Point/Counterpoint

Eva and Elizabeth cannot decide who gets to blog first, so we are writing a joint blog. What's new? Well, today Eva spent all day galavanting with her idiot friends while Mom and Elizabeth shopped and wrapped presents for Xmas (which we do on New Years).

Oh, and did Elizabeth mention that yesterday, she and her sister and mother went to Circuit City and Elizabeth made them watch while she tested the sound quality on HUNDREDS of those damned cd alarm clocks with the only cd she brought along: "I Think I Love You" by the Partridge Family, which she would play on the loudest possible volume over and over again?

Yes, and while Elizabeth was busy making an informed purchasing decision, Eva ignored her and sat on the floor reading "Harry Potter 3" because apparently she missed some of the subtleties the first 57 times she read it; she, by the way, was the one who insisted on playing "I Think I Love You" and was seen dancing to it.

Oh, and then while we were at "Nordy's," as Liz likes to call it, she ran into her old friend Kari and bemoaned her decision not to wash her hair for the last several days, and then promptly lost her cell phone and made everyone look for it; she was so angry; there was anger in her eyes don't you know.

It turns out Eva is not the movie critic for the Phoenix, but the Feenicks, which is a paper she writes on toilet paper with crayon and the "movies" are actually IKEA commercials and she always gives them rave reviews and the end of her columns are just "Screw Flanders" over and over and contain numerous threatening references to the UN.

Oh, and it turns out that Elizabeth isn't the humor columnist but the girl who gets up early on Thursdays and distributes the papers; in fact, she's just the person who does that's assistant; apparently, the Phoenix doesn't like people to just cut out random Dave Barry passages and paste them on colored construction paper with a big smily face on top.

Eva sells poison milk to schoolchildren.

Me, my girlfriend, and my WA (Kate)

I wanted to actually put this goddamn picture up because it is one of the few pictures in existence where I look cool. And Stef looks kind of like a character in a detective novel that's out to get you. And Kate looks happy and kinda like "Oh, Ben!" (who took the picture, not cuz she's always randomly thinking that). But I couldn't get it to work no matter what I did. I don't know what's up. So I give up. Microsoft, if you're reading this, I give up because it is too hard and I'm tired and I need sleep.

Check Ben's blog for more like this.

Never learn

Well, I did it. I applied to Microsoft again. Even though they broke my heart when they rejected me for that internship two summers ago. But I am back and better than ever. And I am going to waltz in there with my knowledge and my experience and they are going to rue the day they said "no" to me and beg me to work for them. Beg. And I'm going to say "I don't know, Microsoft. You'd better give me a boat." And they'll say "We'll give you a one-year contract and a cubicle". And I'll say, "deal."

Back home

Last night was the first night I got to sleep at home, since the night before I stayed up and wrote my last paper of the semester. It started out good, but the end was just some vague rambling about "Sex and the City". It was exactly the word limit.

I'm going to start working on some columns for the Phoenix. I think it'll be a nice way to end my time at Swat. Applying for the position was something I kept very secret so that if I didn't get it, no one would feel sorry for me. I prefer people to feel sorry for me because Genaurdies stopped carrying the Tiramisu ice cream JUST like I predicted. But I foiled their plans because they have it on this coast.

Mom and Eva and I are speeding through Friends Season 5. Luckily, 6 comes out at the end of January. It contains the best episode I have ever seen and I should throw a party so everyone can see it.

Also, I have been wearing the same shirt for 4 days now and I have no plans to change it.

Also, Eva is singing a "Jefferson Airplane" song behind me. She thinks it is called "wooden ships".

Guess

Guess who's a fucking Phoenix HUMOR columnist next semester AND just finished her fucking CS final having made only part of it up AND has to write her whole fucking Sex paper when she gets home at 3am.

That's right. And now she's off to her plane.

So many accidents

1. Alex sends out an email to the QSA list by accident talking about songs he likes.

2. I reply to Alex, berating him for being so stupid, and accidently send it to the whole list.

3. Hilarity ensues.

And now I have drunk half a Smirnoff and will write 8 pages in 2 hours. Some say it can't be done. I say they don't know how low my standards are.

salt

An email from my mother (verbatim):

So, apparently, I knocked over a box of kosher salt in the living room and didn't notice. All afternoon I stepped in it as I passed from my computer to the main area of the living room. I would notice this clicking sound, and I would think it was my loose shoe laces. Then I would look down and see that my shoe laces were not loose -- and I wouldn't see anything else. Well, now I see this big mound of kosher salt coming out of a broken box. I supppose it's all the way to the kitchen by now.


This is why she is, and will forever be, the coolest person ever.

6:57 - AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! DONE!!!! 19 and like 5/6 pages!!!! And only half an hour after I set my limit!! WOOHOO!! It's half intelligent and thought-out, and half random shit I clearly made up. Now I have to wake Stef up and convince her to drive me to campus to print. Then sleep! WHEEEEEEEE!!!

6:25 - 19 full pages. Foot notes and bilbliography as good as they're gonna get. Just gotta squeeze out one more concluding paragraph. Sigh.

4:40 - Some more writing, fiddling with spacing and margins (but not font), and I'm at a full 18 pages. Just the conclusion left. 20 pages means you have at least one line on the 20th page. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I might actually make my deadline.

3:30 am and a little over 14 pages. Getting tired. One more big point, extend the intro, and add a conclusion. While my standards gently drop...

"Miss Misery" and "Trailer Trash" (Modest Mouse). Why do I love angsty stuff when I work late? Probably cuz of high school, when I used to listen to "I am the Walrus" over and over while I pulled multiple consecutive all-nighters.

Night of Scenes: incredible acting and direction, I'll talk more about after tomorrow night. And Stef ... never ceases to amaze me. She was what I love about "Stop Kiss".

11 out of 20 pages of my Econ paper done. Due tomorrow morning. Stef bought me a pizza, which I ate happily. "Leather" by Tori Amos (from Jamboree yesterday) in the background. And I am determined to go to sleep by 6. Or 6:30 am.

It begins ...

Stef says I misspelled Olde Club. I told her to stop cramping my style.

Old Club

Brig took me to the Old Club Pub night concert tonight. The last band thought they were Eve 6, and no one had the heart to tell them any different. But then they played "Heart in a blender" and nobody cared anymore. My ears are ringing now, but I had an awesome time and it made me want to go to concerts more. Actually, it made me want to play the acoustic guitar, but I am learning to control that impulse.

I can't seem to make myself do anything of use, which is starting to become worrisome. Just starting, though. I have to get into a 5-day stretch before it's even worth thinking about.

Not much else to report here. My left pinkie finger is tingling for some reason and I don't know why. It feels like it's missing the outermost layer of skin. Friday I will dress like seventh grade when I used to wear jeans that went all the way up to my waist and crop tops that were just shirts cuz my torso was so short. And I was the person who asked boys to dance for myself and everyone else. And all I wanted was long, straight hair.

Things that are more glorious than my CS Project

Nothing.

It is perfect. It passes ALL her tests PLUS the other tests we think she'll run PLUS it has no memory leaks. We finished at 1:30 am and I have never been more deserving of being covered in gold and walked around campus with a banner proclaiming, "WINNER OF ALL!!! BEST CS PERSON EVER!!!". I was in the lab for 14 hours. I left once for 20 minutes. I ate a bag of cheetos for dinner. Tomorrow, I am going to eat yummy things and watch entertaining things and only talk to people who make me laugh.

What is unnerving is that this is probably the most accurate picture of my future I've ever had. Who says liberal arts can't adequately prepare CS majors.

What the hell do I care if I get a "C" on this assignment? I don't even want to go to CS grad school. In the grand scheme of my life, this "C" will mean nothing. Even in the grand scheme of my grade, how much can one "C" do. C. C is a pretty letter. I think it is prettier than B. Certainly than A. Sigh.

"Oh," I thought, "I'll be a Computer Science major. Sure my GPA in CS is lower than any grade in any other class. But I like it." Goddamit.

Omigod, it is seg faulting and I don't know why. 12 hours left. If we finish this project in time, I am going to do something wonderful and amazing. That may just be watching a lot of DVD's and lying around. We'll see.