I’m happy to report that my speech-recognition program is back up and running. It’s never the speech-recognition program itself that dies, it’s Parallels Desktop, my virtual machine application, that is finicky.
I really wanted to write last night, so I just had to suck it up and Advil my way through a post. But today, by a combination of the new version of Parallels and this souped-up, stripped down install of windows that I learned about yesterday so now I have a slick, voice-recognition machine.
I’m just rather excited today. The panel in my human sexuality class went swimmingly. I was so surprised. It was me, Christen, and this other really cool girl up there. When I get really stressed out, and that making a lot of jokes, and I made a class bust up a few times. I love the things I come up with when I’m stressed. “…it ended up being this love tetrahedron” was one of my favorites.
A lot of the girls were really interested in the fact that my last ex was dating a girl now. Christen had some really cool things to say about discrimination and such. I felt really good afterwards… it was the sort of soul bearing that I do daily in my blog, but literally to an audience.
I’ve been getting a really strong urge to play Diablo II again, but I know that I shouldn’t. My wrists hurt already. I just hate not having a fantasy life anymore. I need to start writing again. I’m just really afraid of being called ridiculous. The first two chapters of the sci-fi novel I wrote when I was in high school are laughable when I read them now, but I love certain descriptions and sentences that took me months come up with. Me and Kelly work going to try to stimulate each other to write by posting short stories in this blog, but that didn’t really work. I need to take another creative writing class.
It makes you feel validated, when your story is the least ridiculous of the lot. And even if it is ridiculous, it’s good when yours is one of the best written. I keep flashing back to my creative writing class. There was this one story where the writer only identified any of the characters by their hair color. No other details were provided about what they looked like. It was the most horrible story I had ever read. Well, with the obvious exception of the one by Angela Guthrie *shudder*.
My damn chair broke today. It was one of those five dollar IKEA ones, and I was sort of, um, trying to recline in a non-reclining plastic chair, so I can’t say I’m surprised, but I have to go and get a new one home somehow. I’ll have to bungee cord it to my back, lol.
This stupid thing kills my back. I should go out and do something. Some dance dance revolution seems to be in order. I’ve been rocking out to this retarded song by Junior Senior all day. It’s so damn catchy, though.
I’ve been thinking a bit more about what happened with Adrian. Even though it was what I wanted, the moral implications of the situation were a recapitulation of why we could never be in a long-term relationship.
Me and Christen were talking about the similarities in what happened a few days ago and what happened to Christen when her uber ex Chris visited a month or so. We were talking about all of the bitchy girls that would leave comments on Chris’s profile hating Christen for dating him. I’m sure everyone that dated him thought they had some kind of special connection with him. And, I mean, I guess it’s true, if they dated… but what is so “special” about a relationship? Is it your inside jokes? Is it your memories? Is it sexual compatibility?
Well, I’m off to go do something athletic. Haven’t decided between DDR and a jog.