haaaaaaaaaave you met ted?

okay, this seems to always happen. I read my course notes for my EarthSci class the week before the exam, and am utterly delighted by them. Sometimes, this is because of the content, which can be pretty fascinating (or just make you feel infinitesimally small, but not in a bad way), but it is often because of my prof's lecture notes themselves. This is a guy who gets offended (so much so that he makees surre to put it in the course introduction) that people refer to Earth as "the Earth", as it is a proper name. I get it man. I feel your pain. As one who loves this great hodgepodge language of ours (a linguophile? an anglolinguophile? awesome), I am, by extention, one who loves the rules of language. So right on man. I've just experienced someonee getting feisty over people referring to Moon as "the Moon" (Moon is actually a satellite, just so you know).

But yeah. In this evening's readings, I have come across:
Several interviews with satellite hunters and top theorists reveal that the definition of a satellite is not clear and that there has been almost no discussion, professional or casual, about whether there should be any lower size limits set to separate real satellites from miniature imposters. And nobody is in a rush to do anything about it, apparently!
"Imposters"? And his sense of annoyance in the end? Brilliant!

Also:
However, in the next chapter we’ll be looking at Jupiter’s satellites, and their geology is awesome!


So yeah, it all boils down to the fact that I totally think my prof's excitement about this stuff is pretty adorable in an old-prof-who-retired-but-still-wanted-to-teach-this-stuff sorta way.

Luckily, my exams are this week. I'm kinda fucked for them, but when these courses are through, I have a feeling I won't be avoiding the computer nearly so much, so I'll be around more.

Oh, also, I strongly strongly urge you to watch "How I Met Your Mother". I find it endlessly entertaining, and it stars Jason Segel, Alyson Hannigan, Neil Patrick Harris (who is SO good), the stunning but unfortunately named Cobie Smuthers, and the pretty adorably awesome if not kinda pathetically romantic Josh Radnor (well, I'm sure he isn't, but his character, Ted Mosby is, but I still love him). And Bob Saget narrates! Who could ask for more? You just have to get over the fact that there is a laughtrack (boooo hisss), but this show is pretty much a staple of my evenings now.

More to come. I know I keep saying it. I'll be done with this tedious student life soon, and onto freed up time and focused creative efforts. Big things are coming friends, big things.

amanda

I'm well aware that it's been a while - practically a month, to be precise. So hey there, howdy if you still check this out.

I just saw Transformers. Anyone who has ever heard me bitch has heard me bitch about Michael Bay, so these kudos taste pretty salty. But they come well-deservedly, so whatever. THAT is what a summer blockbuster should be, rather than shitty sequels. I feel like I just came off the greatest rollercoaster in the world, and I don't even like rollercoasters. Yes, it was typical Michael Bay in that the camera moved too much, the shots were often too close, and half the time you couldn't tell what the fuck was going on, but it's a movie about fucking robots fighting in the street, so that didn't come as a surprise. Surprisingly, there was a lot of humour (which I think was Steven Spielberg's added touch, but I'm not griping). I was thoroughly entertained, and if Harry Potter is half as good as I've been hearing it is (and Ratatoulle as well for that matter), then my summer of blockbusters (well okay, Rat's not a blockbuster, but whateves) is golden.

And I've read Allison Bechdel's Fun Home, which was a great read (and a lovely gift :) ). It was obviously written by and for English majors, as the chapters tend to mimic (or at least excessively relate the text to) certain "biggies" (a chapter on Joyce's Ulysses, one on the myths of Icarus and Daedalus, one on the anti-hero). I didn't find it pretentious, but I think I was also the target audience, so who am I to judge (snobs do love snobbery). I felt the references were written for people familiar with the stories rather than to show off how widely-read the author is (and speaking as someone who adopts storylines, I know it can be unavoidable; I too am guilty of experiencing and interpreting my world through the narratives I read). So anyway, a lovely story about a father and daughter who are running at parallels. I highly recommend.

Also, today I was listening to Icky Thump (the single), and was overcome with how it reminds me of Allen Ginsberg's Howl. I don't want things to remind me of Howl. While I don't think Icky Thump is as disturbing, it expresses a similar sentiment, or perhaps I am just crazy for trying to read a guitar solo. Anyway, there is something profoundly sad about Icky Thump, but angry too - there is frustration, there is irritation, there is a squealing guitar and a rough, constant drumbeat. There is foreboding and threatening, but there is loneliness. And then I realized a different sadness: it's going to be impossible for me to find someone who can read the profound sadness inherent in a rock song guitar solo. Perhaps this is my descent into madness, but things seem to be becoming more clear.

Life becomes very isolating when you are within a certain intelligence bracket. I am generally modest, but fuck it: I know that I'm smart, or at least that I'm not stupid. I'm also well informed on a variety of subjects, and as such, like to philosophize on combinations perhaps unexpected (for example, finding similarities in Ginsberg's Howl and the recent White Stripes single). The difficulty in this is that I don't really have people around here to discuss these things with. I'm used to living in a university setting, where even though I was still surrounded by idiots, they were idiots with a certain amount of intelligence. Your average Western gal or guy still had to manage an 80% entrance average. That isn't to say I am completely surrounded by fools here - there are people who I work and live with who I can bounce some crazy ideas off of, and I'm appreciative of that. I've just realized this creeping sense of dread: this is it, guys. For the rest of our lives. There are more idiots than smart people out there, and this is where we operate.

But before I sound like a complete snob, which I know is a hole I've already dug, this is really just incited by worry. I know that I am of "the floating gender", as The Art of Seduction would put it. But beyond that, I like graphic novels AND knitting. I like country AND rap. I like Transformers AND The Bicycle Thief (actually, I don't really. But I have seen it, and I do think there are merits, but I'm not in the habit of saying I like things I don't just because it would make me seem more hipster cool, even though I just did, but I feel this parentheses remedies that). Anyway, I just can't help feeling like I'm too diverse. My interests seem varied and opposing. I think I'm a bit of an anomaly, and I rather like myself, but yeah, isolating. So while living here is clarifying in that I knowing who I am, and I like who I am, I don't like that I am who I am living where I am, which is in the big world, and not in the little university swimming pool where quirky girls are considered cute and not weird.

So this wasn't intended to be a tell-all about how I feel about me in the world, but fuck it. What's a blog for if not airing out insecurities.

Oh, also, photos WILL be coming soon, and I WILL get around to scanning in that comic. Eventually. I think I may try doing more of them, because I rather enjoyed it. Current knitting project is a hat, and it is causing me some mighty problems (I'm learning a new stitch called the purse stitch, which is damn near impossible to do because I have no idea which stitches I'm supposed to be stitching into what, or even what the finished stitch is supposed to look like, so if you can imagine that confusion, you can see why my knitting project is taking me forever (which is also because it's knit on these tiny needles, UGH)). I've also purchased a Boye Needle Master, which I know no one has ever heard of, but it's basically an interchangeable needle kit, and it makes me SO HAPPY. seriously. Knitting needles should not make a girl this happy, but my god, do they ever.

I have photos from Pride, but they're on a camera that has 8 photos left to be taken on it, and I'm not one to waste film. So something exciting will come along eventually, and I'll bring my glam cam, and when that happens, I'll develop the photos and post them - scout's honour.

I should probably go, now that you have a tidbit about what's going on. I am generally happy, which is good. I'll be happier once my summer courses are over, which isn't soon enough. I have one essay left to write of my university career - crazy amazing stuff. I can see finding the motivation to do it will be challenging. Later dudes, keep it chillin'.

amanda

PS. I am currently reading Toni Morrisson's Beloved, and it's not as creepy as I thought it'd be. Her prose reminds me of Atwood in that it's very poetic and non-linear, so it's been a rather enjoyable read, although disturbing. More after I finish.

PPS. oh, also I forgot to add that in my absence, I became an extra in a Tim Burton film! Not actually, i just got stitches. I sliced open my arm on the inside part of my elbow. While I was at the hospital, a nurse had the kindness to point out that the big gross mucus-yellow jelly thing was my exposed arm fat. YEAH I saw my own arm fat. I didn't even know elbows were fatty. Anyway, they're out now - my dad and I took them out on my kitchen table, which seems very homespun and sorta badass in a weird way ("Yeah, I cut out my own stitches"). My scar is killer; I'm using it as street cred. Or I've been telling people that it's where the government implanted a chip with super secret confidential information for safekeeping. You know how it is.

PPPS. http://ethanhaaswasright.com/
Just sayin'.