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chibi_trillianLady Anu has found a new apartment. Apartment is an understatement, actually, it's a house. It's cheaper than what ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
plotbunny_tiff and I are paying in rent and much, much bigger. It's also a bit of a fixer-upper, but I think that can be handled. Yay, Lady Anu!
I am under orders fromplotbunny_tiff to stay off my foot today. Naturally, it's a glorious day. Fooie. I betcha I could limp down to the store and back before she notices I'm gone. It's not like we have food or anything, and I'm hungry. There is an approximate 2:1 booze-to-edibles ratio in our fridge, and most of the edibles are potential ingredients for things that we don't have all the stuff for.
I spent last night playing shot chess with Steve. I actually won, which stunned the hell out of me. On the upside, I got so drunk that my toe didn't hurt anymore. On the downside, I also managed to get so drunk that I passed out on the couch, because I tend to play sacrifice chess. I woke up with a crick in my neck around 8 am, took a shower, and went to bed for real.
I need to pull a top-to-bottom cleaning on this apartment before finals week--I am not having my relatives walk into the paper tornado that is my apartment. I may actually have to throw some of my notes out. Or maybe give into OCD impulses and organize them into folders and keep them in my filing cabinet. I can't bear to part with written knowledge that I might need at some point in the future, hence me having notes from high school with me.
I hope my toe is just really really really badly bruised and jammed and fucked up and not actually broken, because I remembered yesterday what happened a few days after I broke my finger when the swelling went down and it finally started healing. I wanted to cut my damn finger off, it hurt so much. I took so much ibuprofen over the course of a week that I sensitized my stomach to it and can't take it anymore. I don't want to do that again! T_T
I heard a song yesterday that made me feel really old. It's been a creeping sensation, starting off with the "Holy crap, my childhood is retro" trend that's been floating about lately. I got worse when I realized that a lot of the people in Hot Topic buying My Little Pony and Rainbow Brite and Carebears stuff weren't old enough to have been alive when they first came out. My friends and I stand in front of a Carebears display and go, "When I was little, I had (X Carebear)." I had Wish Bear, myself. And then some little thirteen-year-old will push past us and go "OMG these r sooooo cute!!!!!1111!1" and the abrupt realization that this kid never owned one of these hits. She does not remember the TV show that went with it; she was a toddler when I was in middle school. Twin waterfalls of tears ensue, along with the urge to beat the thirteen-year-old to death.
We remember stuff that's retro. We remember when there wasn't an internet. We remember when a 56k modem was beyond kickass, and we couldn't imagine anyone wanting anything faster. We remember when the "hold your breath" rule of webpage building still applied, when "image intensive" warnings were obligatory. We remember when Hackers was relevant and cutting-edge. We remember waiting twenty minutes to sign onto AOL because their servers were so overloaded. We remember when everything on the internet was free, when bandwidth was an irrelevant consideration for picking a hosting service, when you had to know HTML to build a webpage, when spyware was unheard of. We remember the days before Napster.
We remember when you had to boot your computer from a floppy disk. We remember when you had to know DOS commands to do anything on a computer. We remember when a gigabyte of space was a disgustingly large hard drive. We remember when the Super Nintendo's main selling point was its excellent graphics. Some of my friends actually owned Ataris when they came out, and get mad when they see someone wearing a "Nintendo Old Skool" t-shirt who wasn't old enough to pick up a controller when the original NES was out.
I've had the same e-mail address since I was fourteen. My fucking e-mail address is older than some of the people on the internet now.
I feel so old.
plotbunny_tiff and I are paying in rent and much, much bigger. It's also a bit of a fixer-upper, but I think that can be handled. Yay, Lady Anu!I am under orders from
plotbunny_tiff to stay off my foot today. Naturally, it's a glorious day. Fooie. I betcha I could limp down to the store and back before she notices I'm gone. It's not like we have food or anything, and I'm hungry. There is an approximate 2:1 booze-to-edibles ratio in our fridge, and most of the edibles are potential ingredients for things that we don't have all the stuff for.I spent last night playing shot chess with Steve. I actually won, which stunned the hell out of me. On the upside, I got so drunk that my toe didn't hurt anymore. On the downside, I also managed to get so drunk that I passed out on the couch, because I tend to play sacrifice chess. I woke up with a crick in my neck around 8 am, took a shower, and went to bed for real.
I need to pull a top-to-bottom cleaning on this apartment before finals week--I am not having my relatives walk into the paper tornado that is my apartment. I may actually have to throw some of my notes out. Or maybe give into OCD impulses and organize them into folders and keep them in my filing cabinet. I can't bear to part with written knowledge that I might need at some point in the future, hence me having notes from high school with me.
I hope my toe is just really really really badly bruised and jammed and fucked up and not actually broken, because I remembered yesterday what happened a few days after I broke my finger when the swelling went down and it finally started healing. I wanted to cut my damn finger off, it hurt so much. I took so much ibuprofen over the course of a week that I sensitized my stomach to it and can't take it anymore. I don't want to do that again! T_T
I heard a song yesterday that made me feel really old. It's been a creeping sensation, starting off with the "Holy crap, my childhood is retro" trend that's been floating about lately. I got worse when I realized that a lot of the people in Hot Topic buying My Little Pony and Rainbow Brite and Carebears stuff weren't old enough to have been alive when they first came out. My friends and I stand in front of a Carebears display and go, "When I was little, I had (X Carebear)." I had Wish Bear, myself. And then some little thirteen-year-old will push past us and go "OMG these r sooooo cute!!!!!1111!1" and the abrupt realization that this kid never owned one of these hits. She does not remember the TV show that went with it; she was a toddler when I was in middle school. Twin waterfalls of tears ensue, along with the urge to beat the thirteen-year-old to death.
We remember stuff that's retro. We remember when there wasn't an internet. We remember when a 56k modem was beyond kickass, and we couldn't imagine anyone wanting anything faster. We remember when the "hold your breath" rule of webpage building still applied, when "image intensive" warnings were obligatory. We remember when Hackers was relevant and cutting-edge. We remember waiting twenty minutes to sign onto AOL because their servers were so overloaded. We remember when everything on the internet was free, when bandwidth was an irrelevant consideration for picking a hosting service, when you had to know HTML to build a webpage, when spyware was unheard of. We remember the days before Napster.
We remember when you had to boot your computer from a floppy disk. We remember when you had to know DOS commands to do anything on a computer. We remember when a gigabyte of space was a disgustingly large hard drive. We remember when the Super Nintendo's main selling point was its excellent graphics. Some of my friends actually owned Ataris when they came out, and get mad when they see someone wearing a "Nintendo Old Skool" t-shirt who wasn't old enough to pick up a controller when the original NES was out.
I've had the same e-mail address since I was fourteen. My fucking e-mail address is older than some of the people on the internet now.
I feel so old.
