filled with poetic spirit, or something.
Mike's Dad came to visit about a week ago. His impression was that we're living in squalor, which is definitely not true. Our apartment is richly and tastefully decorated, and we drink a lot of wine. Our lifestyle is Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1106280284266875302005-01-20T20:01:00.000-08:002005-01-20T20:04:44.266-08:00Haiku
My fingertips are
scented by the crackling
dry herbs beneath them.
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1106203344550853792005-01-19T22:30:00.000-08:002005-01-19T22:42:24.550-08:00Animaniacs
Mike and I went to the beach today to fly a kite. The air was supernaturally still, though, so I just amused myself by chasing the gulls on the pier with my kite, which looks like a dragon. I saw a gull standing on one leg. I ran up to it, growling and sneering behind my dragon kite, and in its haste to get away, it fell into the water.
Just kidding. I didn't chase it, but I did Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1105928815563492722005-01-16T18:20:00.000-08:002005-01-16T18:26:55.563-08:00All right, closure!
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about a couple of kids that bang on my window everyday. They had stopped for a while--Christmas break, and I'm sure with all the rain they took a more direct route home than behind my apartment.
Last week, however, things came to a head. I was standing at the window, showing Mike a little bit of mold growing on it (eeewww!), when I saw a kidEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1105785731737526342005-01-15T02:25:00.000-08:002005-01-15T03:24:07.316-08:00PERSONALS
In search of Tim Connor who lived in Goleta from 1987 to 1990. He possibly grew up in Santa Barbara. He is approx. 40 years old, 6 feet tall with brown hair. He dated Holly Mansfield in 1988. I have good news and would like to contact him. Reward. Contact me at (619) 337-8981.
WANTED
In search of white pages phone books for the Goleta/Isla Vista area from 1987 to 1990. Will purchase Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1105695704653346792005-01-14T01:39:00.000-08:002005-01-14T01:41:44.653-08:00Syzygy
The alignment of the moon, earth and sun.
Good-night, all.
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1105584447112672922005-01-12T18:43:00.000-08:002005-01-12T18:47:27.113-08:00Selling Out
Today I didn't get a job. I had applied for a job as a wine hostess at a winery. Now, I don't really need a job, because I already have one, but since I work at home, I thought it wouldn't hurt to try an get a little extra cash to support my hedonistic lifestyle. And I really did want to work there, for real. I had visions of calling up Mike at 7 in the evening, asking him to Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1105253691767674762005-01-08T22:41:00.000-08:002005-01-12T18:30:42.500-08:00Rainy Day Women #12 & 35
I was watching Pulp Fiction tonight. Mike told me that it has been speculated that the boss's soul is in the suitcase that Samuel L. Jackson is delivering. I've never actually read anything about the movie. I don't really care what film students think about it. But anyway, I was intrigued. I speculated, Does that make Samuel L. Jackson the Angel of Death? Of course, he Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1105048572930217612005-01-06T13:55:00.000-08:002005-01-06T13:56:12.930-08:00Movin' on Up
I just want to direct everyone's attention to the second comment on my post entitled "Wet and Wild."
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1104976001934651812005-01-05T17:23:00.000-08:002005-01-05T17:46:41.933-08:00Book Review for a Boring Day
I'm reading The Hotel New Hampshire by John Irving right now. One annoying thing about Irving is that if you read about two of his good books, you don't have to read many more. He just recycles his themes: bears, circuses, deviant sexuality, dominant females, dwarfs. (One survey of his themes would lead one to be slightly suspicious of John Irving's own sexuality.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1104901954063295312005-01-04T20:51:00.000-08:002005-01-04T21:12:34.063-08:00Wet and Wild
I have problems with my plumbing.
A couple of months ago, I stuck a grapefruit peel down the garbage disposal. I've never had one before (a disposal, not a grapefruit), so how was I supposed to know it wouldn't work? When I flipped it on, grapefruit guts splashed all over the kitchen walls, and after that, both sides of the sink filled up with water the color of puke. Like if Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1104557958505939232004-12-31T21:36:00.000-08:002004-12-31T21:39:18.506-08:00Happy New Year
Looks like New York City's ball just descended. He he.
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1104379065451540352004-12-29T18:28:00.000-08:002004-12-30T22:24:29.503-08:00Imagine You Had Some Talent
(This was written with a lot of input from Mike, so he gets some credit.)
Sorry for the long delay in posting. Mike's computer crashed last week, and it took about 5 days to get it back up again. Even though it's been reformatted about 3 times, it still freezes everytime you do something, like move the mouse.
But I don't want to bitch about this computer. I want toEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1103790211750067622004-12-23T01:14:00.000-08:002004-12-23T00:23:31.750-08:00The Egoist
Last Saturday night, Mike and I went out for drinks at a bar that was pretty empty for a Saturday night. A few patrons were huddled around the bar, and no one was on the dancefloor. That changed when a group of three men entered the bar. One of them held a video camera, the other held a digital camera, and the third headed out to the dance floor where he started break-dancing--Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1103423294325002422004-12-18T18:13:00.000-08:002004-12-18T18:28:14.326-08:00My Crusade
Every day, between 3 and 4 pm, a group of kids race down the alley behind my apartment. When they reach my apartment, one of them takes a running leap and bangs on my bedroom window. This has been happening since we moved in. I race to the window after it happens, but the kids are always gone by the time I get there. I've listened, and they only bang my window--why are they singling Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1103073569581650582004-12-14T17:00:00.000-08:002004-12-14T19:47:06.616-08:00Check Into Cash
Scene 1: A woman stands at a grocery checkout. When faced with the bill, she says out loud, despairingly, "Oh, no, my paycheck won't cover this! How am I going to get money to pay for it?" A man standing behind her in line says, "Try Check Into Cash. They can give you an advance on your next paycheck up to $500." A woman standing behind him overhears and adds, "It's the best way Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1102756630926578032004-12-11T01:01:00.000-08:002004-12-11T01:17:10.926-08:00Love Buzz
Mike recently bought himself the Nirvana box set, to my delight. Boy, it takes me back. I feel like 13 all over again. It came with a DVD of sessions, starting back in 1987. While a part of my brain is set against foolish, romantic, teenage notions, my heart still breaks a little when I see Kurt.
I was 13 when Nirvana was introduced to me. Ronnie had come to visit his grandmotherEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1102680352043967612004-12-10T03:46:00.000-08:002004-12-10T13:17:49.513-08:00Orientalism, again
I was having a discussion with Mike earlier tonight about new Palestinian leader Mahmoud Abbas, and how he will probably have a positive influence on events in that region, provided that he isn't killed first. While it's unlikely that he'll be assassinated, the very fact that Mike mentioned it prompted me to observe that politics in the Middle East just seemed so..."Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1102385326449042782004-12-06T17:42:00.000-08:002004-12-06T18:13:04.853-08:00Confession
Some people might be surprised by (or indifferent to) the fact that I'm a Republican. I don't think it's so surprising, really, although any negative effects being a Republican has on my character obviously aren't too pronounced. I find that being a hard-core pragmatist places my ideology a little right of the center, but still pretty close. Because being socially liberal seems like Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1101947986414891832004-12-01T16:36:00.000-08:002004-12-01T16:39:46.413-08:00Nothing much new, except that Hello Nurse is my new favorite band ever.
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1101553260506523712004-11-27T02:55:00.001-08:002004-11-27T03:01:00.506-08:00Mike took me to see the Incredibles tonight. I'm really enthusiastic about Pixar. I used to be a little wary of them, what with the Disney connection, and their movies are mostly for kids. But one Christmas, my stepniece Haley wanted to watch Monsters Inc. over and over and over again, and I liked it a lot. So I've pretty much seen every other Pixar film and been satisfied. I might skip the Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1101340357069760522004-11-24T15:45:00.000-08:002004-11-24T17:07:43.950-08:00Bono Hump
Mike's been raving about some thing you download (you can get it here) and you can zoom in anywhere on the planet to such a point that sometimes you can see your house (it's not available for everywhere on the planet). This is the trial mode, and the words TRIAL MODE are stamped across the viewing window. You can zoom out all the way to space, and when you do that, the words TRIAL MODEEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1100813652357789272004-11-18T13:57:00.000-08:002004-11-18T13:34:12.356-08:00Thoughts and Feelings
So I've had this blog about a year, and this is my 20th post. That means I've only blogged once or twice a month on average. Bad blogger! Most of those posts have been recent. Like I have said before, I want to be a writer so badly, and even though this might not be the best writing I've ever done, I can actually write well sometimes. But recently I just feel like I Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1100000796378611292004-11-09T03:29:00.000-08:002004-11-09T03:48:01.046-08:00Bad Books
So I finished "Globalization and Its Discontents" and I'm the better for it. Next up with Walt Whitman's collected works. I realize that reading an entire book of poetry cover to cover sounds like it defeats the point of poetry, but I'm going slow, and once I get tired of reading, I stop. Keeping it fresh. Keeping it real.
I never much liked Walt Whitman before, but now that I've readEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1099793412588198402004-11-06T17:42:00.000-08:002004-11-06T18:10:30.026-08:00I amost got dive-bombed by a hummingbird today. I see them everywhere here. The leaves are starting to change but I still see a lot of flowering plants. This little one was sitting on the tip of a branch. Its feet were so small I couldn't see them. So I was watching it, and it flew to another branch, and then it just looked at me, and darted straight to my head. Luckily, it passed just closely Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1099601614078373482004-11-04T13:40:00.000-08:002004-11-04T12:53:34.076-08:00Procrastination
I'm supposed to be working. I'd rather be reading. I finished Lenin over a week ago, and I can't believe I did it. It was an intimidating book. A solid 360 pages, all revolutionary rhetoric. When I finished it, I felt like I did when I finished my quantum class. I realize now the true extent of my project, that is, to read all the books I own that I haven't read yet, most Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1099569835228019862004-11-04T04:01:00.000-08:002004-11-04T04:03:55.226-08:00Mustard Pic
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1099553041264542532004-11-03T23:05:00.000-08:002004-11-04T04:09:23.046-08:00Rage. While I tell Mike not to be so fatalistic about this election, I'm pretty concerned myself. When I think about it, all these issues rush into my head: stem cell research, abortion, health care. I know that America will eventually come out all right, but in the meantime, I want to move to Amsterdam.
What I'm most angry about is that only 17% of people 18-29 voted, same as last time. What Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1098672883695546012004-10-24T19:41:00.000-07:002004-10-24T19:54:43.696-07:00Moniker
I've been thinking about changing this blog's name. I mean, "heretical physicist" sounds really cool, but it's kind of pretentious. I'd like to be "parity violator" instead, because that also sounds really cool, but it seems a little too dramatic. Would it be too dramatic or pretentious to appeal to my readers for some input?
I would like to think that somebody reads this regularly Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1098529775226791862004-10-23T03:53:00.000-07:002004-10-23T04:09:35.226-07:00Talkie
I come from the South originally, but one year I moved to Maine. I was in 3rd grade then, so I guess it really was that my parents moved to Maine. At school, I was called out of class to have a session with the school speech counselor--the lady who worked with all the kids with speech impediments. I wasn't aware that I had a speech impediment, but she kept working me, telling me how toEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1098398514205557132004-10-21T15:07:00.000-07:002004-10-21T19:02:06.776-07:00A Serious Disorder
There's a disorder ravaging the good characters of young women all over the world. It's called Tortured Female Syndrome (TFS), and it manifests itself early in puberty, typically when a girl buys her first Tori Amos album. The disorder can last into a girl's twenties. Symptoms include long, introspective journal or blog entries, the airing of one's dirty laundry with the Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1097973204632766102004-10-16T17:17:00.000-07:002004-10-16T17:36:19.140-07:00Dreaming
I had a dream last night that there was a blizzard, but school wasn't cancelled. I didn't go anyway; I went to my friend Al's house. We both got so sick--and we knew it too because we went to K-mart and used a thermometer there. Her temperature was 102 degrees. I looked on the thermometer, and all I could see was that the mercury went above 96, and there were slashes on the thermometer Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1097487621280192962004-10-11T02:25:00.000-07:002004-10-11T02:40:21.280-07:00I have about 500 books, maybe more. I brought them all to California with me, and it's the first time in years that I've had my whole collection around me. It's wonderful. All through school I dreamed of one day being able to sit in a chair for 5 hours and read. To read all day. Since I got here, I have been, and it's all I expected it to be.
I've only read about 70% of my books. Maybe Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1097208668171217142004-10-07T20:53:00.000-07:002004-10-07T21:12:56.623-07:00Blogging is a lot like masturbating...when you get the urge, you've got to do it right then and there.
I've got to blow the dust off my blog. I can't commit. But I have been busy otherwise: went to Israel and then drove across country to California. Now that things have settled a little, perhaps I'll update this more. But probably not.
California's treating me well. I don't have much to say Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1092296068304818302004-08-12T00:30:00.000-07:002004-08-12T00:34:28.303-07:00I updated my website today. It's still kind of dusty and shitty, but not embarrassingly so.
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1091593238152531112004-08-03T21:12:00.000-07:002004-08-03T21:20:38.153-07:00Has this ever happened to you? You're sitting on the couch with your boyfriend, watching the TV. Or not so much watching. Then a Midol commercial comes on, kills the mood. You can't ignore it. Just the slightest hint of menstruation can permeate the atmosphere like a 3rd grader's SBD. Damn.
So this is how I ended up watching a Midol commercial. Three women at the beach, bitching about Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1091495626662946502004-08-02T17:22:00.000-07:002004-08-02T18:13:46.663-07:00No Intent
I always make promises because I feel like I should be more accountable, and then I never fulfill those promises. Like when I said last week, "Yeah, I should have my work in my Thursday or Friday." And right now I'm procrastinating by blogging. Yep, the only time I blog is to avoid work. Late work.
I'm discussing with a friend The Triplets of Bellevue. To be fair, it was a cleverEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1086866639346887082004-06-10T04:00:00.000-07:002004-06-10T05:04:47.686-07:00Letter of Intent
This blog has become a blemish on my conscience. I suffer from the common affliction of not being able to finish what I start. Up to now, the list of unfinished business includes hooked rugs, novels, short stories, manifestos, relationships (the neverending "break"), and college. I don't plan on finishing those rugs until maybe I'm pregnant and too bloated to do anything elseEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1085787305772823042004-05-28T16:34:00.000-07:002004-05-28T16:35:05.773-07:00Message to Mike
Don't let the bastards get you down.
Since you admitted your cellphone was low on batteries, I can imagine that there's some good person out there tortured by the fact that the batteries died while they were scrolling through your phone list, trying to decide who to call to find out how to return your cellphone. Someone who, that day, pressed the power button every four hours, Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1084108827021778902004-05-09T06:20:00.000-07:002004-05-09T06:24:57.750-07:00What's my schtick?Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1083800906561503932004-05-05T16:48:00.000-07:002004-05-05T16:52:52.123-07:00EEEK!
A website I frequent is run by a guy who's been out of work for about a year and a half, so he keeps a website with content that changes everday. There's Wednesday screwups, where people submit stories of embarrassing things they did, Friday Boss from Hell Stories, etc. He also does some cool Flash stuff, which he just sold to Comedy Central and they're making a cartoon based on his Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1083593558118033772004-05-03T07:12:00.000-07:002004-05-03T07:19:39.403-07:00More blah blah blah? Not today. Today something really important. Today I'm really angry. Today I've got something I really want to say: PLEASE GIVE ME GMAIL PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, give it to me too! I, who has been googling since before googling was a word! I, who has spread the word among my friends and loved ones, so that they too became Googlers. Oh, Google, I know I have failed Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1076903862290012942004-02-15T19:57:00.000-08:002004-02-15T20:00:17.936-08:00Goon
I am such a goon, because I'm about to talk about the song that pulled me out of my depression and made me a better blogger. I was hooked when the song began, but the lyrics really hit the reality home: "Where have all sensations gone?" I am such a goon that a rock lyric can change my life, but it happens to everyone else, they just don't admit it. I am a public goon.
Oh, and what is Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1076575907279770142004-02-12T00:51:00.000-08:002004-02-12T00:54:18.513-08:00Sweet
you know loads about inuyasha A+ for you
!!!!!!!!!~inuyasha True or False quiz~!!!!!!!!! brought to you by Quizilla
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1076568392705714872004-02-11T22:46:00.000-08:002004-02-11T22:49:03.123-08:00Data
Mike referred me to a candidate selector, so I could find my ideal candidate. Here are the results:
1. Your ideal theoretical candidate. (100%)
2. Socialist Candidate (81%)
3. Dean, Gov. Howard, VT - Democrat (81%)
4. Sharpton, Reverend Al - Democrat (72%)
5. Kucinich, Rep. Dennis, OH - Democrat (61%)
6. Kerry, Senator John, MA - Democrat (53%)
7. Edwards, Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1076464369111290362004-02-10T17:52:00.000-08:002004-02-10T17:56:03.996-08:00Why not?
Love. You Truly Desire Love. You long for someoneto hold you and take the pain away. You haven'tbeen in much relationships or you need to workon how to handle them. You always seem lost ina daydream about the person you care aboutmost.
What Do You Truly Desire? *PICS* brought to you by Quizilla
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1076464040781805362004-02-10T17:47:00.000-08:002004-02-10T17:49:49.653-08:00Blah, Blah, Blah,
Why can't I just write like a human? Like myself? I want to get paid someday for not writing like myself, because I don't think I'm a very good writer, and I want to be one, so I can't write like myself. But when I do that, I end up sounding like such a prick. I think I'm likeable in real life, why can't I be so on realinet?
I've been reading lots of different blogs. Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1075867492207512002004-02-03T20:04:00.000-08:002004-02-03T20:07:11.996-08:00Going for a Dip
I've just been reading the blog of someone I don't really like that much, and then Mike's blog, and some blogs here and there and everywhere, and it seems so easy for these people! Maybe because I want to be a writer I feel like I have to be much stricter with the way I write, and I come off sounding stiff. This might not be my best writing, but I can write well, mold my words Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1075859820561639312004-02-03T17:57:00.000-08:002004-02-03T17:59:19.513-08:00Toeing the Waters
Don't misunderstand me. I don't need to test the waters--I'm just not sure I want to get wet. I'm a self-hating blogger; I hate everything I've written so far. I want to delete it all, permenantly. Perhaps I just dislike being faced with my own writing. Everything I've posted has been so trite, so forced, that I feel discouraged to pursue writing at all. Will it get Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1074324364604214692004-01-16T23:26:00.000-08:002004-01-16T23:27:59.686-08:00Ass-Fantastic
Mike is ass-fantastic.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1070795305680479212003-12-07T03:08:00.000-08:002003-12-07T03:08:37.266-08:00Business
Let me make an obvious and widely-known statement: One's senior year of college is often exciting and enlightening but scary at the same time.
I think the single greatest discovery I've made so far is that I'm much younger than I realize. At the risk of sounding pretentious (a risk which has never stopped me before), I've always felt very old, and I think it is true that I've always Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1070222645583378592003-11-30T12:04:00.000-08:002003-11-30T12:04:15.533-08:00Title: Disputed Territory
It's amazing how easily and completely we can lie to ourselves. We can even tell ourselves lies while knowing that we're doing it, and somehow this action doesn't create a paradox that sends us into a coma. I suppose that's one thing the human race has over computers: the ability to process paradoxes with realities without freezing. Something as simple as telling my Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5930344.post-1065938377038583622003-10-11T22:59:00.000-07:002003-10-11T22:59:36.383-07:00Wow, my very first post.
I gave in. I couldn't take it any longer. I'm jumping on the tail end of a trend. A trend I loathed and slandered (inside my HEAD) at the beginning.
I wanted to think that I wasn't that self-absorbed. But I am, and everyone knows it. But I still thought, "Who would want to read my bullshit?" I found myself reading others' bullshit, however. First my friends, thenEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07824057627311419982noreply@blogger.com