Witty Title Goes Here

Theoretically, it should, at least.

I really don't have much to talk about. I'm kind of bitter, on account of the girl I've been sort of hoping to go out with for the last month or so just turned me down. As nicely as possible, certainly, and we're still good friends, but...eh. It's the first time I've really had that happen, had a girl I've been after for a while spurn me like that. It was the old "You're sweet, and I like you as a friend, but I just don't see you like that" talk. Sigh, sigh, very deep sigh. But, as the saying goes, life goes on. 24,998 other eligible girls on campus, after all.

But in the realm of good news, I'm making strides on getting that radio job every day. Basically, I'm going to the studio whenever I find myself with a free hour or something and working on recording my voice in mock "breaks." Breaks are those bits on the radio when you hear the jocks talking about the next song coming up or the contest that night or something. I went in yesterday and recorded myself doing five breaks, and today I shared them with Harry Guscott. He told me that I was much improved, and in fact was doing "more than adequately" (which from him, apparently, is high praise), but I still had a few problems. No biggie, that's what practice is for.

Today I participated in a taste test at the Food and Nutrition building. I figured they might appreciate my unique perspective. They gave me cups of juice and told me to rate them and give brief descriptions. I sampled pineapple-orange (I liked it) and apple (not so much). The cool bit was they gave us crackers and a glass of water to cleanse our palates between cups. At the end, I got a coupon for 50 cents off a meal at one of the dining halls, so I went and had lunch there. I discovered that broccoli is another vegetable I can eat, so I had some of that and some spinach. Victoria recommended that I get some garlic and cover my vegetables in it. She may or may not have been joking. Perhaps her goal is to get me to spray half-chewed garlic-and-vegetable admixture out of my nose with sufficient force to dent the wall opposite.

I'm sad to say it, but I have officially decided to drop my Spanish class. It has to be done. I can't compete in this class. I got a 39% on the first essay and a 58% on the first test. I don't even want to think about the oral report I would have had due in three weeks. It just requires a level of fluency that I don't have and can't acquire in time to succeed. My mother will be upset, and I commiserate, but frankly I know when I'm beaten, and I'd rather have a W on my transcript than a big fat F.

I went to my first session in the procrastination study. My doctor ("I'm not a doctor yet," he said when I addressed him as such. "I'm in the last year of my doctorate. I have two master's degrees, though," he said, when I looked a little suspicious. "I'm no newbie.") is an affable fellow named Bob, and I spent most of the first session just talking about my problem and trying to come up with things that symbolize it well. He wrote down some things on a piece of paper and suggested that I read it when I get up and go to bed. Whatever works, I say.

Eh. Not terribly inspired to write at the moment...I've been thinking of writing a new line of short stories. I call them "Protector of the Universe." It's about a human who was fated to be, well, the protector of the universe, and to this end on his 21st birthday manifested insane, godlike powers with which to keep a lid on things, cosmically speaking. The stories would follow him as he traveled around Earth, taking care of various supernatural discrepancies. Yeah, he's too powerful to be directly opposed by pretty much anyone, but in some of the best superhero stories I've ever read, the power of the main character is irrelevant to the story. Storylines of the Incredible Hulk and the Sentry directly reflect this - they're mostly too powerful for anyone to fight, so the story doesn't focus on their big battles, it focuses more on inner issues. His abilities take a backseat to what happens and a more psychological aspect, how he deals with things. Though he's in no danger of failing, how he takes care of business might be just as interesting. I'll write one and see how it goes.

Today sucked. There was a tornado watch, and of course tonight had to be the night that I walked all the way to the bookstore outside of campus, in a driving rain. And I think my umbrella has holes in it. Today seemed rife with, I don't know, ennui seems like a good description, if my definition of ennui being "a sort of tired boredom" is accurate. Overcast and rainy days always get me down. I'm not usually like this. Nothing seems terribly interesting. Eh. Either it'll fade by tomorrow or I'll have to seriously kick myself in the behind in the morning to get things going again. Maybe I'll pick something I feel strongly about and build up a head of rage. Anger always dispels depression for me.

Anger, to me, has always been greater than depression. Anger is a productive force. I don't believe depression has ever spawned anything at all useful in this world except maybe for some art. Anger is one of the driving forces of civilization, of invention, of passion and fire.

Tomorrow, if I have free time, I'll go to the Apartment Hunters shop I heard about from my RA, Ricky. Since I got wait-listed for housing on account of some misfiled paperwork, I pretty much have no chance of living on-campus next year unless I qualify to be an RA. So I'm looking for an apartment. Mike, if you're reading this, I'll find a place where your share will be around $2,000 a semester, or less if I can find it. I'm willing to pay a little extra on my share to keep yours down - frankly, even if I do this, it'll be less than I'm paying now. Hume is the most expensive dorm on campus, costing over $2,800 per semester.

I'm listening to music as I write this. My music player is on "Random." I glanced at the song I was listening to, it's by Metallica and called "My Friend of Misery." Next song, I think.

Ah, Disturbed's "Land of Confusion." Awesome song. I feel better already.

On the plus side, I'm going to a club for the first time in my life on Friday evening. Friday's going to be busy for me: from 4:00-7:00, I have my RA retreat. At 7:00, Dungeons & Dragons begins. And at 11:00, I leave for the club, whichever one it is we're going to. I left the planning and suchlike entirely to my friend Catherine, who has much more experience in these matters. It as yet remains to be seen how I handle the club scene. If it's at all what I expect it'll be - a smoky, poorly-lit room packed to the eyebrows with people trying to act cool and music pounding over speakers at a volume that violates certain laws of physics merely by existing - then I probably won't do it much. But, as I say, it remains to be seen how things will go.

And, that's about it. Today's Luke-Approved YouTube Link of the Day is probably going to be http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFtw7qW7Vcw This is for anyone who's ever wondered exactly why Captain Falcon has the move "Falcon Punch" in Super Smash Bros. As for everyone else, well, it's only thirty seconds long. Give it a try, it's pretty funny, in an over-the-top kind of way.

REPLIES. (in a bit.)

Steve: Truth. Twenty-six days.

Enish: Thanks for the vote of confidence, man. I truly appreciate it. You really have no idea how much you did to keep me going...

Steve: Whoa there, Skippy. I want to start eating better, not be a whole-grain and tofu-eating lunatic freak such as yourself. I can't stand whole-grain pasta, it tastes like it's made of sand, granulating to pieces in my mouth. (And no, I haven't just been buying the cruddy kind.) And I did get actual vegetables, not just juice, read the whole list.

I know about stadium runs. I tried to do it once, and became exhausted after about 15 minutes. I know, I know, out of shape. I'm working on it, dadgummit. I'll take the picture when I'm good and ready. STFU about milk.

Mike: Yes, yes, blame the action cards and not my supreme awesomeness. Bear in mind that you did have the Dreadnought and several other ships. I had, literally, a Carrier and a handful of fighters, out of range of helping.

Mom: I'm chipping away at this whole radio-station gig a little at a time. When I advance next is up to Mr. Guscott. He'll tell me when I'm ready, which I am hoping will be soon. There's no way to bypass Steven's milk-related objections, not now. He's on a roll. I'm actually eating raw spinach and broccoli as my main vegetable staples, at the moment. Haven't tried sweet potatoes. My posture is okay, better than it was. It's a slow process.

Steve: I have only one response: fermented milk??

Michelle: Good to see you still going. You had me concerned a while back. And thanks.

Dad: I am hoping so. I have my demo tape on me, but it's on a minidisc, and I have no idea how to convert that to a CD or any other medium. And I'm still working on the food, dangblastit.

End.