This meant I was 15 minutes early for my 13:30 exam, instead of 15 minutes late for the hypothetical 13:00 exam. I did give myself a bit of a scare though: there were only like 5 people in the room at that point. Fortunately I recognized a couple of them.
Even more fortunately, the essay questions were all ones I'd prepared thoroughly on.
Feeling less stressed: unless I fuck up exceedingly badly on my last exam monday, I should end the semester with four As and a B. Whew.
My hand hurts.
It's been a while since we last heard from Jim Woodring's generic anthropomorph Frank, but he's finally ready with a new book, "The Museum Of Love And Mystery".He's been posting pictures from it over the past few weeks, and they're incredible...



(There are huge desktop-size versions of those on his blog, too.)
- Music:Daturah - "Warmachines"
DroopySalmon: I'm being a walrus.
Sean: You are the walrus?
DroopySalmon: that's what i said
Sean: Are you out of your element as well?
DroopySalmon: sure
Sean: So who is this, btw?
DroopySalmon: why don't you tell me?
Sean: Well it's clearly someone who hasn't seen Lebowski enough
DroopySalmon: well who the fuck are you?
Sean: Calmer then you are.
DroopySalmon: that's not a who
Sean: Isn't it? Are you prepared for the philosophical conversation it would take to arrive at such a conclusion?
DroopySalmon: you're some dickhead cheerleader?
Sean: A calm dickhead cheerleader, perhaps.
DroopySalmon: the only conclusion i give a shit about: who you are and why you keep messaging me at random times
Sean: I've actually never messaged you before.
DroopySalmon: yes
DroopySalmon: you have
DroopySalmon: if you're not going to answer any of my questions, i'm going to end this conversation, which is obviously the only entertainment you have in your pathetic life
Sean: dude, you messaged me
Sean: I should really be working
DroopySalmon: good one
Sean: And not distracted by this walrus talk.
- Location:Snackpalace
- Location:Snackpalace
I could listen to it for days.

The Sopranos in the background helps me edit. Woohoo.
Go back to your business. Nothing to see here.
- Location:Couch
- Mood:
cheerful - Music:Sopranos music, how the hell should I know?
I did not expect to end up with a sunburn in Sweden. It has been so incredibly sunny and warm here, and I have seen so little sun in Seattle lately, I have become a sun-whore. My uncle has a nice back deck for soaking up sun. It is also a great help with recovering from jetlag. After two nights I am pretty much adjusted to the timezone and feel somewhat human again. The highlights hasve been: http://www.wanas.se/ and my uncle's homemade chocolate pot de creme. I feel very peaceful and relaxed here, but tomorrow morning I am off to Berlin. Now, I need to get back to my sunning.
Originally posted on kgi.vox.com

Check it: Dynamite the Moon.
I know I threw a ton of new music at the both of you last week (and I expect those detailed reports on each track in by noon today, est!). This one kind of came at me from left field. I was working on web stuff for the studio when I turned on some gear for some background music (silence makes me edgy!). The random accident of chance put a nice delay on the ER-1 and I dropped an arpeggio over that and before you know it I was late to work, obsessed my the track. I spent the entire day on it and a lot of subsequent free time working it over.
I quite like the murky darkness of it. The development came as a surprise and it led into some very strange places for me. For one thing, I am doing things in LIve 5 still, even though a fresh Logic Express * awaits my tender caresses. I sort of enjoy pushing the ol' G4 to the very limits, running the CPU meter at 75% while skirting the limits of audio integrity.
Funnily enough it started as a much simpler, more ambient piece. Hahahahaha. That is always the case, ain't it? I wanted to catch the weird stuff that happened with my Yamaha REX50 when I overloaded the 23 second reverb with the Sh-101's arpeggiation. Now, actually, you can't even hear it, though the pads on the left side of your stereo field are the file of that sound put into Ableton's Simpler and made into a pad. Duh. I think I will have to do a remix or another version to amplify that stuff, as it's kind of cool how it completely overloads.
Also, I think this is showing some heavy influence by the work of one
Enjoy!
- Location:Desk
- Mood:
cheerful - Music:Some frigging Mozart
one of my favorites from 'help!' -- lovely period mod details in this sequence. note chairs, colored walls, and recessed living room nook just for ringo and his tambourine. i could also write a story on george harrison being the sexiest boy w/ the crookedest teeth.
Heat go way now plz.
- Mood:
hot
Frivolous news from the last few days: Iron Man rocks like a moraine. I gotta say, were it not for the drugs, my crush on Robert Downey, Jr. would knock the pants off the one I have for Johnny Depp. (Also, unlike Depp, Downey's never made a really bad movie, or at least not one I know of.) Probably has the edge anyway, honestly. Stay strong, RDJ.
I found a black Jackie O-style dress that looks awesome on me for not a whole hell of a lot of money, along with two pairs of jeans that fit me for even less. (One pair is grey, which I'm not entirely sure about, but since they otherwise fit me beautifully and only cost $10, I couldn't not get them.) Fortunately, it looks as though the repairs to my car that I had partially done today--I have to wait on a part to have them completed--will cost far less than I expected, so it's okay that I spent some money on clothes. Also, I finally found out today that the H&M in Atlantic Station will open June 13th. Finally!! The one at Northpoint Mall opens this weekend, apparently, but while I'm excited about finally having an H&M, I'm not so excited that I need to drive up to Alpharetta to go to it.
Between the fading burns and the self-tanner, my skin is changing colors at an alarming rate. I'm still not quite ready to show my feet in public--they're going to look odd all summer--so it's a good thing that the weather has been cooperatively rainy the last couple of days.
Oh, and I picked up a new copy of Season 2 of La Femme Nikita for cheaper than I paid for my used copy of Season 1. I don't know that it was a great tv show, but I love it so very much.
CLASSIC.
No one batted an eye, but the verdict?
"DON'T MIX CHICKEN."
1) Nobody cared we ate KFC in McDonalds... they were just happy to be eating lunch for lesson money than a gallon of premium gas costs while their kids played on the jungle gym.
2) The laugh was on our stomachs... never mix chickens
3) Neither combined or by themselves were very good.
4) The guy at McDonalds who took our order was excited to see us...
5) Not even Marco's comments and actions could break the fry guy's concentration.
6) I'm pretty sure 1/2 of McD's staff is on probation.
7) Chicken Potpies are good food
8) The chicken tasted like their previous chicken sandwich, and had nothing to do with the south.
9) Give Marco the opportunity, and he will be sure to ruin you lunch break and afternoon for that matter (never combine chickens)
"There was an Ocean's Thirteen of probationaries behind the counter."
woman 1: "ooh chile, you make fried chicken just like my mama did down south. you coat your chicken pieces in a paper bag!"
woman 2: "you know who else has...chicken? in...bags? mcdonalds!"
woman 3: "gurrrl!"
I stopped in for lunch today after picking up my final project for editing. Aung looks... crushed. He canceled his cable service because he just can't bear to look at the images anymore. Their Dad gets back next week– but essentially it's indescribable. Bodies are starting to decompose.
If you can't make it in to the buffet on the 1st, you can always stop in- they've got a jug set up for donations. Basically, my feeling is this– the military and local gangs are pretty much ensuring that any formal NGO aid gets circumvented. I believe that the Myint family has the good will and the ability to ensure that real people get some help. Even if the task seems hopeless.
Even if you can't donate anything, go in and enjoy tasty food, and let them know you care.
---
The Mohingar soup has made me feel some better. During the exam my head and neck were aching terribly, and I wanted nothing so much as to throw up– except that you can't leave the room and come back. My stomach feels better but my head doesn't. I'm alternating a bag of ice between my head and neck.
I picked up my final project from 379c. I got a 92% on it. I get a 92 on all the major projects in that class. She says I'm operating at a high level, and had a good product; I shudder to think of what she's giving other people. I have to finish the final exam and turn it in by 1pm tomorrow, which is also when my cartography exam starts.
God, my head hurts.
I need to find about six or seven hours of music that makes me feel exactly the way the Be Good Tanyas' "the littlest bird" makes me feel.
A little help here?
This review is especially for my dear and intelligent LJ friend
arylla! As promised, I just finished re-reading this book and I was right: if you don't want to read an entire academic work on the Japanese homosexuality of the Tokugawa times, you can read this. And I am sure you'll enjoy! Not only because it's really interesting and the perfect companion for a cup of tea in a rainy day as today. But especially because it's incredible well-written, even though I only had access, of course, to this translated version. However, as a Doctoring theses I believe the translator tried to be as close as possible to the original meaning. He writes a wonderful Introduction to the Japanese History and Culture of that time which might help a lot readers not used to the theme. And he also, of course, presents Ihara Saikaku, a poet (his skills writing haiku seems to have been amazing!) and writer, and probably a shudo (male love) follower. Saikaku wrote this series of short stories based on his knowledge of this way of love and presents to the reader this fantastic world I truly admire. Especially because of its rituals and manners. Through his writings it is even more clear how common and wide-spread the custom of loving men was in Medieval Japan and how much it was exalted in high society. But Saikaku writes in a period where the bourgeois was growing and trying to follow this higher classes ways; thus he divides his work in two parts. The first one deals with the samurai class, the highest, and the way they exalted and used to follow the nanshoku (a synonym for shudo). Although this is the class I study, I have to confess that their extreme ways of loving is quite shocking sometimes, especially when they would cut off parts of their bodies to prove their love. Not to mention the way they would always minimize relationships with women in order to prove boys were the best to have as lovers. The second part deals exactly with the citizens and their way of following shudo. It shows the underworld of the kabuki theaters and prostitution houses, and the way both mixed perfectly. Saikaku also describes many of the most famous actors, their relationships with their patrons and the fascinations they inspired in the audience with their representation techniques and beauty. It's a fantastic work, extremely agreeable, interesting and perfect for those students of this period of Japanese History as it is also a publication of primary documents.
- Location:Study room
- Mood:
accomplished - Music:Non, je ne regrette rien - Edith Piaf
But. BUT! It is a picture taken in Richmond, Virginia, and that is where I am heading tomorrow. So it's fitting.
I don't think I'll be standing in any sink holes this time, however. Although I suppose that option really depends on what kind of wedding reception
I should probably stop talking about weddings and sink holes, huh? Doesn't sound too cheery. NO MORE SINK HOLES. But there will be booze. Oh yes.
My dear friend Jay will be in town all next week, so if anyone wants to come out for drinks/food/fun, let me know! I plan on taking him to at least one burlesque event (Lucky Cheng's sounds good) and other than that, we're plan-less. I almost wrote pant-less. No, we are not pant-less.
LASTLY
OH
MY
GOD
I've managed to seriously fuck up my foot. I've either bruised / sprained (if that's even possible) / or fuck ~ broken? ~ something on the TOP of my foot, where it bends. The top? Really? What the fuck is THAT about, Julia??
HOLY FUCK FIRE it hurts. I'm walking like one of those freaks you see coming down the block, and you immediately cross the street because your crazy radar is jammed and you can't figure out if the person is going to give you a daisy, or hit you in the head with a brick. I HATE BEING 'THAT' PERSON.
I do remember falling a little strangly last Sunday, but my foot seemed fairly normal on Monday.
Then again, I DID walk eight miles home on Tuesday. Because I am smart. Like dolphin. So now my foot is wrenched. At least it's not my left one (although hi, Daniel Day-Lewis, call me!)
I wonder if there's a support group for "People Who Should be Ambulatory but Just Can't Quite Manage it for No Good Reason"? I'd sign up.
LASTLY PART TWO:
Like I told
*My own, not yours, ya bunch of freaks. Gross.

