Madlib

My brother is eating Skittles he found in his car after leaving said car out in the sun without use for a week. Do Skittles go bad? Can they lose their yummy goodness?

So apparently I'm back from my vacation. Yeah, I went to visit my dad and I ended up paying $113 in parking fees at the airport. Woo, yeah. Great. No seriously, I had fun with my dad and brother. We went to see Star Trek and Wolverine, walked around the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica, found an amazing singer named Clare Means playing out on the street with her guitar, bought some new jeans, scarf, and two tank tops from American Eagle. It seems like their jeans are the only ones that fit me properly, I've noticed. My brother also introduced me to the hit show Chuck, which has pretty much everything genre-wise and is thoroughly awesome.

I also re-watched one of my favorite movies, Ghost Town, in order to let my brother and dad watch it, too. I love that movie. It has a really great story and is totally hilarious in an awkward kind of way. My favorite kind, you know.

Speaking of awkward, my dad introduced his wannabe girlfriend to me. I say wannabe because she's English and she's moving back to London in three weeks after living in LA for 10 years, and they're totally not going to do a long distance relationship. Anyway, about the awkward part of it, the woman is very hard to describe personality wise, outside of crazy in a mild kind of way, and she was just telling stories from her life with details that seemed like she pulled them randomly from a hat, like a madlib. I would love to recreate one of the stories but they were so interwoven and hilariously random that I could hardly do so.

Side note, I got straight B's in my classes. I'm thrilled about two of those classes; I was hardly trying as much as I should have in one of them, and the other was so ridiculously ludicrous in its difficulty that I'm so glad I didn't simply just pass somehow. In the last class however I think I could have done better, but I'm sure it was the homework grades that brought me down since they were weighed as much as the final exam. Sucks. I often end up doing better on exams than on homeworks because I usually learn better through mistakes, you see.

Well, I got up at 5:40 this morning to get ready to go to the airport and I have an eight hour shift at work today until 10:00 at night so I'll be pretty exhausted today. Hence my abrupt departure. Now.

Creating Wounds to Heal

I have a series of complaints I wish to complain about having in the first place, but I know you wouldn't appreciate it, so I've decided to refrain. Lucky duck.

In other news, not that the above was news at all, this is finals week. Hence, I'm almost done with classes. Hence, it's almost time for vacation. Hence, I shall soon see my dear ol' dad and my ol' big brother. But unfortunately, things must look down before they can look up.

ie. This has officially been the worst semester ever.

The Agenda:

1.) 2nd semester Modern Algebra. No, this algebra is not high school algebra as you may (or may not) know it. Modern algebra is pretty much pure nonsense in abstract terms. That's about as far as I'll go into that. Exams-wise, in this class I have a third midterm (a take-home exam) due on the day of its final exam. Now, that's just mean.

2.) 1st semester Real Analysis. This class basically covers what would be gone over in high school algebra up through pre-calculus, but instead of just calculating what the values may be, we must prove why that is the value that it ought to be in the first place. Exams-wise, this final exam is to be taken 15 minutes following the modern algebra final. Now, that's bogus.

3.) Complex Analysis. Ever heard of complex numbers? Those are the numbers you get when you have that imaginary number i, equalling the square root of -1. Unfortunately, you can't use the same rules as real numbers when you're talking about complex numbers, so we had a semester to learn algebra, geometry, and a bunch of other nonsense pertaining to complex numbers. I think this could have been a fun class if the teacher wasn't so heinous. Luckily, the take-home final was due yesterday, and this class is over and done for. Thank goodness.

Once this semester is over, all I'll have left for my math major are two classes. Two more math classes, and then I can graduate next spring. I'm excited to get it all over with.

Yeah, hi. My car just 'sploded?

I'd say that after having to deal with the rebellious nature of my car for two years, I deserve a new car. That's right, kids, I'm going car shopping. Luckily, I've got a mom who knows how to haggle down prices and a stepdad that knows when I'm being fooled. I like those small hatchbacks, so I've narrowed it down to these:

Toyota Yaris:


Nissan Versa:

I'm rather excited about the whole prospect. This old car of mine has served its time. Actually, it's probably the other way around: I've served my time.

The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world.

Some random guy on DeviantART found me and headed to my facebook, proceeding in a monologue that was hilariously satirical and flattering. Apparently he goes to the same school as me, too? Here's some snippets:

"If word were to get out that there are math majors that can actually draw and speak coherently others will become jealous. Jealously tends to lead to violence and infighting, something we cannot allow."

"Lastly there is the issue of fairness. Throughout most of our lives we have been taught the rules of fair play. How can it possibly be fair to have one person be good at art and math? That may be breaking some of the laws of physics.... People are either left brain dominate or right brain dominate, you cannot choose to be simply dominate...."

LOL. DOMINATION.

The Great Escape

I had a dream about this guy I like; we were with a group of people and sitting on the floor cuddling. It was rather nice. In another "scene" we were in the front row of some sort of theater sitting beside each other and some bloke comes up and sits on the edge of my seat and starts harrassing me. So my dream guy gets up and starts beating him up. Oh, chivalry.

So when I went out with him, the word "Finally!" was screaming in my head. He even gave me a rather chaste kiss at the edge of my lips. It was rather blissful, just being with him. You could imagine how disappointed I was when I woke up.

Yeah, a second dream, the day after the first. God. My subconscious will be the death of me.