What Mee and Conan (‘s Parents) Sent Me
In the not-a-train category, this inscrutably
Italian Mexican pimped-out car was in my office building’s parking lot the other day.
But anyway – the JR system is exciting stuff!
The term ended Thursday, so the last couple days I’ve been teaching myself Python. It logically follows. And just now I spent like half an hour creating sort a crappy roguelike with basic collision-detection! It’s less than 60 lines, it was totally easy! There aren’t any enemies because I couldn’t find an AI tutorial by someone who could spell words.
You shut up. I made a video game in twenty-six minutes. What did you do today?
This post was edited to add an additional link and a correction on 3/19/08.
I looked at my referrer logs for the first time in a while the other day (as, you know, I mentioned…). One of the things I noticed was that I was getting more hits than usual on this entry, and the people getting to it were doing so by searching for “denison wingless angels.” This refers to a secret society called “The Wingless Angels” at Denison University, my former college.
(Somehow, I just can’t bring myself to type “my alma mater.” I guess it’s that primal fear that the act will instill in me an intense interest in tax evasion, boats, and drinks with names like “The Debauched Cub Scout.”)
I was thinking about that during lunch today, and a small light bulb flicked on above my head. I went back to look at the logs again when I got home. As I’d suspected, the spike started in November, when several incidents of racial tension (I seriously can’t think of a less wussy way to describe that; I think that means I’m a wuss) took place at Denison.
I tried googling for the Wingless Angels myself to see what came up, and mostly only found some blog posts to the effect that they were “just some idiots playing pranks.” This isn’t exactly correct. Since people looking for information on them apparently keep ending up here, I’ve decided to type up what I know.
I went down to the grocery store to purchase two items, and two items only: dishsoap and alfredo sauce. I returned with two bags of other stuff, and no dishsoap.
So I washed the dishes with alfredo sauce.
Murgatroyd doesn’t like Ouran. This is a problem for her, because she was the only holdout vote. It is also a problem for the anime club as a whole, because she refuses to recognize the democratic process, and she and I are the ones who run the meetings.
We duel. The time: midnight. The weapon: listing manga transvestites really fast. The conclusion: foregone.
(It just doesn’t mean what I’d like it to.)
I ended up doing both [redacted for anonymity reasons] and this one (PDF).
[redacted for anonymity reasons] doesn’t really look as Designed By An Evil PR Firm as I’d like, but I didn’t start on it until late at night. The grammatically problematical sentence is a direct rip from some signs for a job fair we had Wednesday – I tried to put [redacted for anonymity reasons] next to those signs, when they were still up.
Sarah Anti-Proliferation Week went up in the bathrooms, next to some histrionic yet fabulously uninformative primers on human papillomavirus.
Naturally, I had a bunch of great ideas after I’d printed them out, dug out my tape, and stepped out to introduce them to the world. The big one was Yellow Question Marks. I should have printed out some dwarf and night-elf heads, put yellow construction-paper question marks over them, stuck them to the outsides of buildings, and sent people to mine for styrofoam ore and bring me 157 penguin ventricles, and then maybe I will give you a shield you can’t equip, and some SCALDING MORNBREW pfa.
Damnit, it’s less than a week to April Fools and I still have no idea what kind of signs I’m going to put up.
–Stuff I’ve thought about but am not really into-
1) Very serious announcements for Sarah Anti-Proliferation Day, urging that all 1500 Sarahs on campus legally change their names. Will involve bulleted scare statistics about accidents caused by “a phenomenon experts call “Sarah Saturation”” – someone yelling “Sarah!” and 12% of the people within earshot stopping and looking around.
Cons: I’ve talked about this before, people’ll know it was me. And that’s boring.
2) Signs apparently conversing amongst themselves about how Lymond is back.
Cons: No one will get it. Also, the people in my lit class might see the name “Lymond” and guess it was me, because I brought up Pawn in Frankincense to extend some kind of point about Antony and Cleopatra that I’ve totally already forgotten.
3) Signs “looking for a good home” for Zapdos, Moltres, and Articuno (“spayed, housebroken; got too big for the apartment”). Thinly-veiled Team Rocket ploy. Possibly acquire some kind of toy with plastic blue/fuchsia hair and “accidentally” get some caught in the tape.
Cons: People will know it was me. I will, illogically, think this unjust.
4) MephistoPhair Job Fair, with recruiters from Shinra Corp, Ootori Medical Supply, the Knights of the Eastern Calculus, both “Magus’s Army” and “Power-Mad Minions of Lavos,” the State Alchemists, and many others!
Cons: I’m just not feeling it.
5) The Whimsical Manga Job Fair, with recruiters from Antique Bakery, Cafe Alpha, Kyoto University School of Mushi Studies, Yuuko’s Shop, Nico’s Enjo Kousai Service, and others! (Possibly combine with 4 and put both at the same time and place.)
Cons: See 4.
6) There are some signs up about plagiarism right now, saying stuff like, “Are you a plagiarist?” with statistics formatted like “four out of ten” on them. Put up signs right next to them saying, “Are you incapable of reducing a fraction?”, with course numbers for introductory calc sections.
Cons: If I did this, it would mean I was a -ing tool.
1) Call for submissions for a “new literary campus erotica publication DeniseXXXy!” With instructions to submit via email in RTF, PDF, or PNG format, to somebody I don’t like.
Cons: The individual in question is wealthy and brittle. Lawsuits would swiftly follow.
2) Sticking the 95 Theses on some doors.
3) Mark of Samael. Should probably use sidewalk chalk.
Cons: See 2.
4) Sloppy sorority-girl-school-of-graphic-design signs wishing Anne McCaffrey a happy birthday, with implication in text that Mercedes Lackey made them. Clipart pictures of dragons arranged so it kind of looks like they’re humping.
Cons: This is a bad idea.
5) Release the scorpions.
Cons: None whatsoever.
Me: So at the party last night, did you guys lock a bunch of people out in the snow for a couple minutes?
Kon: *heh heh heh* Yeeeeah.
Me: That was rather unkind of you.
Kon, eyes cast heavenward: Well, I didn’t do it.
I believe this. Because he was at the piano bench both times I went out there earlier on, and I’ll bet he was the one playing something cheerful while the people outside were banging on the doors.
I think half of the Chinese New Year party just celebrated by locking the other half outside.
WE ARE ALL THE VULTURES
WE SAY “HI”
We got three or four inches of snow last night – on top of the several inches we already had – and it’s been sleeting all day. Thus,
* “ALL CLASSES COMMENCING AT OR LATER THAN 2:30 PM CANCELED.” See, if they’d done that one hour earlier, I would have gotten my first snow day off since high school. The library’s closing at exactly 7:00, though, which is precisely when I was supposed to be there. (I’m actually kind of annoyed about that part; I needed those hours.)
This email was sent at 2:32.
* Internet’s twitchy. Who knows if this will be posted today!
* Some people ran their SUV into the guardrail right near the dorm, right in the busiest intersection. The bumper was pretty smashed, but no one got hurt. The guardrail was undamaged. It’s made of wood, which amuses me for some reason. Hummer should make a wooden version of their penis extender. No, actual wood. Think how many dudes insecure about their Americanasculinity would buy a wooden Hummer. There could be versions with wolf-related landscapes carved into them.
* I had to buy groceries today. Yes, definitely had. It’s not because I wanted to go into town (in spite of the danger of getting hit by a skidding SUV) and see how messed-up everything looked and watch the streets nearly empty with the few cars there are going really slowly, which I always think is awesome.
So I went to buy groceries. My coat, backpack, and headphones all got covered with a sort of film of ice after a few minutes. Most of the sidewalks hadn’t been shoveled, and because the snow has been melting and refreezing over and over the past couple weeks, there’s multiple layers of ice crusts under there. I was never totally sure when I was walking on pavement and when it was ice – sometimes I’d take a step and find my foot had gone down two inches further than I’d expected.
HAHAHA it was great.
* The grocery store closed early, too. The cashiers were annoyed with me for packing my stuff into my backpack rather than just letting them put it in bags. Look, I did need that stuff to make it up to the dorm intact…
* There was a little girl pulling a grocery bag home on her little toboggan. She was insanely cute. She was not unaware of this, and said “hi” to everyone she passed so they would have time to notice that she was pulling a grocery bag home on her little toboggan.
* There were also parents hauling two very excited little boys on their little toboggans, which sadly immediately lost its Cutest Thing Of The Day status when I saw the girl.
* On the way back up the hill, one of the snowplow guys passed me, going very quickly and yelling “Wooooo-hoooooo!“
Sodexho has generously given me a light pink plastic tumbler that turns darker pink when it gets cold, in an obvious and completely inappropriate reference to nipples. I wonder if they’re going to email me telling me to deposit it in a box someplace on campus, because I am not on the meal plan anymore and am not therefore entitled to a plastic tumbler.
Printed on it in very small type is a schedule of what I assume someone considers to be the school’s “feminist events” for the next three months. The schedule gives dates but no times, and is badly spaced and punctuated.
I mean, this isn’t a disposable cup or anything. It must have been expensive to get these things custom-made. Isn’t it kind of weird to give out a reusable item with your February-March-April 2007 schedule on it? Am I supposed to treasure it forever as a memento of “Love Your Body Day” (which is apparently on Valentines Day)? Is there going to be a whole series of collectible 2007 color-change cups?
Oh, wait, the year’s not on there.
Actually, the schedule itself is even more bizarre than its presence on a cup. Here it is (formatting, punctuation, etc. all theirs):
14-Love Your Body Day
26-Mind, Body, & Soul Survival Guide
28-Let’s Talk About It!
8, 22, 29-Self Defense Workshop
19-30-“Human Breathing” Yoga
25-Speaker, Andrea Cooper,
26, 27-Lifetime Wellness Instructor,
5 Take Back The Night
Events presented by the Women’s Resource Center,
Women’s Emphasis, The Lilly Program,
Delta, Delta, Delta, and Alpha Chi Omega
It is exactly zero degrees Fahrenheit outside.
When I got to the library for my midnight-to-two shift, I noticed that the inside of the bathroom window had a white coating around the edges. I poked it and left a fingerprint; it was frost. I’d never seen that before, and guessed the window must have been left open, and only been closed a few minutes before.
Later I went into the stacks to shelve. All the windows were frosted over – the condensation was freezing as it formed on the glass. The spot I’d melted in the bathroom window had frozen over again when I went to turn off the lights at closing.
I thought I was wearing my scarf today, but during lit I realized I’d actually picked up the piece of polartec fabric I’d bought to sew a bag out of. I can’t find my real scarf. I grant that the polartec’s warmer, but my throat’s still too sore for me to breathe out there without something shielding my mouth, and polartec isn’t exactly permeable. So I have been walking around all day in a partly-chopped-up polartec pseudo-scarf, with my hands over my mouth as though I am shocked and scandalized.
To round up the list of grievances, I’ve applied moisturizer four times in the past three hours, and have put some water boiling in my rice-cooker to act as a humidifier, because I can’t breathe very well in here, either. I hope it doesn’t break.
Girl Out In The Common Room: Oh, it’s going to be 21 degrees on my birthday! We could have an outdoor party!
Guy Out In The Common Room: What? No!
Another Girl: Bonfire!
Guy: No! No!
I still feel kind of horrible. I wonder if it would help my insomnia tonight if I held my nose and drank that alcoholic beverage I still have in the fridge? Or does the soporific effect not kick in unless you drink enough to get a hangover? Because I imagine that would be at least an equally bad way to start the week. Alcohol is mysterious.
Oh, wait, you’re not supposed to drink with cold medicine anyway.
Last night, Link, AikidoBot, and a couple other people spent several hours making a really nice snow woman in the middle of the academic quad. When I stopped to look at her again coming back from work, one of her breasts had been ripped off, her eyes were gone, and a hole had been carved and sprayed with red fluid vaguely in the vicinity of where her genitalia ought to have been. The placement was a little off, and I really hope the poor person who did this eventually gets some more reliable intelligence on those parts of the female body, in case he or she is ever forced to become physically intimate with them. It’s probably not something they’re all that interested in, or even really have to worry about, but it’s always good to be prepared.
There has been an incident.
It seems that Sensei really does think of me when he thinks “Hitler manga.” I finally got the pile of manga I loaned him back today, and he added in a volume of Adolf in Japanese. He made it clear to me that he has never ceased to find this manga’s existence completely hilarious.
(The price tag’s in dollars, so I assume it’s from the tiny-little Japanese used book place in Columbus. I can easily imagine him squeezed in there having a sudden giggling fit over a manga with a frowny Hitler-youth on the cover, while the other, much shorter shoppers slowly edge away from him.)
I now feel like I need to get him something equally ridiculous. I was going to just give all my professors a Green and Black’s bar, but Hitler manga kind of ups the ante. It’s probably too late to try and find someone selling an imp of Akuma…
(In the translations sessions last year, see, we read two or three different short stories that had an Akuma in them somewhere.)
In CS we’d had a contest going on with the last assignment, which was a bunch of sorting algorithms – whoever’s implementations were fastest got an extra such-and-such points on the assignment. We spent all of today’s class timing them. I somehow tentatively tied for first with The Fear, thus completely breaking Sound Effect Jr.’s heart – he and The Fear had been bouncing off the walls about their brilliant optimization ideas, and I’d… left the lab early. (I actually came back for an extra, like, five hours later, but he didn’t see that and thus was surly.)
But I say “tentatively” because Nova, who had come in last in nearly all the other trials, actually won one of the quicksort trials. Unfortunately, he won by a lot. We suspect that his “win” might, in fact, be mathematically impossible. Seeing as his user interface wasn’t complete (gasp!), and we couldn’t check to see whether the array had actually been sorted, the professor assumed something was wrong and gave the point to me (I’d come in second). The Fear and Sound Effect Jr., whose pasty, 110-lb CS-major bodies contain far more testosterone than is healthy for them, were extremely cruel to Nova about all this.
I asked Nova to tell me what that was about when he figured it out, so I could give him a certificate ceding the point if it did turn out he’d inadvertently invented a brilliant new sort that would revolutionize computing. He assured me that he would do so. He was still looking dubiously at his code when I left the room.
“- play Risk, and he was all like, “Ohhh, I have to give a talk to Mensa,” and it was like, “You suck, now we don’t have enough people.””
I am going to fall over and die and I will fall very, very hard. On a walrus.
I wore a costume again today. Only to anime club this time, though. I was Nekozawa from Ouran Host Club, with the Bereznoff Jenan got me, and the cape. Because I have a cape. No one must ever doubt that I have a cape.
We watched a badly-dubbed movie containing the following elements: Jet Li; an evil transsexual Ultimate Warrior; Jet Li falling in love with an evil transsexual Ultimate Warrior; and the line “release the scorpions!” followed by some ninjas throwing a blanket full of scorpions.
This is the meaning of life.
I went to Murgatroyd’s room with her afterwards so I could get something I’d left there. She was in a white shirt and black wig and covered in fake blood, and I was still in my Nekozawa costume (though I’d put Bereznoff in my purse, so he wouldn’t catch a chill, you understand), and we were fortified by our intense darkness from the giggling of a group of malodorous fratlings walking (stumbling) a little ahead of us.
Just before we got to the dorm, something ran across the sidewalk in front of us and into the bushes. As Murgatroyd, the fratlings and I got closer, it ran back out into the middle of the sidewalk – it was a cat, though some of the fratlings flinched away thinking it was a skunk.
After surveying us for a moment, it did what must come naturally to all cats. It walked straight to Nekozawa and demanded to be petted.
We did so, looking around for someone aside from ourselves who looked like a cat owner and muttering darkly about the cold and abandoned animals – Murgatroyd discovered that the cat was declawed – and finally made the only decision we reasonably could, and picked him up to take into the dorm with us. After establishing that Murgatroyd’s roommate really didn’t like cats (Nekozawa disapproves of her) and calling security to ask if anyone had lost a cat, we played with him for a while, and finally decided that I’d take him to my room for the night – since I have a single, and could keep him in the bathroom where it’d be okay if he turned out to be an aggressive-peeing-type cat.
When I got him outside, of course, he immediately attacked me and jumped down. I followed him for a couple minutes, during which he got a couple other people to pet him, until finally he stopped giving me coy looks and headed down the hill into town. He looked purposeful enough about it that I decided he must belong to someone down there. I went back to the room with some good karma accumulated and no worries about cleaning up cat pee.
All this proving that Nekozawa’s aspect carries a power over cats that they cannot help but respond to.
“Oh, he might not be a thief. He might just have stolen something.”
“You know, once or twice, on the side. That doesn’t make him a thief.”
“It’s like how I’m not a congressman, I just sometimes make laws, and molest -”
“You just sometimes sexually explicit text messages to minors?”
“Sure, sometimes! Doesn’t mean I’m a congressman…”