Oh yeah!

It just occurred to me that I never mentioned on here about our impending move. When I say our, I mean Lindsay and myself and when I say move I mean residence-wise. I'm sure I've told some of you already, but for those of you who don't know, Lindsay and I will be moving into my dad's house for a couple of months while he goes to Australia for my sister's wedding. He needed someone to housesit and make the place looked lived-in and Lindsay and I needed to get out of our apartment. 3 years is enough. Our place is getting very depressing and a new development is that, through the cheap drywall, we can see all the studs sticking out just a little bit. Lindsay thinks there are some serious structural issues at work there, but I just think they used cheap and thin drywalling. Either way, time to get out of there. After we move out of my dad's place, we were kinda hoping to get a condo or something in the city, but that doesn't look like it's going to happen, so we're going to try and get a nice apartment that's big and bright and a place where we can entertain. See above description of current dwelling in reference to why hardly anybody gets invited to our place.

This brings me to the point of this blog. I'm looking for some people who would be willing to help in said move. I know I've already got some volunteers lined up, but many hands make light work, as they say. In appreciation of any brave souls who step forward to take the challenge, a sumptuous BBQ lunch (or supper, depending on when we get done) will be provided at my dad's place, which is excellent for parties. Depending on the weather, we'll probably have it outside in his nice, big backyard and the pool might even be set up for anyone interested in that. The big day will fall on April 29, and we're hoping to have a lot of the little stuff moved by then, so it will be mostly big stuff. More details to follow.

Once again

So here I am once again, wasting time from the massive (well, to me its massive) amount of work that awaits. I'm in the process of trying to muddle through a research assignment on a topic which no scholarly person or organization have deigned to write about, which is super odd. I wrote a paper on William Gibson's "Johnny Mnemonic" (the short story, not the horrible, horrible movie) and if you know anything about Gibson, you'd be surprised that there isn't anything on the topic. This guy invented the term "cyberspace" in his first novel "Neuromancer" and is considered the grandfather (or father, depending on who you ask) of cyber-punk fiction, which is a huge genre. I mean, what else, besides computer manuals, do hackers read?? Anyways, besides that horrible project, about which I just e-mailed my prof, I have 2 essays due. Neither one of them is very long, but I just finished writing that other paper and my (forgive me) B.S. meter is running a little low. It would be nice to take a couple of days to recharge, but there's no rest for the wicked, as they say.

As for my previous blog about how I thought the last couple of weeks of school would be easy to get through.... forget it. It sucks! Going to class is one of the biggest chores now, I'd almost prefer to go to work and clean! Trust me, that's bad. Only about 2 more weeks of classes to slog through, so hopefully I don't give up on myself and not go to them. Anyone who feels like praying for me could pray that I would have the determination to finish all the work I have left to do and be able to stick it out to the end.

The cleaning freak-out begins!

Lindsay is very familiar with what has become an infrequent occurence around our place. Sometimes I just get so disgusted with all the papers lying around and dishes and stuff that I just freak-out and clean as much of the place as I can before I get tired. I don't know why it happens or why I can't keep it from happening by trying to keep the place tidier, but I think it's a result of having to live in my mom's place growing up. She's quite the packrat and I see some of those tendencies being passed on to me. I guess the freak-out is my attempt at fighting against those tendencies. I usually spend a couple of hours going aimlessly from room to room picking up garbage papers and other things, putting them into appropriate piles, and then figuring out what is dispensable. This is part of my break from the freak-out because I usually need to catch my breath at some point during the episode and gather my thoughts concerning what to tackle next.

I should get back to it, though. The shredding pile needs to be attended to as well as the stuff in the washing machine, dishwasher, and I still need to vacuum yet. Woo hoo!

P.S. Don't ask me to come over to your house during one of my freak-outs because I'm immune to the messes of others.

You ever notice...?

Have you ever noticed how hard it is to write in sarcasm? I mean, when you say something sarcastic people usually notice the snotty tone or however your particular brand of sarcasm rolls off the tongue, but it doesn't always come across when you write it. Besides the ever popular, "If you hadn't noticed, that was sarcasm" line, how does one get across a sarcastic point without turning the whole thing into an utterly ridiculous hyperbole of what you're trying to say... er, write?

?

Made you look

I've been thinking...

Yeah, I know, scary. But I have. Do you ever have one of those days where you wonder what if...? What if this or that had happened, how would my life be different? What if I never existed? You know, things along that line. I don't really want to think about those things in particular, but I have been all the same. Maybe it's from God, a bit of prompting to make some changes in my life so that I can say when I'm in heaven, "The world might not have been the same without me, for the short amount of time I was there." As I type this, it seems pretty selfish and slightly depressing. If I'm doing things for some kind of legacy or something, then I'm not sure that even counts in God's eyes. I dunno... I'm not the type to worry a whole lot, just ask Lindsay because sometimes she gets frustrated with how little I worry, but I seem to be worrying about this. Like I said, not that I want to, but I am. Maybe if you, dear reader, have any insight into that kinda thing, you could drop me a line. Maybe I'm just paranoid. Maybe I should just forget about it. Maybe I don't even know what I'm talking about...

Here I go again...

Ah, Bohemian Rhapsody, how I enjoy thee. Yesterday, Lindsay and I had a day almost entirely to ourselves (finally) and we went out in the morning. I wanted to go to Confed mall because there's a guy there that can fix basically any kind of watch in no time and I had a couple of watches that needed some batteries replaced. I was so sick of wearing my Walmart watch I began drawing on it in the hopes that I would be disgusted enough with it to go and get the other watches fixed up. While we were there, we went to CDplus and bought some CDs because they had some ridiculous deals on some good album. We ended up with one for Lindsay, one for me, and one for us both. Lindsay got Burton Cummings "Up Close and Alone" cuz she grew up with that kinda stuff, I got Classic Queen which explains the opening to this blog, and we bought a greatest hits of U2, all for 30 bucks. I haven't bought a cd in a very long time, which you could see if you saw the library list on my iTunes, so this was exciting for me. Of course, I ripped them on to the computer as soon as I got home so I could pick my favs and put them on the ol' iPod. I didn't particularly think that this was blog-worthy, but Amanda (of all people) was bugging me about how much time had elapsed between my blogs. So here you go, Amanda. Happy now? :P

P.S. I also got a 79 on my last english essay, which I thought was ok (not the best, but I can live with it) and my prof for my other english class didn't mark mine because he missed it. That's how school is going, if anyone was curious. And oh yes, I'm going to be done this year so all the boring lectures in between now and then should be easy enough to get through... I hope.