Monthly Archives: February 2003

Inferno: Canto III, Line 9

I always wonder who reads this. I try to never write for anyone else; after all, the things I write about are things that bother me, that I need to get down. It puzzles me sometimes when I read people’s journals, and they start to talk to their friends about something, or to some phantom audience. I can understand why one would do that though, since the point of some are to inform friends of how one is doing. More often than not, however, it seems to be an exercise in narcissism.

I wonder what someone would think of me, if they were reading this without ever meeting me. Would they be able to see all sides of me? Would they be able to understand who I really am? Most of the time, what I write is out of necessity, and ends up being some sort of complaint, rant, or confusion.

I think most people would believe that I’ve lost hope. It’s quite the contrary really. Ever since the summer, I’ve gained hope to a degree. Of course, I’ve often stated that hope is a bad thing, and I still feel that way to a degree.

What I’ve come to realize is that I should possibly try to hope for the future, but not get my hopes up. The difference between the two is in length of time. Getting one’s hopes up has a more short-term connotation for more tangeable ideas, whereas hoping for the future is thought of as hoping for something that is currently unknown. If the future is ever to become the present, I’ll try to keep myself more grounded.

And if the present were to come to fruition?

Maybe it would be a good thing.

Thoughts After A Bad Phonecall

Leave it to a single phone call to fill me with worry. Now I’m anxious about my marks, my mid-terms, my projects, my graduation, my life. Pat gave me a pep-talk yesterday, and it helped. Graduation seems uncomfortably close. I’m dying to know how the story ends.

Patrick was nice enough to come up to me and start a conversation the other day. I asked him how his work was going, and he told that he’s really enjoying it. He let me know that the Montage project in becoming really big, and they might be looking for more workers, and that if I send Chau my resumé and let him know that I can work full-time during the summer, I might be able to get a job in development, instead of informatics.

God, my sentences are becoming more and more structured like something Henry James would have written, although I’m sure I’m not able to be as descriptive, or as brilliant, since he’s a well renowned author infamous for being garrulous, whereas I’m simply a computer science student, only able to write when necessary.

There seem to be a few Five Alive flavours on the market, such as “Tropical”, “Citrus”, or “Peach Passion”, but none taste as good as “Berry”. Aaron, Trolley, and I all agree that it tastes like Skittles. The juice from concentrate has a slightly varying taste from the one in the bottle; I find the latter to be a little more tart and a little sweeter.

I’m getting a new Intellimouse Explorer sent to me via snail mail, thanks to Trolley. I called up Microsoft, told them that my mouse button was double-clicking when it should have single-clicked (as instructed by Trolley), and they told me that they would send a new one, free of charge. I don’t even need to send my current one back. I got my current one four years ago, and I remember spending $100 on it. The pads of it have been worn out unevenly, causing a noticeable wobble. The latest design of the Intellimouse Explorer has a lower, sleeker profile, and more easily accessible thumb buttons. Yay.

After talking with my geology professor I feel dumb as fuck. I almost failed my mid-term; my mark was the second lowest in the class, even with a generous grade curve. I think I did considerably well, considering the fact that I had three mid-terms that day, and the fact that I find my mind to be dead when I have my Tuesday lectures after a 7:30am lab. Apparently, I have very little common sense. Although I know that zinc is the main ingredient is sunscreen, or that soft-drinks contain carbon, I don’t know that nitrogen is an important element in fertilizer or that graphite is a popular industrial lubricant. The list of what I don’t know goes on and on. I had no fucking clue that baking soda is sodium bicarbonate. To my prof, all of this is general knowledge, so it’s assumed when dealing with the course. I was never good at chemistry, and my programme of studies isn’t even close to related. I also took the prerequisite at the beginning of university, which is four years ago. Fuck.


I think Dolly may be interested in having another cat around the house. I’ve been playing some cat sounds, and no matter where she is in the apartment, she’ll coming running into my room. A second cat is something I only started to consider this term. Last term it felt as if I wouldn’t be able to handle the chores, let alone doubling my annual veterinarian bill. Sometimes she seems lonely though, like when she immediately starts to cry when I walk in the door after a day of school, her protesting only being soothed after picking her up, and being replaced by a low purr. I’ve always seen myself as a one cat person; I think I’d feel a little imbalanced if I had more than one. If I do decide to get one, it will definitely be after I graduate, definitely after I find a stable job, and possibly after I can purchase a condo. It would be more for Dolly than for me though. I can’t imagine finding another cat that is as well-adapted as she is, so the idea scares me a little.

One time I discussed with Pita whether he would ever consider getting two dogs. He said that he couldn’t, not just because it would be much harder to handle, but because he would feel more favourable to one or the other.

The idea of favour is one that I haven’t been able to understand. How can parents love all their kids without liking one more than the other, especially when one follows the desires of the parents more closely. It might be something I don’t understand, being an only child. If such a balance is possible, wouldn’t polygamous relationships work as well? I think part of the misunderstanding stems from my confusion of relational love and parental love as well.

For love is the root of my imbalance.

Old School, Frozen Carrots, Etc.

I was exhausted yesterday. I worked almost all day on my graphics project, and Aaron came over to work on his Scheme assignment. I was able to talk to him for a few hours before starting the work. We caught Old School at the Coliseum near his place, but it was still a thirty minute walk in one direction. The movie was too predictable, but had some very well done scenes, such as Will Ferrell getting shot in the neck with a tranq dart. I thought some parts were almost insulting though, like a completely gratuitous camera shot of Elisha Cuthbert‘s ass while she was laying on a bed. It’s not that I don’t find her behind to be a thing of beauty, it’s that it feels like the producers are adding shit like that in just to get more people in the audience. I guess it’s been happening for a while now; ever since Shannon Elizabeth bared her twins in American Pie, teen movies have been becoming more and more sleazy. I still enjoyed Old School though, and generally laughed my ass off.

Watching Old School allowed me to discover a decent song called Dust in the Wind by Kansas. I’ve also been downloading a lot of Canadian singer Holly Cole, who has a beautifully expressive, olive oil voice. I enjoy Bagdad Café in particular. I found two versions of the song, one live and one studio, which are good but with their own unique flaws. I prefer the live version because it has a simple piano and bass, instead of synth sounds in the studio version, but at one point she becomes obnoxiously loud, as if she was oversinging the notes, the way a trumpet would sound if the trumpeter was blaring. It makes her voice seem almost masculine, which is a big turn-off. The way she mixes her vibrato with her flaring is very seductive though. In the studio version, however, she seems to start off one line a little flat, before pushing her diaphragm to hit a note without going falsetto. It surprized me, since studio songs tend to be a little too perfect.

I finally put up my poster of Dominique Swain. Aaron helped me decide on the linen closet door, since the walls in my room are so big they dwarf my modestly sized poster. I haven’t put it up since second year because it didn’t seem to fit into the simpleness of my room.

I’m not especially happy with yesterdays entry, but I desperately felt like I had to get something down. It’s a little too trite for me to be satisfied.

I bought a bag of frozen carrots and pearl onions to try out the last time I went grocery shopping, since I’ve been trying to eat more vegetables. I found out today that I really don’t like pearl onions. They taste like what I imagine an onion would taste like after being soaked in water overnight. I tried to have the carrots only, but the bag is supposed to be a mélange of the two, and the taste of the onions ends up seeping into the taste of the carrots. I really enjoy having a bunch of onion slices sautéed before adding in a pork chop or whatnot to the frying pan, but pearl onions seem to be a different breed of onion.