unsympathetic.net

I suppose people have guessed by now that maybe I don’t read the most recent of novels. So far this summer I have tackled Metamorphoses, Frankenstein, and a fair few trashy romance novels. But, I haven’t tackled anything that’s been on a best sellers list at any time in the last year.

It should be no surprise then, that my most recently read book was written in 1803, and published in 1818. Jane Austen has to be my favorite English author of all time. Seriously. The dry wit, and the acute observation of human nature makes Austen one of the few authors where I have to read the books multiple times to get the full depth of what she’s writing. (more…)

Today is the one year anniversary for the Cancer Victim and You. If she had her way, they’d be married by this day next year. If he hadhis, they’d have broken up seven months ago. I suppose this is some sort of compromise, right?

(Appologies to You, who’s already heard this one.)

I had a decidedly odd conversation with my father today. He called the office, and I assumed he wanted to talk to my Mum. Really, he wanted to talk to me, which was good, since I was the one who anwered the phone. Following is the phone converstation, to the best of my recollection, along with the thoughts that ran through my head as it was occuring.

Dad: Hello Lisa.
Me: Hi Dad.
Dad: How old are you?
Me: My birthday was five days ago, and you’ve already forgot? 24
Dad: You don’t have medical coverage, do you?
Me: Yes, I do.
Dad: Through who?
Me: Work.
Dad: Through Linda?
Me: That’s who I work for. Yes.
Dad: Oh. So, if your medical coverage lapsed through me, it wouldn’t matter?
Me: No. I haven’t been covered under you since I was 20, and dropped out of school.
Dad: Okay then. I’ll see you when you get home.
Me: Okay. Bye.

It was just a wierd conversation. I actually have better medical coverage than my parents, which we’ve talked about before over dinner. It was just strange for him to call me up out of the blue to ask me about it.

I mentioned the converstion to my mum, and after thinking on it, I believe he got a letter from his HR department, or Kaiser, saying that I was no longer covered because I was 24, and that’s the cutoff age for when they won’t cover full-time students under their parents plans.

Very wierd. Although, perhaps being covered by him is why my coverage was so good. We’ll find out next time I go to the doctor, I suppose.

- “Different Names for the Same Place,” Plans: Death Cab for Cutie

I really dislike having to write things twice, and yet, this is the second time I’ve had to write this post. I suppose it means I shouldn’t be trying to write things on the fly.

Unfortunately, on-the-fly seems to be the only way I can get things done these days. It’s too hot to do any real work, and my mind is definitely mush. The bus broke down yesterday–overheated in 109f–and I had to wait for a ride to come save me from melting to death.

Even though I can’t write a real post, I can do a list, so I figure I’ll give you a list that covers the high points of the last week.

• My dog has a strange addiction to wool. I thought it was only knitters that were drawn to it, but in the last week, Honey has torn apart three skeins, and attacked a fourth. She’s also ripped to shreds one of Dustin’s baseball hats, which we’re pretty sure was a wool mix. I’ve had to hide my stash to keep her from it.
• I got some really good birthday presents. A stack of books from my wishlist, a pile of clothes picked out by my father, and a Sony Handycam from Dustin. Have I mentioned how much I love him, lately?
• Having gotten the Handycam on Thursday, I managed to loose the computer connector cord in two days. Now I have to buy another one before I can start editing the film Dustin took on Sunday.
• I saw Dustin four days in a row, which is more than I saw him in the entire last month. It was good because I love spending time with him, but it sucks now because I miss him more than I usually do.
• We spend most of Saturday swimming (You, me and Dustin), except when we went on a toy run to the store. Can I just say that Target, Toys’r'Us, and Wal-Mart have horrible pool toy selection. No thick funoodles, and no dive toys. We ended up with water balls to throw at each other.
• My sister gave me a burnt copy of a borrowed CD for my birthday. Which she keeps in her car. I love my sister.
• I finished KG’s knitted birthday present, which was a shocker for her. I’m still working on last years knitted present, which she might get next year.
• I finally finished the book I was reading, so I’m ready for the sixth book in the series. I don’t want to talk about it, though, because I don’t want it ruined for me.
• I’ve been working on a story, but the characters are trying to push each other out of the way to tell the story themselves. I’ve been beating them into submission, since I only want to hear Mia’s story on the first go round. The others will get their chance.

That’s all I have for now. My mom is recounting stories of reality TV, and I think I might loose my mind. Sigh. I hate reality TV.

Just so you know, this is the back up birthday post.

I know what you’re thinking. “What the hell is she talking about? Back up? Birthday? I don’t get it.”

Well, today is my birthday (yay, go me), and You was supposed to write a lovely birthday tribute to how wonderful I am. But, he plead off, claiming he couldn’t write anything good enough. I’m thinking it’s because he didn’t want to lie.

So, I’m 24 today, and when I was looking in the mirror this morning, I didn’t look any older. I didn’t feel any older, either, so I’m not sure how this aging thing is supposed to be working out. My mom says I look the same as I did at 18. Dustin thinks I look just like my senior portrait, which was taken at 16.

I guess I just won’t look 24 until I get the swath of gray hair that is so prevalent in our family. I’m actually shocked I don’t have gray hair now. My mom, my aunt and my cousins were all having to dye gray hair out at 20. But not me. I have like one gray hair in the middle of my head that I refuse to pluck out, because at least it means I’m not 18.

So, today will be spent being as selfish as possible. Which isn’t much different than usual, other than I won’t feel bad about it.

I had wanted to write about my “worst birthday ever” (1999), or the “best birthday present I ever got” (digital camera, 2004), or perhaps just random birthday stories that involve me (of course). However, any of these stories would have required me to actually write about them ahead of time, and since I was still holding out hope for a post from You, I screwed myself over.

Over all, I’m not sad to get older, although it seems weird to finally be this old. I never think about myself in terms of age, or other people, for that matter. But it seems so strange to be this old, when I’m still in college, still geeky beyond belief, and still not ready to grow up.

On a geeky-er note, the new theme is up and running, but not perfect. There will still be tweaks behind the scenes (and when I get the javascript working, it will be brilliant), but it was good enough to roll out for now. The pages will be updated soon, and I’ll direct your attention that way when they are.

Oh. And a podcast by the end of the week. I meant to do it today at work, but I forgot my microphone, so I’ll probably get it done tonight when everyone has gone to bed.

- “Hanging by a Moment,” No Name Face: Lifehouse

Just so you know, this is the back up birthday post.

I know what you’re thinking. “What the hell is she talking about? Back up? Birthday? I don’t get it.”

Well, today is my birthday (yay, go me), and You was supposed to write a lovely birthday tribute to how wonderful I am. But, he plead off, claiming he couldn’t write anything good enough. I’m thinking it’s because he didn’t want to lie.

So, I’m 24 today, and when I was looking in the mirror this morning, I didn’t look any older. I didn’t feel any older, either, so I’m not sure how this aging thing is supposed to be working out. My mom says I look the same as I did at 18. Dustin thinks I look just like my senior portrait, which was taken at 16.

I guess I just won’t look 24 until I get the swath of gray hair that is so prevalent in our family. I’m actually shocked I don’t have gray hair now. My mom, my aunt and my cousins were all having to dye gray hair out at 20. But not me. I have like one gray hair in the middle of my head that I refuse to pluck out, because at least it means I’m not 18.

So, today will be spent being as selfish as possible. Which isn’t much different than usual, other than I won’t feel bad about it.

I had wanted to write about my “worst birthday ever” (1999), or the “best birthday present I ever got” (digital camera, 2004), or perhaps just random birthday stories that involve me (of course). However, any of these stories would have required me to actually write about them ahead of time, and since I was still holding out hope for a post from You, I screwed myself over.

Over all, I’m not sad to get older, although it seems weird to finally be this old. I never think about myself in terms of age, or other people, for that matter. But it seems so strange to be this old, when I’m still in college, still geeky beyond belief, and still not ready to grow up.

On a geeky-er note, the new theme is up and running, but not perfect. There will still be tweaks behind the scenes (and when I get the javascript working, it will be brilliant), but it was good enough to roll out for now. The pages will be updated soon, and I’ll direct your attention that way when they are.

Oh. And a podcast by the end of the week. I meant to do it today at work, but I forgot my microphone, so I’ll probably get it done tonight when everyone has gone to bed.

- “Hanging by a Moment,” No Name Face: Lifehouse

Today is the day I’ve been waiting all summer for. Oddly enough, it isn’t my birthday.

No, today the college bookstore is releasing the book lists for the fall semester. I’ve been waiting since before the spring semester ended for the lists to be released. I could have spent all summer reading ahead.

I like to make things difficult for myself, and this semester is no exception. I’m taking three literature classes, with a required total of fourteen books. That’s not including Math and Nutrition, either.

If I had had the book list early, I would have read most of the novels over the summer. The anthologies, not so much, but definitely I would have finished the books.

I am looking forward to this semester, even if it’s a ton of reading I have to do. It should be less essays than last semester, and that’s all that really counts.

Thats all I have today. I’m off to buy books from Amazon. Hopefully the prices will be the same as if I bought used books. Or that I get a stack of money for my birthday later this week. I’m going to need it.

- “Where Can I Stab Myself In the Ears,” If Only You Were Lonely: Hawthorne Heights

Today is the day I’ve been waiting all summer for. Oddly enough, it isn’t my birthday.

No, today the college bookstore is releasing the book lists for the fall semester. I’ve been waiting since before the spring semester ended for the lists to be released. I could have spent all summer reading ahead.

I like to make things difficult for myself, and this semester is no exception. I’m taking three literature classes, with a required total of fourteen books. That’s not including Math and Nutrition, either.

If I had had the book list early, I would have read most of the novels over the summer. The anthologies, not so much, but definitely I would have finished the books.

I am looking forward to this semester, even if it’s a ton of reading I have to do. It should be less essays than last semester, and that’s all that really counts.

Thats all I have today. I’m off to buy books from Amazon. Hopefully the prices will be the same as if I bought used books. Or that I get a stack of money for my birthday later this week. I’m going to need it.

- “Where Can I Stab Myself In the Ears,” If Only You Were Lonely: Hawthorne Heights

The lack of a post yesterday is because I was out actually having fun. I took the day off from work (my Mum is letting me take it as a sick day, since I have so many more of those than vacation), and after a trip to the vet with Honey in the morning, I headed out to Marysville for a concert.

The Vans Warped Tour was out at the Sleeptrain Ampetheater¹, and K, her friend B, and I all headed out that way. The concert started at 12pm, but we didn’t leave the house until about 12:30 because they had a morning Math class to attend. We got there about 2pm, after stopping for lunch, and slow traffic on Highway 65.

The concert was hot and crowed, and oddly enough, not that much fun. There were about ten stages set up, usually two next to each other so that while one band was playing the other band would set up, so there was no lag time between sets. There were tons of vendors to wade through, and about 40+ bands playing, although none that I really knew. B was sick from the heat, as she had a horrible hangover, and the wind only picked up occasionally.

I don’t want it to sound like I didn’t have fun, I did, but it wasn’t the best time at a concert I’ve had. Wandering between stages was great, as you could always hear someone playing, but unless you had memorized the time and stage schedule, the odds of knowing who was playing on the stage in front of you were slim to none. So, while I had heard bands I wouldn’t mind hearing again, I have no idea who they were.

K got a ton of looks for her corset piercing on her side (we were all in swim tops and shorts), although she didn’t seem to notice at all. I suppose she’s used to the looks by now. However, she can’t really go into the pit like she used to because if she gets to the front, she can’t risk getting “rescued” by the security at the stage front. They’re likely to grab her side and yank on the ribbon, which would hurt like hell. After fighting her way back out of the pit for Rise Against, she didn’t bother trying to get in deep for Senses Fail.

By the way, when did people stop letting you out of the crowd? It used to be if you were in front, and needed to back out, people would move for you so that they can get closer after you’ve passed–after all, you’ve made a gap that needs to fill. But now, people get angry when you try to get out, and don’t want to move an inch. I just don’t understand what changed.

After watching a song or two from the band after Senses Fail (sorry, don’t know their name), we decided to head home, even though there were about four more bands to play on the main stages. On the way out the gates, a guy was selling concert compilation CDs, and the guy trying to buy one was a buck short. Since everyone needs a concert CD, I gave him a dollar and we headed on our way.

Driving back down 65, we were all thirsty as hell, so we stopped at the first gas station on the way home, the Chevron in Wheatland. When we got out of the car, B was flipping out about a guy who was pumping gas on the next island, because she had seen him at the concert and thought he had amazing tattoos. I explained to her that you always see people from the concert at the gas station as we headed into the convenience store, and as we pulled sodas from the cold case, a guy at the cash register called out “I want to buy those girls’ sodas, too.” We looked, and it was the guy I had given the dollar to. So he bought our sodas, flirted with B, and we were on our way. The best dollar spent, ever.

When I got home, I was exhausted, but not tired. I’m only sunburned on one part of my shoulder–B predicted our feet because we forgot to spray them with sunscreen–and still tired today. Good thing it’s Friday, and I have the weekend off.

- “One Eight Seven,” From the Depth of Dreams: Senses Fail

1. Previously known as the Autowest Ampetheater and the Sac Vally Ampetheater as well.[back]

The lack of a post yesterday is because I was out actually having fun. I took the day off from work (my Mum is letting me take it as a sick day, since I have so many more of those than vacation), and after a trip to the vet with Honey in the morning, I headed out to Marysville for a concert.

The Vans Warped Tour was out at the Sleeptrain Ampetheater¹, and K, her friend B, and I all headed out that way. The concert started at 12pm, but we didn’t leave the house until about 12:30 because they had a morning Math class to attend. We got there about 2pm, after stopping for lunch, and slow traffic on Highway 65.

The concert was hot and crowed, and oddly enough, not that much fun. There were about ten stages set up, usually two next to each other so that while one band was playing the other band would set up, so there was no lag time between sets. There were tons of vendors to wade through, and about 40+ bands playing, although none that I really knew. B was sick from the heat, as she had a horrible hangover, and the wind only picked up occasionally.

I don’t want it to sound like I didn’t have fun, I did, but it wasn’t the best time at a concert I’ve had. Wandering between stages was great, as you could always hear someone playing, but unless you had memorized the time and stage schedule, the odds of knowing who was playing on the stage in front of you were slim to none. So, while I had heard bands I wouldn’t mind hearing again, I have no idea who they were.

K got a ton of looks for her corset piercing on her side (we were all in swim tops and shorts), although she didn’t seem to notice at all. I suppose she’s used to the looks by now. However, she can’t really go into the pit like she used to because if she gets to the front, she can’t risk getting “rescued” by the security at the stage front. They’re likely to grab her side and yank on the ribbon, which would hurt like hell. After fighting her way back out of the pit for Rise Against, she didn’t bother trying to get in deep for Senses Fail.

By the way, when did people stop letting you out of the crowd? It used to be if you were in front, and needed to back out, people would move for you so that they can get closer after you’ve passed–after all, you’ve made a gap that needs to fill. But now, people get angry when you try to get out, and don’t want to move an inch. I just don’t understand what changed.

After watching a song or two from the band after Senses Fail (sorry, don’t know their name), we decided to head home, even though there were about four more bands to play on the main stages. On the way out the gates, a guy was selling concert compilation CDs, and the guy trying to buy one was a buck short. Since everyone needs a concert CD, I gave him a dollar and we headed on our way.

Driving back down 65, we were all thirsty as hell, so we stopped at the first gas station on the way home, the Chevron in Wheatland. When we got out of the car, B was flipping out about a guy who was pumping gas on the next island, because she had seen him at the concert and thought he had amazing tattoos. I explained to her that you always see people from the concert at the gas station as we headed into the convenience store, and as we pulled sodas from the cold case, a guy at the cash register called out “I want to buy those girls’ sodas, too.” We looked, and it was the guy I had given the dollar to. So he bought our sodas, flirted with B, and we were on our way. The best dollar spent, ever.

When I got home, I was exhausted, but not tired. I’m only sunburned on one part of my shoulder–B predicted our feet because we forgot to spray them with sunscreen–and still tired today. Good thing it’s Friday, and I have the weekend off.

- “One Eight Seven,” From the Depth of Dreams: Senses Fail

1. Previously known as the Autowest Ampetheater and the Sac Vally Ampetheater as well.[back]