Hectic week

Uni transfer application.  *facepalm headdesk headWALL*

Rethinking my schedule for my last quarter at community college.  Planning to take a geography class that is supposedly to count as a lab science.  It really bothers me that the uni doesn't define lab science--at least for transfer students--anywhere on their admissions website, and the people on the phone can only give me vaguely optimistic theories.  In fact, it bothers me so much, right now I'm up late at night (or is it morning?) trying, via several trains of Google searches, to find the answer.  Failed, needless to say.  Not happy.  If I were to take this class and find out it doesn't count, I'd be seriously unhappy. 

It'd have been a jolly gloomy spring break if that were all I've been up to.  Well, we worked outside last weekend.  I bought and cut out this pattern today, hope to work on it tomorrow.  Watching The Virginian S4.  My new Kensington mouse came in the mail--best mouse EVER, and on sale too!  Reading The Great Enigma, at long last.  Bought a "poncho"-style tunic top at the thrift store.  All is well in my personal life.

And it's raining steadily, which to me is a bonus. 

Good night, good morning, have a nice day, whatever time it happens to be where you are!

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Dear Blogger,

I DON'T WANT THE NEW BLOGGER INTERFACE.  NEVER. 

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Short Stories vs Novels

© Georgie Sharp
If written well, both are equally awesome.  I can't say I prefer one over the other--I've read some short stories with better characters and more depth than a novel, and some novels with plots more riveting than a short story.

However.  At this point in my life, I'm feeling nostalgic for my bookish life of ten years ago, when I devoured the Sherlock Holmes short stories and began writing short stories of my own (with a frightful attempt at the Victorian style).  I'm less and less willing to read books longer than 200 pages.  Maybe because I've never completed writing a story longer than 200 pages.  Maybe my attention span is simply shrinking (actually, that is very true).

What about you?  Do you have a preference?  And if you prefer novels, what could an author do to write short stories better?

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Dystopia

Took my last final today--Modern Conflicts.  I think I got an A+, which would be my highest grade for that (usually difficult) class.  Well, I'll find out Monday.

For all its difficulty, it was an amazing class.  Now when I hear about certain political figures and events on the radio, or in the news, or online, it's not so vague anymore.  My sense of geography is hugely improved.  Off the top of my head, I can at least estimate dates for events that I couldn't place before.

More importantly, this class made me appreciate my life more than I did.  That might sound cheesy, but it's true.  It's so easy to take things for granted--political stability, human rights, national identity, even climate.  But some people live their whole lives without any of that and without the ability to find it.  That's daily life for millions of people.

The Hunger Games hits theaters today.  I'm not going to turn this post into an opinionated spiel, but let me just say this: why not read about dystopias from history, ancient or recent?  What does a fictitious trilogy teach us about sadistic dictatorships that we couldn't learn from real people?

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Blogging from school: Special Edition

The restrooms are haunted, I tell you.

Last quarter I found a fake $100,000 bill (or was it more?) in one of the stalls.  Today, guess what, I found a booklet with the title "The Execution" printed on it and a picture of a noose.  [Just to clarify, I didn't touch or keep either of these lovely keepsakes, nor did I wish to.]

Now I'm off to study for my second history final.  If I blank out on the test, I'll know why.  >_>  

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Life and times, ii

Studying.  For finals week, this week!  Thankfully, Tech Writing ended with a super easy assignment--four-paragraph movie review.  Jolly good thing, after our big recommendation report (group project) of the last two weeks. 

Photo-taking.  Daffodils and awesome windmills.

Reading.  The Club of Queer Trades (G. K. Chesterton) and re-reading Heart of Darkness (Joseph Conrad).  Chesterton was a genius with the sheer power of his word choice.  Oh, and Heart of Darkness...I loved it the first time and this time around I know why--Conrad's writing, both style and substance, is pure gold. A good book is three-dimensional; Heart of Darkness is 4D. 

Writing.  Absolutely nothing at the moment.  But I've got a trillion and one ideas in my head, for stories present and future. One of my characters is just begging to be written about, which is troublesome since there are two stories that come before hers.

Watching.  Good Mythical Morning, The Virginian, season 3, and Miss Marple (Margaret Rutherford). 

Thinking.  About anonymity on the internet and how it affects the psychology of individuals and humanity as a whole.  I've been thinking about this for several days, actually.

Weather-watching.  Cold, sunny afternoons.  Gothic rainy days.  Snow, on and off...in fact, this month I drove in the snow for the first time.  Luckily, it was 'ideal' snowing conditions--no ice on the road, just snow.  Oh well, it was my big adventure for the week..

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11 Things tag

From Sophia, at Revolving at Two Speeds:

The Rules.

✔1. Post these rules.

✔ 2. Post 11 random things about yourself. (although this one can be optional)

✔ 3. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post.

✔ 4. Create 11 new question for the people you ask to answer.

✔ 5. Go to their blog and tell them they have been they have been tagged.

11 Random Things About Myself:

1. One of my dream projects is to create a 5+ ft. structure using toothpicks & Elmer's glue.

2. I prefer real keyboards over touchscreen keyboards.

3. I absolutely hate talking on the phone (unless the person I'm talking to is a close relative).

4. I love to quote people, real-life and fictional.

5. I don't like popcorn much.

6. Joseph Conrad is currently my favorite author.

7. I'm good at quickly inventing long, complex passwords.  So long as I write them down, all is well.

8. I have what is called "synesthesia", mostly when it comes to numbers.

9. Public speaking doesn't scare me, though I'm super reserved and dislike talking in general.

10. I've learned how to say seven things in Russian--"Good day", "Hello", "Hi", "Thank You", "Yes", "No", and "I love(d) you" (it's Pushkin's fault!). 

11.  I've been told at least three times in the last six months that I strongly resemble somebody else.  Random, indeed.  It would be interesting to meet these people; then I could actually "see myself as others see me."

11 Questions:

1. Can you describe your ideal wedding in three words?
Traditional, small, relaxed.

2. What's the best outfit for a day on the town?
Something nice-casual with comfortable shoes.

3. Rain or sunshine?
Both at the same time.

4. If you could eat one food forever, what would you choose? (It would provide ideal nutrients, it's just a flavor thing)
 Pizza..

5. Do you use Pandora? What's your favorite station you have? If not, what kind of radio do you listen to?
I don't listen to radio much anymore.  Sometimes the classical station.

6. What's the last thing you wrote?
A to-do list.

7. What do you order at Starbucks?
Pumpkin, peppermint, and eggnog lattes.  They need to make those all year round!  (Or maybe not, haha.)

8. If you got to chose which of your five senses to lose, which one would you chose to lose?
Probably smell.

9. What would you do if you knew the world was going to end in five minutes?
It would depend on where I was and what mood I'd be in.

10. Biggest plan for summer so far?
 Publish my poetry book, if I don't get it done this spring.

11. How do you calm down when you're frustrated/upset?
Sometimes I play the violin, and that restores rational thinking.  Or I just find something else to do that gets my mind off it, or explain it to a family member.  If it's a big deal, a good cry in my room helps.

Prayer always helps, too.  I remember once I was upset, and it wasn't even a big deal, but I felt the need to pray for help.  Literally within seconds, I met someone I hadn't seen in a while who cheered me up.  It might seem like a "little thing", but it made a real difference to me.

 My 11 Questions:

1. Five of your favorite words (in any language)?
2. Would you rather stand in line for 3 hours or sit in a conference for 3 hours?
3. Spring or Autumn?
4. Do you have any historical heroes, and if so, who?
5. Three of your favorite quotes?
6. What is your favorite dessert?
7. A series you like (TV, book, etc)?
8. Three of your favorite colors?
9. A phrase you are often heard to say?
10. Three of your favorite accents?
11. You're stranded on a desert island for life, but are allowed to receive one section--Nation & World, Local, Sports, Business, etc--from the weekly newspaper.  Which would you choose?

I tag anybody who would like to be tagged.  :)

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Grid Design?

Good or bad? 

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3.14: Happy π (Pi) day!

Acknowledging Pi Day is a new tradition on all that is gold.  Though admittedly, when somebody asked me during an exam today what day it was, I couldn't remember if it was the 14th or 15th (the Ides of March). I had been sure it was Pi Day, but characteristically, I was not sure the moment somebody suggested a shadow of doubt.  Flashes of photographic memory told me March 11 was printed on the church bulletin, so I decided (correctly) it really must be the 14th.

I don't know how normal people celebrate Pi Day, but a glance at the unit circle (oh, bane of Precalculus students!) seems appropriate.

credit: Gustavb

Student's Application of the Unit Circle:

1. Attempts to learn the reasoning behind the madness. 
2. Is 80% successful with the help of a patient teacher/tutor/parent/superhero.
3. Memorizes Unit Circle, after much Trial and Error.
4. Attempts to remember the reasoning.  Unsuccessful.
5. Headdesk.
6. Forgets everything on the Unit Circle.
7. Learns s/he can do pretty well if s/he only memorizes Quadrant I. 
8. Goes back to using addition and subtraction to find other angle measures...in much secrecy and shame.

In retrospect, methinks the best thing you can do is simply memorize the Unit Circle and don't bother to remember the "why's", or else you'll start thinking of the Unit Circle as an actual graph of a function with a triangle spinning around and around inside of it with tangent and sine and cosine playing hopscotch in your head.  Just focus on memorization, keep things nice and simple.  (Note: this is unofficial advice).

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Arrows!

↨  ↓  →  ↑  ←

Now I know how to type arrows!   Happiness!

P.S. Alt -23, -24, -25, -26, -27.

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Indeedy

Few things more frustrating than being awoken by an alarm clock or well-meaning family member, when you're in the middle of a wonderful dream.  And never knowing how it ends!

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Chesterton and Conrad on Facts

© Daniel J Maxwell

In the last few days, I've been perusing two radically different books: G. K. Chesterton's The Club of Queer Trades (a first-rate audiobook) and Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness (my beloved publicity copy).  The first is a humorous collection of adventures in Victorian London.  The second is a profound, psychological study set in Africa under British imperialism.  Two books could not be more unlike.  But while I was reviewing some of the more outstanding quotes today, it struck me both books have similar things to say...on the subject of facts.

It's a weird coincidence.  I have a habit of reading multiple books at once, but between books of different genre, there is rarely such a complete, simultaneous overlap of message/meaning.  If it doesn't bore you to tears, read the excerpts below and tell me if I'm just seeing things:

   "Facts," murmured Basil, like one mentioning some strange, far-off animals, "how facts obscure the truth. I may be silly—in fact, I'm off my head—but I never could believe in that man—what's his name, in those capital stories?—Sherlock Holmes. Every detail points to something, certainly; but generally to the wrong thing. Facts point in all directions, it seems to me, like the thousands of twigs on a tree. It's only the life of the tree that has unity and goes up—only the green blood that springs, like a fountain, at the stars."

* * *

    "But, after all," I said, "this is very fanciful—perfectly absurd. Look at the mere facts. You have never seen the man before, you—"

    "Oh, the mere facts," he cried out in a kind of despair. "The mere facts! Do you really admit—are you still so sunk in superstitions, so clinging to dim and prehistoric altars, that you believe in facts? Do you not trust an immediate impression?"

- Chesterton

   For a time I would feel I belonged still to a world of straightforward facts; but the feeling would not last long. Something would turn up to scare it away. Once, I remember, we came upon a man-of-war anchored off the coast. There wasn't even a shed there, and she was shelling the bush. It appears the French had one of their wars going on thereabouts. Her ensign dropped limp like a rag; the muzzles of the long six-inch guns stuck out all over the low hull; the greasy, slimy swell swung her up lazily and let her down, swaying her thin masts. In the empty immensity of earth, sky, and water, there she was, incomprehensible, firing into a continent. Pop, would go one of the six-inch guns; a small flame would dart and vanish, a little white smoke would disappear, a tiny projectile would give a feeble screech -- and nothing happened. Nothing could happen. There was a touch of insanity in the proceeding, a sense of lugubrious drollery in the sight; and it was not dissipated by somebody on board assuring me earnestly there was a camp of natives -- he called them enemies! -- hidden out of sight somewhere.

* * *

I believed it in the same way one of you might believe there are inhabitants in the planet Mars. I knew once a Scotch sailmaker who was certain, dead sure, there were people in Mars. If you asked him for some idea how they looked and behaved, he would get shy and mutter something about 'walking on all-fours.' If you as much as smiled, he would -- though a man of sixty -- offer to fight you. I would not have gone so far as to fight for Kurtz, but I went for him near enough to a lie. You know I hate, detest, and can't bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appalls me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies -- which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world -- what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do. Temperament, I suppose. Well, I went near enough to it by letting the young fool there believe anything he liked to imagine as to my influence in Europe. I became in an instant as much of a pretence as the rest of the bewitched pilgrims. This simply because I had a notion it somehow would be of help to that Kurtz whom at the time I did not see -- you understand. He was just a word for me. I did not see the man in the name any more than you do. Do you see him? Do you see the story? Do you see anything?

- Conrad

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C'est moi

When I do my homework, as planned.

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On Goodreads now

http://www.goodreads.com/chaconne

Check out my library, follow/"friend" if you want!  I'm still in the (never-ending) process of adding/rating books.  Reviews are still going to be at Tanglewood because I can't stay within character limits.

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Goodreads?

Out of curiosity, how many of you are on Goodreads?  I'm thinking of switching over to that site (from LibraryThing). 

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Dear Google,

The new "Prove you're not a robot" verification system?  FACEPALM.

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Tea and Light Conversation

Tea should be the official beverage for procrastinators.




First you have to boil the water.  Then choose a flavour.  Make the tea (the quick & easy way, you know).  Wait for it to steep.  Wait for it to cool.  Finally, drink the tea.  By this time, it's probably cold and too strong for normal human beings.

All of this is a euphemism for the breaking news you were all waiting for: my US History class  test was rescheduled for tomorrow.   So I've got two tests tomorrow, and I should be studying now.  But I'd rather be blogging about tea, and the inanity of small talk.

The definition is so cute: "light conversation for social occasions".  Picnic on the White House lawn.  Ok, perhaps not that extreme.  It is more like attempted conversation during moments of awkward silence.  Obligatory utterances.

Anywho.

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