The lingo

Oy. It seems like forever since I've posted. I guess it has been, but this week has gone by fast.

I've found that almost every girl I meet represents an opportunity for me, and all become failed opportunities. For you guys who are in the same position I am, read this handy reference guide for decoding what she and I are really thinking while we carry on our little introductory conversation.

Me: Hey! (Whoa baby!)

Her: Hello. (Oh please, get over yourself.)

Me: What's your name? (I hope it's not the same as my sister.)

Her: My name is... (Well, he's going to find out anyway...)

Me: What kind of stuff do you like to do? (I'm not that weird, maybe there's something we have in common.)

Her: I like... (He'll pretend to like anything I say, so I might as well make it up.)

Me: I like that stuff too! (Jeez, what weird stuff.)

Her: What do you like to do? (This should be interesting.)

Me: I play the guitar. (Hey, it's the truth.)

Her: Oh, my boyfriend does too. (Hey, it's the truth. What, does this guy think he's special because he plays the guitar?) So what kind of music do you like? (Probably polka or something...)

Me: Uh, classic rock, mostly. (Classic rock, oldies, same thing.)

Her: I like [some genre that's actually popular today]. (Yesss!)

Me: Cool. (Darn.)

Her: Well, gotta go, see you later. (Get out of my way, I never want to see your horrible face again.)

Me: Okay, bye. (I might have chance...)

This is not something I've just pulled out of the air. It's based on actual experience. I've actually received "My boyfriend plays guitar too" several times. And one time I was told "My parents'll kill my brother when they find out he's dating a girl who isn't Jewish." It just seems that some greater powers have conspired against me to prevent me from going out with anyone.

But for those who would otherwise tell me this, I'm sure that one of these days...

...pow, to the moon. It's more likely than me going on a date, anyway.

Ask Jordon.

Tom: I am selling my house in Buffalo. Here is your chance to see snow. Are you interested?

I wish. I don't think I'd be able to live up north; I'd only be able to tolerate a visit. From what I've heard, snow is cold.

Yellow Chicken: What's your all-time favourite font?

I like Helvetica for its enduring chicness, but I don't have it. Back in the day (a few years ago) I liked Tom's New Roman by Divide by Zero Fonts so much that I used it for a science report. Other than Tom's New Roman, I can't think of any other fonts that I've had a love affair with. (By the way, I no longer have that one either.)

Regret the Error is a blog that reports on corrections made by news sources. Some are funny, some are just plain weird. It's an interesting read.

Thank you, Uncle Sam!

Today I got my very first tax refund from Uncle Sam: a check for a whopping $3.81 from the United States Treasury. My mom did my taxes for me; she says they took about one second to do. So, how should I spend my first tax refund? Sure, it's hardly any amount of money (it probably cost more to print and mail the check, with all its security features and whatnot). But I only get 49 more of these before I retire! Anyway, the comment board is open if you have a suggestion.

The other day I found out that another person from school died. This time it was a teacher: Jim Allstaedt was his name. I don't think his loss was felt as deeply as that of Mr. Laguerre last November or Jonathan Krix less than two weeks ago. That's because he had been on a leave of absence this year due to illness.

This morning was the first day back from school since Jonathan's and Mr. Allstaedt's deaths, and as expected, it began on a somber note. After the late bell at the beginning of first period, an administrator via the PA system told the teachers to turn on their TVs for an important announcement.

The setting of the televised announcement was the school TV studio, and as such, the lighting and sound were good. It was broadcast in black-and-white. Ms. Phillips, the administrator in question, sat somberly in front of the TV camera to explain about the double tragedies in a tone that was clear and forceful, yet marked with sadness. She showed a picture of each of them to the camera. She then explained that anyone who wanted to talk to the guidance counselors could do so.

"Jeez," my teacher squawked, "they explain it to you like you're babies or something." If you thought I was cynical, spend an hour in her class.

Sprechen sie Deutsch? Although ein Berliner ich bin not, I still found this game rather fun. The game shows you a map of Europe and asks you where a particular city is. You then have to throw a dart at where you think it is, and you are scored by how close your throw is. It's especially challenging because everything is in German; see how well you know your German names of European cities. Play the game (sound warning).

These eyes

I had an eye exam yesterday. It was at the same place as last year's exam. I guess this will be my new place now.

Of course, I was nervous that I would need glasses or something because my eyes are sitting in front of a computer whenever possible (I was nervous). I think the doctor said that my eyes were getting worse (particularly my close-up vision), but they were not bad enough to need glasses yet. My visual acuity (now you know what to call it) is still 20/15 (6/4.5), so when it gets worse it will at least be average for a while.

Oh, and Samson the collie was there too. I still think he's a health hazard, wandering around an optometrist's office like that.

The doctor reminded me (again) that for every ten minutes of looking at the computer screen, to take your eyes off it for 30 seconds. I had very rarely done this because it was annoying and I never ever could remember to do it. I figured there ought to be a program to remind you, and I thought that once I learned some programming, I could put one together.

Guess what? I have learned some programming. So my next programming project (once I get done with the present one) is to work on that. (The present project is stalled because I can't for the life of me figure out how to give the program its own icon without distributing it as a separate file. Nothing code anyone has given to me has worked. CheezySlots users take note that if you move slots.ico and CheezySlots.exe into different directories, the program will crash. That's the situation I'm trying to avoid.)

All this program will do is appear minimized (or preferably in the system tray) when you load it (which should be whenever the computer starts up), and it will maximize every 10 minutes for 30 seconds with a reminder to look away and a little counter to count the seconds. I'll try it out myself first, and it doesn't have to be fancy then. The main workings will be easy; I suspect the hardest part will be getting it to load in the system tray and having a little context menu when you right-click its... ugh... icon.

A few years ago I had an ad-blocking program for Internet Explorer (ah, those were the bad old days). It blocked pop-ups! (Or pop-up ads, as we [I] used to say.) It also blocked banner ads (or any images with the same dimensions). But I got rid of it for some reason, and even after switching to Firefox, I didn't use ad-blocking software, even though Firefox blocks pop-ups natively. But yesterday I downloaded Adblock, a Firefox extension that allows you to block just about any images, scripts, inputs, Flashes, videos, frames, and iframes you want. One word: wow. It uses regular expressions to match them. A regular expression is a method of matching text; it's so powerful, in fact, that entire books have been written about them. Here's a relatively simple example:

The forwardslash indicates the start of the regular expression. http://ads\. indicates that this filter will block any element that contains "http://ads.". The backslash before the period indicates that the next period is to be taken literally as a period. Since the second period doesn't have a blackslash to "escape" it, it is treated as a pattern matcher (the period character indicates a match of any single character). The ending fowardslash signals the end of the regular expression. This expression will match elements such as "http://ads.example.com/images/buythis.gif". Pretty handy, huh?

Once you have a basic knowledge of that stuff (you don't even really need to use regular expressions, by the way -- it's just for more advanced filtering -- in fact, I probably didn't need to have that as a regular expression), then you can enjoy the web as it was meant to be seen: without annoying ads everywhere. Once you have a good set of filters, it's truly amazing to see the Internet in a whole new light -- and it's much more fun than simply avoiding sites that have annoying ads. Get Adblock.

This is just weird: Roy Orbison in Cling-film, which I would assume is what I'd call plastic wrap. Sensual (?) short stories about the late, great Roy Orbison being wrapped in plastic. If you don't care for that sort of thing (it's not dirty, though, really), at least enjoy the weird writing.

Sun, surf, sand, and Doritos

Yesterday I went on an outing to the beach with my friends. I overheard that it was a spring break tradition for us to go on a trip to the beach, but I could only recall having gone along last year. Anyway, I thought to myself that I didn't really like the beach because there's nothing to do there. (As a Floridian, I take it for granted.) I just need to go every once in a while to remind myself of why I don't like it. But it was actually fun.

Last year my friend set out some food in an open space and watched the seagulls gather to take it. We thought it would be funny to plant some food right by someone sunbathing and oblivious. We brought it up again yesterday, but instead of doing it to a total stranger, we decided to do it to Mark.

Here's us burying him in the sand (that's me standing). He doesn't know I'm about to unleash Dorito crumbs over him.

Once we scattered the chips around him, he decided to go along with the whole thing. After all, they're just birds, right? So he had a shirt put over his head so as not to scare the birds away.

We thought that the birds weren't very eager to come up to Mark because maybe they mistook the shirt over his head for another bird. So Mark got up and lay in another spot, where we covered him with sand and put a towel over his head. And, of course, we brought more Doritos. I think we had taken the whole bag by now.

I think we used the rest of the bag, but there was another whole one. But they were Cooler Ranch flavor anyway, so it was okay.

After that a few of us went to Mark's house to rent and watch movies. Our original plan was to go to the movies, but I think I messed that one up by insisting that I take a shower beforehand, so we would have been late. Oh well. Anyway, I stuck around to watch Shaun of the Dead, and by then it was late, so I had to go home. I was tired; it was a long day.

Today Ask Jordon tackles a deeply profound question.

tyler: is god real?

I dunno... I guess.

I'll admit it, I like to skip. But Iskip.com is kind of sad. If you are obsessed with bouncing along wherever you go, read about a guy who skipped a marathon. That might be a good idea for exercise.

More 'cords

Some more records I bought a few days ago arrived in the mail today. If the store were better I'd tell you the name of it, but for now it's Name Withheld Records, Anytown, USA. One of these things is not like the others:

• The Animals - "House of the Rising Sun" b/w "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" (gray vinyl)
• The Chiffons - "One Fine Day" b/w "Sweet Talkin' Guy"
• The Gin Blossoms - "Follow You Down" (Edit) b/w "Till I Hear It from You" (LP Version)
• The McCoys - "Hang on Sloopy" b/w "Fever"
• The Righteous Brothers - "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'" b/w "(You're My) Soul and Inspiration"
• The Righteous Brothers - "Unchained Melody" b/w "You're My Soul and Inspiration"
• The Weavers - "Goodnight Irene" b/w "On Top of Old Smoky"

(I had ordered several more, but it turns out they were not in stock, so all the ones I got were by groups with names starting with "the.")

I sincerely wish that I would stick to, say, one genre of music. You have no idea how humiliating it is to buy these stupid songs on this stupid format. These are, for the most part, old people songs. "Goodnight Irene" originally came out on 78. Three and a half cool points to any other teenager who can identify what that is (was). I can't listen to this garbage. I'm supposed to fit into a mold. There are plenty available: one for each sub-sub-subgenre of rock music.

The other day I heard a song on the radio. The DJ said it was by Stone Temple Pilots, "who put the guitar rock back into '90s post-grunge." Whaa? It confuses me so. I was once asked about my opinion on punk rock. "It's dead, and besides, only the British could do it, right?" I was asked. Ummm, sure? What do I know? I was living a lie with that person; or, rather, he perceived me wrongly. As a guitarist and a fan(atic) of the Beatles, he assumed me to appreciate Beatles-and-after, whereas I actually live in Beatles-and-before, which is not how real guitarists come.

I've tried listening to some stuff, but nothing really moves me. Ska (the new kind) doesn't exactly do it for me. Heavy metal, soft metal, light metal, rusty metal -- no. I don't even know what other styles there are. Emo -- well, indie is the new emo, I've been told. Indie is weiRd with a capital R. Some of that stuff (Postal Service, etc.) is not music so much as sound. You've got your whiny white guys, non-(musically)-talented white girls, and black people -- no offense, but I have no idea what they're saying. I'm white, so I naturally can't understand that sort of thing unless I was raised in the hood.

I guess I'd call myself a music lover without a face. I wouldn't really feel comfortable listening to any satellite radio station. I can't be pigeonholed into the genres of today. When people talk music to me, all I can do is say "Yep... mmm-hmmm... me too." I can't call myself a true musician for that reason. It also leads me to think about my band.

For years I had this dream that my band -- my friends and I -- would somehow hit it big, going around playing the music we loved, cutting CDs and junk like that. Only recently I dismissed the fantasy as impossible. It's impossible to get together a band whose five members go to three different schools and like profoundly different musical styles. It just can't be done. They can be friends, sure. But when one of their asses (mine) is too lazy to call four people and pray that they'll all be able to come over on a given day (which has happened a number of times I can count on one hand), nothing happens. To add insult to injury, they can't even keep a name for a year (did I mention that the other members want to change the name again? After the nine-month band name fiasco that ended last July, I want nothing to do with it. They can choose whatever name they want.)

Having a real band won't happen. Not when we all want to graduate. My friend is taking an Advanced Placement (AP) class this year. I don't know how he lives. I have a class that's about as hard as one, and the bearing on my mind and the sheer amount of work has basically ruined my life. I'll have to be in at least one AP class next year, and those classes are quite life-ruining as well (my present teachers have authority over which classes I get into next year, so they'll all make me take AP classes), so there's no chance of doing anything on the weekends -- even if everyone could get together. (I thought school didn't ruin your life till college.)

Musically, we're different as night and day. And even though I'd like to write some songs, I really have no one to collaborate with. The songs I have written I'll never be able to play -- not when I'm with this band, anyhow. When I play the one song that I want them to learn, some of them just don't listen at all and interrupt me as if I'm not playing. No, we won't be able to play at the local haunts where all the cool people go to hear the cool bands play. You have to have a repertoire in order to do that. (In fact, we came up with this system where we do a song that each person wants to play, and thus learn five songs at a time. After, say, three years, we're still coming up with songs for the first round. Not that there's a shortage of ideas, but we never get anything done at practices.)

Of course, I place a lot of the blame on myself. I really wanted to be in a real band, but eventually that feeling has just gone away. I play my guitars, but in spite of everyone's pushing, I don't want to take lessons. That's because I just don't want to get better at the guitar. For the music I like, I'm good. The music I like has simple (or no) guitar solos, and never more than, say, six to eight major or minor chords. I can't play lead guitar. I can't play licks or riffs. I never could; that's why I play rhythm in the band. But I can't even play "real" rhythm, like ultra-super-fast power chords which I'm supposed to. So it all boils down to the music I like -- that's one of the main sources of the whole problem.

I want to keep the band going, though -- I guess only to see my friends that I otherwise wouldn't see. And to play the four songs that we've learned over the past four years. Even though just thinking about the band makes me depressed about all that we can't do, at least I get to talk to my friends.

And now a relative slew of Ask Jordons, all of which rolled in today.

Tom: Black liquorice: disgusting, tolerable or delicious?

Either disgusting or just tolerable. I can't remember the last time I had it.

kevin: you should make TWOS in Spanish, for the 417 millions speakers worldwide and the 30 million speakers here in the USA. that was random.

Right now it's in English for the 350 million speakers worldwide and the... well, like, all of the people here in the USA. I have an extremely long way to go if I want to be fluent in Spanish. If you could translate everything for me, that would be great.

lollie: i have fallen out with friend and she wot make up with me what should i do?

I frequently get Ask Jordons from my friend Sean, who disguises his identity rather thinly. I don't answer some of them because I know it's just him by his characteristic all-lowercase typing, typical topics, and explicable aliases. Even though you, Lollie (if that really is you), have typed in all-lowercase, I don't think you're Sean because you made a typo. So here's my answer.

Well, I'm answering this as a true guy, so pardon the lack of sensitivity. But if I were you (which obviously I'm not), I'd just tell her to forget about the whole thing because it was probably nothing to begin with. See where you went wrong. If she's your friend, she'll want to be your friend again too.

This sort of thing happens all too much with my sister. I don't know what it is about girls that gives them makes them prone to so much drama. It ruins them. And while we guys coolly relax with our friends, they're the ones who think we're dumb.

DigiBless! It's holy water for your files! Maybe my site would get more hits if I sent it through their sacred servers. No further comment.

Eclipse!

Ah... nothing's more beautiful than the moon moving in front of the sun. A while ago I was wondering when the next solar eclipse would be. Today the thought slipped back into my mind, so I decided to find out. It turns out that a partial eclipse is headed our way on April 8. In fact, much of Central America and a portion of the United States south of a line running from San Diego to New York will get a glimpse as well. But have a look for yourself at this NASA page on the eclipse.

Above are some details on viewing the eclipse in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, near me. Many of you readers will find it helpful, too, because you're my friends and you live nearby. If you live in the U.S. but nowhere near me, you can see how the eclipse will look and when it will occur near you by clicking the graphic above. Remember, not all of the country will be able to see it.

The first (and last) solar eclipse I got a glimpse of was probably the eclipse of December 14, 2001. (I'm not sure exactly, but I do know that it was between 1997 and 2003, it occurred shortly before sunset, and the moon partially obscured the sun on the left. So this image gallery confirmed my suspicions.) I did try to look at the sun (YES I KNOW IT'S BAD FOR YOU BUT WE ALL DO IT ONCE IN A WHILE WHATAREYAGONNADO), and I do recall that it was really bright (maybe more so than usual, but probably not). I couldn't appreciate it fully, though, because I don't think we were prepared to view the eclipse properly.

I want this eclipse to be different, however. It's not occurring during school, so I have a chance of seeing it (I remember missing an eclipse in 1997 or 1998 because it was during the school day; must've been February 26, 1998). And things are different. I have a good point-and-shoot camera. My dad and my friend have good real cameras. They've both expressed interest in going out to some wide-open spaces to see the eclipse (the sun will be setting, after all).

After looking at prices of solar filters, I thought I'd be sunk. They're pretty expensive, and I couldn't find any that are made for my camera. But after doing a little more digging, I found a site that sells bits of solar filter material that you can use for telescopes, cameras, or general viewing. That's the ticket! We could also try other methods of general viewing, though.

All I can hope for now (besides that my camera, with its 3X optical zoom and 6X digital zoom, doesn't make the sun look like a dot) is good weather. The weather here in Florida is infamous for being wayward (I just looked out the window. How long have those dark clouds been there?). We could perhaps stand a bit of cloudiness so that the clouds act as a natural filter. But hopefully the skies will be cloud-free (near the sun, at least). I could still use the filter material for sun photography (sunspots, y'know) and future eclipses... maybe the 2012 transit of Venus.

Mirrors reverse images. Ever wonder how others really see you? The True Mirror can help you find out. It's a non-reversing mirror. I think the site exists solely to plug their insane Hair Part Theory, which states that how a person's hair is parted influences how others perceive them. The mirrors are really expensive, too.

One nite only!

At a youth group meeting, we had some fun playing improvised games in the style of Whose Line Is It Anyway? (remember?). Some of us (myself included) even toyed with the idea of having a comedy night to show of our oh-so-great comedy skills. So we recently asked for permission to have a Youth Group Comedy Nite, and the request was approved. So on Sunday, April 10, we're going to have two hours of improvised fun.

April 10 may seem far away, but it's actually getting closer each and every day. So today my sister and I laid out a plan for the show: what the games will be, who will be in them, and so forth. We've decided upon the main performers (the funniest people, we think) but there will be a lot of audience participation (because everyone always wants to do something). It should be pretty cool.

I won't admit this to many people, but I kind of like The Price Is Right. After all, it is America's favorite* daytime network game show, and the longest-running game show in the history of American TV (running since 1972). The 60-Minute Price Is Right Site has lots of video and audio clips of memorable shows.

One of the reasons for the show's continued popularity is that it the only thing that has really changed (besides the prices due to inflation) is host Bob Barker's hair color. The '70s motif and cheesy music are pretty much the same as they always were. A 1994-1995 nighttime version of the show, which featured updated set designs and music (not to mention more lavish prizes) was short-lived. I imagine the show will continue until Bob's death. He is 81 years old but spry as ever. (It's weird saying "He is 81" rather than "He was 81.")

If you're only going to check out one video clip on that site, make it the one at the top of the main page. In a 1982 episode, Bob begins by letting the audience know that the cast and crew had been partying right up to the taping. The showcasing of fine products by the models is a lot funnier when they're tipsy. Those who want to delve deeper into the site will find the closest showcase bid ever, the first "New car!!" ever offered on the show, details on all 99 pricing games, stubborn Gibson refrigerators, and why Bob is afraid of Samoans. Be sure to check out the sections of bloopers and colorful contestants.

I'll have to watch the show a bit, seeing as I have the week off. Here are some more sites: A Salute to Pricing Games, The Price Is Right Game Show Tickets & Contestant Info Fan Site, and The Price Is Right Really Big Text Document.

* and, since 1994, the only

Death by computer

I thought I had heard the name before: Jonathan Krix. A year my senior, so it's likely that I had seen him around school. If I had indeed heard of him, it was never as Jonny Krix, as the obituary said. I had no idea he was the Student Government president. Oh. Well. Before I go any further:

This link won't last long, but here's his obituary in full, and that page contains a link to a guestbook. The saddest thing of all is that although I didn't know this guy, there are several people I kind of know who did. And remember the orchestra concert I wanted to go to on Thursday, two posts ago? If I had gone, I likely would have seen him as he was the day before he died. He was there.

So how did he die? I heard [hearsay deleted]. That is juuust great. [Update Fri May 15, 2009 23:26 UTC-5: I've been told by someone close to Jonathan that this is not at all how or why he died. I regret the appearance of spreading misinformation, especially about a subject that is so close to so many people. I really do feel bad about this. Please don't consider it an insult to his memory; it's just the words of a foolish teenager projecting his own concerns, one who would think twice about saying such things again. Read the rest of this post for what it is, i.e. introspection, without regard to the misinformed thoughts that brought it about in the first place.]

[Potential reference to what my own obituary might be like will not be included here. Actually, what the heck, we all die sometime.]

Actually, it would probably be more along the lines of this:

Obituaries are very expensive.

Let not the reader think that I'm trying to make this into a joke. 'Cause I'm not. I'm lucky that most of my friends and relatives are still alive, but I know how hard it is to have a loved one die, and how hard it is even for someone you hardly knew. It happens too often, far too often.

The viewing is tomorrow. Some people from school are going to go, but I don't think that I should, considering I didn't know him at all. Next Monday -- when school resumes -- is going to be a sad, sad day.

And if computers kill, lots of us (including me) would be dead by now.

Here's an exercise in thought: write your own obituary, as if you had died right now. The comment board, as always, is open.

I have something to say

I have something to say. But first, let me throw out a few facts to give you an idea of what my life is like:

• I am not allowed to have a cell phone. I have never owned one. I can hardly use one, in fact.
• I am not allowed to have a TV in my room. When I was little my parents would say, "When you're 14," but now that I'm 15, they "forgot" that they ever said that. Don't get me wrong; we use 3 TVs (and have several more), but none of them are in my room.
• And having a computer... that's entirely out of the question. What, you think I blog from my room? Why would you think a silly thing like that? Is it because everyone else does? Oh yeah, that's right.
• I can't get away with saying "shut up" around my parents (or "stupid," I think; it has to have been a while since I've tried).

So, at dinner tonight, my mom mentioned that she just (about a week ago) found out about my two-week-old video, "One Day in the Desert," in which I documented the 24-hour fast which she obviously knew about. You know the scene early on in the video where I was frustrated and disappointed that some of my friends weren't going to be there? Well anyway, my mom was mad that I was mad about that, even though I got over it quickly. She was also mad that I never say anything to her, and instead I post everything here.

I responded by saying that if she and my dad wanted to pry out of me as much as I say here (which really isn't a lot, trust me), they could go ahead and do it. I'd talk if I were inclined to. Because at the dinner table, it's always "How was school?" "Good." "Do anything interesting?" "Not really." You know how it is. But my dad asks joltingly specific questions (by comparison) such as, "What did you do in [insert name of class here] class today?" That's what I'm talking about. I don't mind it. It makes things interesting. It lets my parents know what's going on. (They claim that I never say anything... well, they never really ask.)

Everyone wears different masks when with different people. We have different demeanors when we are around strangers, friends, lovers, co-workers, parents, grandparents, and other relatives. The "me" you see here is more or less how I present myself to my friends; the readers who are my friends in real life (my reader-friends or friend-readers) can attest to this. I just act differently around my parents. If I were to write this blog as if I were talking to my parents, only my parents would read it, wouldn't they?

As we have seen, my parents keep me on a very short leash. The World of Stuff is supposed to be an outlet for the things I can't say around them; everyone has thoughts that they need to express but can't because of what those close to them might think (that's the purpose of a diary/journal/blog). But since they know about this site, that doesn't exactly work. If they didn't read the blog, I'd feel more comfortable expressing certain things instead of having nowhere to let them out except to some of my friends (who aren't that many and can't always be around to listen).

While they're on this kick, they should talk to my sister, whose blog (well, LiveJournal) is private; my parents can't read any of it. She's no more talkative than me at the dinner table, and yet she seems to escape criticism. (Does that make sense to any of you? Because I don't understand it. But that's just me.)

I won't bother addressing my parents directly here. That's exactly what they complain about; that they have to read this instead of talk to me. Instead I'll tell them in person just what I've written here at the next opportunity -- before they're likely to read it.

In conclusion, I'd like to tell them:

1. that I can talk about the sorts of things I write here, and therefore
2. to stop reading this blog.

In case you found any of that boring, here's today's link: Writing English: Proofreading and Copyediting Services. Check out their rates: $0.01 (US) per word for proofreading, and $0.03 per word for full-fledged editing! I could make a killing off that kind of thing.

How do eyes smile?

Last night I had a dream that I was at a water park with Dan Rather. He went down this tall and extremely steep (almost vertical) slide. Then I was in some weird warehouse district with Walter Cronkite. My sister's friend, who has a job (one of many, the raging workaholic) as a photographer's assistant, was there, and she had a large-format digital camera like this one I read about yesterday. As I lay in bed I figured these were just some of those idle thoughts that drift around your mind just as you're going to sleep. So right as that thought crossed my mind and I began telling myself to get to sleep, my mom woke me up. It was morning.

I felt deprived of sleep even though I wasn't. But on the bright side, I rose quickly. I didn't realize it was St. Patrick's Day, so I didn't wear green, and even if I had remembered, people, I only have one green shirt, and it was dirty!

It was unusually foggy this morning. And the grass looked a wee bit greener, but that was probably just me. Of course, lots and lots and lots and lots of people wore green. But me, I wore red. Why? Because I didn't want to wear blue, and I had just worn gray yesterday. Would you people expect me to wear green just because everyone else is doing it? Isn't that peer pressure? I got pinched, as is standard practice to non-green-wearers. So I had someone (who just so happened to have a green marker) write "1/8 Irish" on my arm in hopes that it would prevent further pinching. It didn't; I got another one later. I am at least an eighth Irish, after all. That's not enough for me to go around boasting that I'm Irish. To honor my equal amount of English blood, I resented the whole thing.

At school yesterday and today we got out early because of mid-term exams. Yesterday I had World History. The exam was an essay about imperialism and colonization. The class should be renamed "Imperialism and Colonization" because the teacher hates the textbook and she doesn't teach squat else. I also had Spanish II; the test 170 questions, but pretty easy ones. Today I had Algebra II; that test had something like 55 questions, but it was hard because it had some things we hadn't learned; whoever (or whatever) wrote that test should be drug out to the street and shot (or have its hard disk reformatted). Finally, I had English II, in which we listened to some of our class's presentations on creating a society (a la Brave New World), did a crossword puzzle of vocabulary words, and wrote an essay about the aforementioned book. God, I love that class.

(Oh, and that means spring break has begun. A whole week off school. It almost slipped my mind.)

I was going to top off this too, too short and unfulfilling day with a trip back to school to hear the orchestra play. But since it's raining, my mom won't give me a ride. As my history teacher would say, "Does that make sense to any of you people? Because I don't understand it... but that's just me."

Happy St. Patrick's Day to you all, Irish or not, and a tip o' the cheap green plastic hat to my full-blooded Irish friend, Sean, who's probably at a wild party right now. I wish I were really Irish, but I've covered this sort of thing enough lately. It's early in the evening, but I'm bored and I'm tired. Bring on the CBS News anchors.

And now, flags you don't see in lists of the world's flags: Flags of non-sovereign nations.