Car Dream

Today I woke up. That in itself was an accomplishment since my wind-up alarm is clearly too challenging for me to set properly each and every day because it never goes off. I was apparently in an ultra deep sleep because Josh's horrible alarm, that always wakes me up by stopping my heart in the morning, went off for a while as Josh wasn't in the room, and I barely awoke. In my dream, I was driving my civic and I came to this intersection in the future. On this intersection there was this project under development: some super fast trolley or train. It's worth mentioning that my dream narrator told me this project was very costly and the first of its kind, but the revenue it generated from research, grants and use was greater than the GNP of small countries. So ahead of me I see all these cars trying to get through the intersection, and as they cross, this super-fast train comes along and demolishes their cars one-by-one. This happened almost every single time until it was my turn to try to cross. So I gunned it to try to make it and then there comes the train. I turn and brake, and the Civic, being the maneuverable piece of Japanese workmanship that it is, stopped enough so that I didn't die, I just got clipped by the train/super-car system, and it spun me around and I could drive away. "Wow!" I thought. "I made it through that, unlike all those other people." But I don't drive very far when, to my dismay, I learn I have to cross it's train tracks again. So I try crossing it and I get completely destroyed but I manage to bail out of the Civic just in time and escape with my life. My car is completely crumpled and flies into the air. It is so compacted by the train that it is the size of a football and I catch it as such. As I muse at how compact it became, officials come at me saying I've had an accident and must hand over my license. I try to explain that my car is no more anyway, so I don't have anything to drive and there's no point in taking my license away. They don't believe me and I stiff arm, clutching my football-sized civic under my arm, and run through them. At this point Josh is in the room with his horrible alarm of deathness, saying sorry it was going off for so long.
So where did this come from? The Civic-driving clearly came from my experience driving keith's car yesterday, the intersection has to be how I feel heading into every day (like I'm going to get hit by a train once I wake up), the police taking my license away is from the Fifth Element(which I read as Nick's explanation for one of his dreams yesterday), the compact car is how I feel my car would perform in the collision, and my trouble with the authorities believing me probably came from when I walked through the metal detector in Philadelphia a couple weeks ago, it didn't go off at all, and a stone-faced angry black guard immediately commanded me to go back through and empty my pockets (even though I hadn't set it off and had nothing in my pockets), like I was a terrorist. That moderately pissed me off how stupid it was to have 9/11 style security around the Liberty Bell, b/c what kind of terrorist targets a Bell? I mean, seriously. Somebody is going to enter the building with a gun, a knife, a rocket launcher...and is going to attack this 1776 cracked piece of bad metal-working? Well, our government apparently thinks it's worth protecting by building this big-ass building around it and hiring a dozen guards to protect it. A waste of government spending say I, then again, so is food for our great president. Anyway, I walked into that tangent like it was my business. So ends my tale of the car dream. I have to say, this dream isn't typical at all of what I usually dream about. Usually they're awesome, adventurous dreams that are exciting to tell, and hot women abound, and I do amazing things. This is why I love to dream so much! This dream of driving a car is rather mundane by comparison, and I'm a little disappointed by it, but heh, what you gunna do?
Lastly, I would like to assert that when you wake up ten minutes late and only give yourself ten minutes to leave in the first place, it results with imminent lateness, a feeling of "ugh..I don't like class," thoughts of going back to sleep, and then utter sluggishness while getting dressed and walking to class. If you saw me going to class today, you would have seen my hat and coat on, zipped tight, eyes tired and glazed as hell, staring at the pavement in front of me, and with a feeling of despair. For real, Genny saw me like this one day and burst out laughing b/c I looked so sad or tired or whatever she word she used. Interestingly enough, there were several other people late 10 minutes late like me. One girl burst out of the building door, a panicked look across her face of "oh no I'm late!" and ran down the hill. She was overweight, of course, and sprinted loudly with her feet the whole way down the hill. Gah! I thought. Egad! Learn to run a little quieter will ya? Those feet were pounding against the earth like a mallet on uncooked meat. A little to my delight, I looked up when it got quiet and I saw she was walking already, so out of shape was she. She could not only NOT run all the way to class, the short 10 minute walking distance it is, she couldn't run DOWNHILL before getting too tired. I mean, the first 5 minutes of walking is downhill, a seriously noticable decline in elevation going on here, and she ran for like 2 minutes. Actually, it is quite sad...pathetic, how out of shape Americans are. This other kid looked completely calm as he passed me on his scateboard and glanced at his watch. I far prefer his take on lateness. It was like he was late every single day by 10 minutes, and it didn't bother him at all. For me, it's like, I try to be on time, and I almost incessantly am, but if I'm late there's nothing I can do about it and that's that. It's not a big enough deal to rush and sprint to class. Anyway, I'm finally going back to sleep again for a bit since my next class on tuesday isn't until 740pm. Hopefully this dream will be far superior.

Dear Early Morning

Dear Early Morning and your accomplice, Early Class,
You suck. Please don't affect my life; I don't want anything to do with you. Me and my friend Sleep never liked you in the first place and I don't know why you keep trying to hang out with me. It's over between us. We tried it in high school, but those were different times when I wasn't best friends with Sleep. I've tried to tell you several times before, but apparently subtlety isn't blunt enough for you. I'm sure there are other people who would far more prefer your company.
Sorry for telling it like it is,
Casey

Blog Surfing is Fun!

Ah hahaha. So I found this joyous activity to do at 3am. See, at the top of the toolbar on Blogger there's an arrow that says "next blog" and it takes me to a random (i assume) blog. It's frickin sweet b/c I can read as much as I want, get entertained, read about what different people's lives and thoughts and days are like, which I find amusing, and just click next at my pleasure. What's great is when you find a very humorous writer such as this. http://miniver.blogspot.com/ And then from everyone's blog there are links going to places they dubbed interesting, so often enough it is interesting to me also such as http://enclothe.com/osCommerce/catalog/product_info.php?cPath=2&products_id=31. Okay I seriously have to get acquainted with how to abbreviate long path names into a name of my choosing on this thing-hickery-doo these designers call blogger. Anyway, I just think it's fun to learn, or get a glimpse, about people I never knew existed, and that's what I was trying to convey. Is this weird? I don't much care; it's far too fun.

Shaving...a Pillow...Standard Fun...Letter

So today was a good day in general. Thermo was cancelled!! And I read this awesome blog from Breakup Babe that's funny and witty and fun to read as anything I have read. So I had some thoughts today. Like, when I was shaving...why hasn't anyone had the great idea and crazy gusto to shave just one side of their beard? I was watching, not to my satisfaction (I was reading about Halo2 and too lazy to move, even too lazy to close the window I was freezing next to), a show about celebrities's worst red-carpet ideas/appearances. They had things such as shredded clothing, 80's styles, princess crowns, Camo, skirts over sweatpants and things of that nature, and the comedians would put their twist on it to create a scenario of how that actress had to fight off three navy seals and a guy with a switchblade before arriving on the red-carpet, but what would they have to say about some guy who shaved half of his face and left the other side fully haired-up? Like a candid shot of nelly's attributable bandaid, this man would forever be wrought into the fame of eternal fameness for his decision to just not shave the other side of his face. Seems like a small price for glory if you ask me. I mean, if you can become famous for bad singing (American Idol), looking bad has to be far easier. Best of all, if he approaches it with a sense of humor, girls will forgive him for his one-day shenanigan and perhaps his life will be convenienced with more girls as they approach him asking if he was that guy who shaved one side of his beard. Hell, if girls approached me, it'd be no problem, no problem at all to get things ticking from there...Ha. But at least he wouldn't have to do all the approaching after that. This reminds me of a story about Tim my suitemate mark wrote about in the chronicles of Tim involving embarrassing encounters he has on his website which is quite funny. Nick also has a funny website. I'll spot them when I can recall them.
So, last night, my roommate josh lent me his spare pillow and blanket as I began to turn in for the night, and it was comfortable. Today, I check the pillow, pondering, "why is this pillow spare?" and find a peculiar stain drizzled upon one corner of it. Then I recall the day he had this friend Kerrie over and he had his way with her as I went down to McLane for some hours, Mark and Bob went to Drunkville, USA, and who knows where nick wandered to? So I'm not so appreciable if this stain has anything to do with Josh's loins anymore, or any wayward female friends of his, regardless of whether he forgot or not.
Another case-in-point referring to why friends ruin weekends occurred today. As I sat reading Brian's Halo2 magazine, Mark and Nick come in and Bob gets ready and dressed to go. Nobody says anything to me. Curious. "So I guess you guys are going somewhere without me again? Don't worry, I'll just be here then," I offer not to precariously. "It's a small car," replies the Nick I never seem be able to get mad at. Yup yup. It's no secret around here I'm the least favorite suitemate. And yet I have to interact with these people day in and day out, every stinkin'' day at breakfast, classes, lunch, and every hour in between. But like the sly cat I am, I always manage to keep my language geared at them in an appropriate manner (video games aside), despite what my mind's desire conjectures. Anyway, I'm getting used to leaving for dinner without them, and though I can't break the habit of asking them if they want to go with me, I get the feeling I get when I check my mailbox: the certain truth that I knew in the first place they won't go with me, and "my mail" is a term that I can't say exists.
Anyway, Keith and I made it to Walmart after the worst dinner ever. *Sidenote, this eating thing, when it occurs at Ade, is no longer desirable in the least. It is the worst food ever as a result of mass-producing food at cheap prices, a steady supply of consumers regardless of how bad the food is, and the day-after-day redundancy serving the same food each day brings. Walmart is a fun place to be and wander around in, for those of you who don't know this, and I wish I could have wandered a bit more, but keith caught the cold I had on saturday from driving me to alfred, which sucks for him, and he was tired I believe. But we found the 50ft cable I was looking for so I can play Halo2 without interrupting Brian's or Bob's internet access, and handed over the 31 bucks to pay for it, and Keith got his Nyquil, so it was a trip well served. So Keith gets in the car and decides he doesn't want to drive so I tried. Apparently, driving standard is very different car-to-car. I drove it like my civic and stalled it instantly. His clutch has to be floored at all times and you can't let it up without giving it more gas, but after some terrible car joltings reminiscent of bad first-time standard drivers, I figured it out more or less and I had fun, and Keith's car is fine. We'll see if I get asked to drive again though. Hehe.
I have a mere two classes tomorrow but one has the unfortunate circumstance of being at 920 in the AM so I should probably get my eyes closed, not to mention my typing is audible across the 5ft distance to a sleep-striving boy. He was sleeping today though from 3 until 6 though so I don't know what his deal is. It was kind of annoying since I came back and wanted to play(blast) some music and my headphones continue to be recoverable only in my memory and nowhere in the material world.
And before I sign off, I recall one more thing that bugs the hell outta my innards/me. While I was at dinner, everyone in our suite got delivered a letter saying we had to make it to a meeting. This letter, I'll have you know, is the most ambiguous piece of shit ever. The actual wording says, "Staff has expressed some concerns with me about some issues in your suite..." and she wants to speak with us as a group about "these concerns." Well, nobody in our suite has any clue what concerns she speaks of, and the absolute vagueness it brings leaves me pissed-off and curious. Now normally, if you were to ask me to list feelings that went along with pissed-off, I wouldn't name curious, but in this situation that's how I feel, leaning far more towards angry, however. What did we do? What did we do that separates us from every other suite and now we have to go to a meeting to talk about this something that we don't know. This is fucking unfair as we're told to march into a meeting with no idea what we've done, just that something we don't know about is bad and somebody else has to talk to us about us because they care so very fucking much. Frankly, I'm not so sure I like they're grand idea to give us a letter telling us to be at a meeting without telling us what it is about. Aren't we allowed to be enlightened as to what this great issue with our suite is? Or must they spring it upon us as we sit, bewildered, in the office of Residence Life's chairs? I'm not one for surprises and hidden information when it comes to accusing us of some wrong-doing we know nothing about. Our RD, the one that gave us the letter, says she likes us and seems to, based on our last encounter with her due to a stupid noise violation, so approaching her about this mysterious "concern" might be within my capabilities, provided I can find her. And if, for some reason, I ask her and she continues to dance around us without telling the reason of meeting, I'm going to protest the meeting by means of not going. "Fuck that I'm not going to your stupid gay-ass meeting: I don't know anything about that."
And once more before I sign off: does it bother anybody else besides me when somebody, BOB!, channel surfs? A little bit I can understand, I mean, you're searching for a channel to watch. But this fuck0 flipped through the 50 something channels SIX times without stopping! What the FUCK!! And he kept passing up good things to watch! Now maybe, you might say, it's that he wasn't going to stop on a station I wanted to see, that bugs me. But no! Fuck no! I mean yes, sure I'd like to watch something I enjoy, but I certainly don't enjoy individual frames of channels for a second before it's gone. My brain just gets pissed off. Stay on a fucking channel. I don't care if it's golf or one of those stupid infomercials Bob loves to watch, but jesus: six times? Can't you realize after two times through that there's nothing that you want to watch? Turn the damn thing off and do something else you fat couch potato. Point to mention, I don't say these things at bob's face (though somebody not involved in daily interactions with him should), but he does it all the time, this...channel surfing! I can easily leave the room, though nothing else is going on at 10pm, but there I remain watching the channels flip by hundreds of times without pause, and I keep thinking he's going to stop at this very second, because I can't imagine how somebody can keep this up for so long. So I reach the point of breaking and quietly leave the room because now I'm just too god damn pissed off to watch TV in there anymore and I'd rather go sit in silence by myself, or cut myself with razor blades. I guess the moral of the story is that too much channel surfing causes me great anger and from now on, if I break and flip out at Bob I will add "channel-surfer" to the list of things I will call him. Well, I started typing at least by 12 and now it's 2 so I'm gunna let my anger I built up talking about such things dissipate into my dreams, and maybe I'll get to kill some people I don't like in them! Oh boy! I love dreaming. Peace

The Importance of Break

So the clock on this site is 3 hours slow unless i reset it each time. A pain in the ass if you ask me, but I'm too lazy to figure how to permanently fix it. So anyways, this weekend was amazing. Right from the start where Keith and I went to Geneseo to pick up Ben and meredith, it was good. Wednesday, I guess I slept in, and I did some cookin, and some cleanin like a good ol' fashioned housewife, minus the part where I'm a wife. Thursday, I slept till 10, did some picking up, children arrived and tried to beat me up to no avail, stuffed myself at 1, and passed out from the tryptophan until 6, then my memory gets shady to the point of no recollection.
Friday, I did some helpin and driving to get an interview, then got dropped off at Neal's and soon the gagne was there. So we played some kick-ass fun magic for a while. Gagne left early and neal and i were without car until we got his bro to drive us in his Lexus to Brian's. I hadn't been invited personally so I was kind of hesitant. Luckily, brian was jovial as hell and cleansed all feelings I had that he didn't like me, since he's gotten pissed at me a couple times previously. Brian's was awesome in that kleehammer, gagne, neal, hernandez and brian are awesome. We went up to brian's room and told drug stories much to everyone's delight. Excessive amounts of alcohol is bad for you apparently, and it makes you do stupid things. I was surprised how everyone did at least some experimenting with hazardous substances. Next, we all moved on to Jen's house at 7. Her house was pretty packed with awesome people. In fact, everyone was there that i wanted. That sentence took far too long to get properly: a result of quadruple negatives that confused me. That party was killer and i feel a better person because of it. I guess I felt like I performed at that thing and I aced my audition. The right crowd makes all the difference. For sure, I'm not a talkative person outside of my friends, but when i know and like everyone, it's a different story, and it's a whole lotta fun. Neal jumped in the lake and I got caught up on everyone's college stories. Furthermore, we played jenga and guestures and a game from the 60's involving strategy, a collapsing spring, and a multitude of circles of three sizes. Needless to say I need to thank Jen one more time for throwing an awesome party.
Restless nights of sleep have me thinking all night and i wish i could type at those hours. I'm not even in a writing mood right now, thus the shoddily structured sentences and brain malfunctions and blankings that occur that only my self can bear witness to.
So I'm returned to Alfred, i forgot my pillow, I have a full day of classes tomorrow and no doubt hw I forgot to do. And to put a cap on it all, josh left his xbox at home b/c he "needs to get more work done." As far as stories go of those who introduce their friend to an addicting drug then cut them off of their drug when they are most hooked go, this action seems one of the worst ones. Bob is being quiet and antisocial and his door is now closed. Everyone else is in nick and mark's room and I'm once again not entertained by maggie's annoyingness. And when mark did his "yay college" voice soon after i returned, I was quickly reminded how much i hate it. I'm getting sick of some of their jokes and it now pisses me off when they do stupid things all over again. Time to tough it out for another week i guess.

Back from Thanksgiving

I love break and I love women but what I love nearly as much as those is a buffalo chicken wrap. Except for just now b/c i could have sworn there was sand in my wrap. But it wasn't enough sand to throw it out, just enough to grind my teeth every so often, while being too sparse and tiny to be selectively picked out. So I've been sick the last couple days and had the worst sleep ever. And I would wake up with bruises for some reason, though I remembered where one of them came from today, but aside from that break was a total blast of amazingness to the maxx. Also I just came across a friggin sweet site overcompensating.com er sumptin like it(http://wigu.com/overcompensating/archive/2004_11_14_archive.html). hey here comes weedmaster P! what it is bitches. haha word. That's just too fitting of me. So now it's time to break it down.

Stupid...Blogger

Well Fuck that. Fuck fuck that. I spent the last hour writing in this god damn piece of shit internetty white space, hit publish and it fucked up. Gone. I'm not gunna rewrite all those thoughts, but damn, suffice it to say they were marvelous genius thoughts one can only generate at 5am. I hope those words find a magestic place in a heaven where words go when they're erased. They died so soon, before being revealed to the internet. Tear...Poor, innocent words.

Jibber jabber at 5am

For the love of Halo...

This weekend should hopefully kick ass since my dad's goin to philadelphia and I'll get to see gagne. I haven't yet talked to gagne to tell him so hopefully he won't be busy for the weekend. There are few people who simply thinking of seeing them brings me much joy, but gagne is one of them. Friggin halo 2...he says he's beaten it on legendary as of the first three days it came out which I find hard to believe since three shots kill you, but I guess it's possible. Anyway, I want to play Halo 2 for many hours with him and his college attendees and represent my college. I was playing yesterday and I felt the best I've ever felt with my skills. In 16 player games, I was coming in first consistently against the best players in Alfred. For sure, my sniping skills are at an all-time high. Head shots gallore, baby! And a bunch of people have the headsets now so they can talk and I can listen which is amazing. One time someone on my CTF team said, hold that jeep man, as I started to drive away, and I was impressed with how well it works. Plus people can say what kinds of games they want and how to make the teams fair. So, I don't yet know if I want to get Halo2 and Xbox and Xlive, but I'll be hard-pressed to go without it when I'm not at college. I have a lot of hw to do yet and two tests this week, so I should be concerned with those more than this weekend, but I'm not. I slept today from 11-4:45 so we'll see how tired I am and how much Halo people can manage tonight. I play under the name Tom Brokaw,the newsman, but I'm considering getting a funnier name to play under: a weak child, a crazy nigga, TooMuchSkool, the Dwad, avenging gods, your sins, the KKK, stuff of that nature so the screen says, "you were killed by a crazy nigga," or something of that nature, and the people would laugh in much the same way I laugh when people get killed or sniped by "a little girl." Anywho, time for dinner then karate and weightlifting.

My Friends Ruin Weekends

Josh and Brian were headed to Josh's house in Syracuse for the weekend I had been informed many times. When I returned from Thermo and Mat Sci on Friday I found everyone's door locked and Halo 2 and controllers taken. I realized that after a hard week I would have to face the weekend without Halo2. I went to bed at 7pm and woke up Saturday at 3pm with still nobody in my suite. The utter quietness propelled me into utter boredom and I ended up listening to depressing music, watching SB emails 1-50, and intermittently emailing strongbad in hopes one would get answered. Eventually, at 9 I mustered up the gusto to knock on Killian's door and play my addiction. Soon, killian, sarah, and pat arrived and we moved up to my empty suite to play. I played like shit but it still felt good to be around others enjoying a game I love. We played in large games until 3pm when kil and sarah left, then I played campaign--dying repeatedly and laughing at my terrible and sad efforts, despite progressing. Finally, Pat and I played co-op and beat it on heroic, before finally getting to sleep at 7am. And so today everyone returned from Syracuse, jovial as hell having had a blast of a weekend together in syracuse adventuring. Simply put, I'm pissed. It makes me rethink whether I like my friends at all and whether I want another semester housed with them. They made plans to go to Syracuse for everyone but me and never told me they were even leaving. Imagine my joy when I found out they had all snuck off without giving me an invite. So I'm experimenting with not talking with them. So far I haven't said a word to them, only nods of the head, and nobody has noticed. I'm pissed. Noone at dinner said a word asking how I was or anything at all involving me; they simply could care less about me so I'm flipping the board. Game over for them; I'm creating my own game, I'm playing by myself, and nobody even noticed. I look at what I once considered the funniest people alive with hatred now, despising their laughter, their jokes, their walk, their faces, their existence. It's tough enough having to have a bad day every day of your life, living every day hoping the next won't be as bad, but to realize you don't like your friends and roommates is putting a hole in my shallow bucket and asking me to keep if full.

The Work Issue

Once again, I sit and read my textbook. And I reread my textbook. There is no understanding the 50+ pgs of text or notes necessary to do the hw. Once again, I have work due the next day with no idea how to do it: a result of my desire for fun in the present tense has put me here. There is noone I would ask who would help. My roommates are being stupid and rather than panicking over the hours and hours of hw they have yet to accomplish, they joke over how little it makes sense and why the class is so hard. What can I do now, with no tutor or person to decipher the hours and hours of drivel? Do the writers of my thermo book realize their efforts creating such a product have done nothing, nothing to help anybody, anybody, understand the subject? My desire to understand the subject and get the work done is great, but I cannot bother people I don't know to ask for help. Consequently, I stare and read and reread my textbook and notes hoping like a lottery ticket buyer that somehow it will click and everything will be fixed.

Trial 3

And so we enter Phase three of my efforts at blogging. Phase one lasted a year or so of daily publishings of my inner me not shared with anyone, because it helped just to write my life down. It was however met with catastrophe when I shared this with people and could no longer feel free to write what I felt knowing who would read it as such it was destroyed. Phase two was another blog intended to be poetry that didn't relate to me; just words that worked well together, but it was ended when I realized this wasn't fun. Trial three meets the dilemna of a balance between what i want to share with what i want to write, the second being the greater of the two. But new thoughts have me caring less and pissed off more to the point where i don't know if i care to hold strong to my old ideals.