I knew Dr. El-najjar was pretty cool, but man, he is awesome.
I went to his office today to ask him a simple question and I stayed for forty minutes.
"Your brothers sat right there" he said, when I came in and sat down.
"You will never regret being a teacher."
Thanks Dr. El-najjar. How on earth you know exactly what to say all the time just astounds me.
In case there are any hitchhiker's guide fans around here....
Eight hours of sleep after an extended period of very little sleep is quite possibly the best feeling ever.
Seems that Fall has finally decided to...well..fall. I really like autumn, it's probably my favorite of the seasons...it's the most pleasant, and the skies are the clearest, and the Taurids and Leonids make for some cool night sky action. I like wearing light jackets and driving around with the windows down and brushing leaves off my car...but most of all I like hoodies. I love hoodies. I think they are awesome. And I've bought a few new ones for this season so I can wander about campus in my lovely hooded sweatshirt with my hands in the big pocket on the front. But I do have one problem with it...I have never managed to figure out how to gracefully take off a hoodie. There I am sitting in class and I'll start to feel a little warm, so I decided to slip it off--I grab the bottom and pause...wait, i think, my shirt underneath will ride up, exposing the length of my (in my opinion, unflattering) tummy so I'll stop there...I think that if I take the sleeves off first then I can work it up with my arms on the inside and slip it off my head in one go...and a few seconds into this plan I discover my hand is still stuck in the sleeve (cursed limited range of movement!) and the neck is catching on my round head (I should have made sure the ties were loose! blast these ears!) and there's all sorts of unpleasantly cool air on my sides and stomach and when I finally wrench it off my head, gasping for breath, my hair has decided it didn't like this, oh no, static electricity, no no no, no thank you...and I'm sure one of these days in this desperate attempt to appear like I know what I'm doing rather than just pulling the damn thing off I'm going to end up strangling myself to death in a most improbable fashion...
Funnily enough, the first thing that occured to me today once I heard about the outcome of things was "Oh god, now they'll never shut up..."
Ha ha ha I made a videogame/election politics joke tie-in! I am the awesome.
I don't know if it's my desire for unity and balance or the serious OCD tendencies coming out, but when I see that map on the various news channels with all the states lighted either blue or red, I just fucking want to balance the color! It drives me insane; it makes my fingers tense and my teeth itch. I mean, I don't even care who wins, I just want there to be equal blue and red spaces! Or purple! Purple is nice as well. When I run for president my color is going to be purple. I'll totally upset the two party system. Yeah. Right after I win the Nobel prize, end world hunger, and marry Richard Feynman. Shut up! I have itchy teeth, dangit!
Today I played hooky from work...well I like to pretend I play hooky, even though I let people know a week in advance...but I played hooky from work (oh like you're such a badass) so that I could drive down to Berry and let the nice admissions people (which consist of like...two people) show me about campus...and I saw a total of maybe...seven students? Okay, that's a bit of a hyperbole there...I saw four people. But anyway, yeah, campus is very calm and nice, I really enjoyed it, and I think I've fallen in love, much to the chagrin of my pocket book...because the Georgia University System kind of takes a stance of "Fuck All" to transfer students...we all say "er, ah, can I have some money?" and they go "NOO! I'd rather give our money to freshman who will lose it after their first semester! It's a much better investment!" and I'll end up taking classes out of a boot...ah well...Stafford loan for me...
Sorry for the overuse of profanity here, but I've just watched Eddie Izzard's Dressed to Kill special again...and...I love him. Why didn't the BBC pick him for the new Doctor?? They are so moronic! STOP ARGUING WITH TOM BAKER. HE KNOWS ALL.
"The Green Eye of the Yellow God"
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town;
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the Yellow God forever gazes down.
He was known as "Mad Carew" by the subs at Khatmandu,
He was hotter than they felt inclined to tell;
But for all his foolish pranks, he was worshipped in the ranks,
And the Colonel's daughter smiled on him as well.
He had loved her all along, with a passion of the strong,
The fact that she loved him was plain to all.
She was nearly twenty-one and arrangements had begun
To celebrate her birthday with a ball.
He wrote to ask what present she would like from Mad Carew;
They met next day as he dismissed a squad;
And jestingly she told him then that nothing else would do
But the green eye of the little Yellow God.
On the night before the dance, Mad Carew seemed in a trance,
And they chaffed him as they puffed at their cigars;
But for once he failed to smile, and he sat alone awhile,
Then went out into the night beneath the stars.
He returned before the dawn, with his shirt and tunic torn,
And a gash across his temple dripping red;
He was patched up right away, and he slept through all the day,
And the Colonel's daughter watched beside his bed.
He woke at last and asked if they could send his tunic through;
She brought it, and he thanked her with a nod;
He bade her search the pocket saying, "That's from Mad Carew,"
And she found the little green eye of the god.
She upbraided poor Carew in the way that women do,
Though both her eyes were strangely hot and wet;
But she wouldn't take the stone and Mad Carew was left alone
With the jewel that he'd chanced his life to get.
When the ball was at its height, on that still and tropic night,
She thought of him and hastened to his room;
As she crossed the barrack square she could hear the dreamy air
Of a waltz tune softly stealing thro' the gloom.
His door was open wide, with silver moonlight shining through;
The place was wet and slipp'ry where she trod;
An ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Mad Carew,
'Twas the "Vengeance of the Little Yellow God."
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu
There's a little marble cross below the town;
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the Yellow God forever gazes down.
J. Milton Hayes