Hm. I should post again, or something. Important stuff first.
My dad got back from the hospital two days ago. Apparently it was a gallstone blocking some vital duct, but everything seems to be all better now. Or at least for the foreseeable future.
And now for the fun stuff.
1) Your jaw will drop open and you will henceforth refer to me in hushed and reverential tones. If you want me to send you an invite the next time one becomes available, you can start sending me money. Preferably in $50s or $100s.
2) You won't care. You already have one. You will also laugh at me because you had one first.
3) You will ask me "What on earth is GMail?" And I will realize you make a point of never following informational links. Like the one a little bit higher in my post.
4) You will ask me "What is email? Do I need a computer for it? Does a computer cost money?" At this point I will wonder what you think the thing you're using right now is.
5) You will regard me as having sold my soul to the Devil, and as only being slightly better than the Antichrist. The latter because I only have one GMail account. After all, everyone knows that Google is out to cross-reference and archive everyone's email, all over the planet, for their own nefarious purposes. Or at least to sell info to the highest bidder.
6) You don't have a clue this is here or that I even exist, and so won't be producing any reactions at all. How boring.
Mer. My dad's in the hospital up at Rochester again.
He hasn't been able to keep anything down since Sunday; not even water and his meds. They're doing a colonoscopy tomorrow, er, I mean today, and it looks like they'll take his gall bladder out on Friday. Or something. I don't think they're really sure what's going on yet.
Yay for Tuesdays.
I get out of the shower this morning, and the first thing I hear is Heather yelling "Ardith, come look at this!"
So I walk into the kitchen.
"There's water leaking under the sink somewhere."
By this time I'd noticed the small stream of water running from the now-open cabinet. After 10 seconds of looking under the sink, I pinpoint the problem.
"The drain pipe's coming apart at one of the seams. Notice the quarter-inch gap. Underneath the sink you're using."
And so I called the plumber. Again. Yay for Tuesdays.
I saw Uptown Girls tonight. Heather had rented it, and she fell asleep watching.
I didn't. I cried.
I'm really not sure why. Part of it was me realizing that I used to be sort of like that little girl. Not so uptight about hygiene, but I shut things out like that girl did. Things that don't make sense, that I can't control or fix. Things that hurt.
But I'm like the rich girl who becomes the little girl's nanny, too. I'm scared. I'm scared of being grown up, I guess. Scared of having to do everything. I know I can do everything I need to. But that doesn't make me any less scared.
And part of it was, well... one father was dead, and the other died halfway through the movie. That didn't help my emotional status at all.
It's not the best movie ever. But there aren't many movies that make me cry like that any more.
I had the weirdest dream ever last night. I dreamed I was watching a 'B' movie. You know, one of those horror/sci-fi flicks with an evil/mad scientist and all. In black and white. And I knew how it had to end halfway through.
See, there was this mad scientist. He created these intelligent little critters, which were supposed to look like humans, but instead looked like puppets. And given the movie, they probably were. These things were somehow vegetable-based. By which I mean that they belonged to the vegetable kingdom, and not the animal kingdom. However, they had one flaw. They needed some nutrient or something which was only present in human beings. Can you see where this is going yet?
Of course, the vege-people know this innately, but the scientist doesn't find out until it's too late. And then he promptly gets his life slurped out of him. Meanwhile, next door...
*insert ominous music here*
There were a bunch of people busily preparing for a Rube Goldberg contest. Which was going to be judged by Rube Goldberg himself, no less. Strangely enough, there were no signs of wacky inventions, but there were lots of people running around in various garden-like localities, getting slurped by the evil vege-people. Of course, this is where I realize: "They can't all die, someone has to escape and tell the army so they can drop a nuke on the town."
Which of course happens. One lucky girl escapes, is picked up by a dogsled team, and is taken up north over the border to some town on the Canadian west coast. I have distinct images of a map showing sled tracks from somewhere in northern Idaho to this aforementioned Canadian town.
The next scene is of the Mounties trying to convince the US government that America is in dire straits, and they need to drop a nuke on the little town which the vege-people are currently rampaging through. Shift to Some Place in Washington D.C., with everyone being extremely skeptical, and one man who happens to come from the little Idahoan town calling home to see what's up. Apparently they have videophones, because next we see a picture (apparently from Idaho) of a very large plant sprouting up and taking over the Earth with a voice in the background saying something about overthrowing Democracy. Because that is what all vege-people long to do. The Very Important People are immediately convinced there is trouble afoot.
The last scene I remember is of the helicopter carrying the nuke to Idaho.
No, I don't know why it was a helicopter.
And then I woke up.
I saw this. And I was very amused. And then I bookmarked it for future reference.
Since when has it ever been considered good form to require an online exam be completed between 6:30pm on Friday and 12:00 noon on Saturday?
I object to this course of action in a very strenuous manner. It forces me to do schoolwork at the beginning of the weekend.
Why? Why is that I am most inspired at 1:30 in the morning when I'm trying to sleep?
Oh, well. Here's tonight's installment of insanity:
Ardith's History of the Future: A Timeline of the Next 50 Years
This work is a result of vast amounts of research, from the far corners of the galaxy. A few alternate universes were also consulted.
2010: Bill Gates invests $20 billion in interstellar space travel research. The Let's Not Bother The Aliens Organization (LNBTAO) starts riots in large population centers. Violence ensues.
2020: The first ships reach Alpha Centauri. A planet is found there, with a strange computerized artifact which bears the name "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" and the words "Do Not Panic" in large letters on its cover. Upon reaching Earth, the artifact self-destructs. A small puppy is determined to have suffered emotional distress as a result.
2030: Large black monoliths appear from nowhere, reproduce themselves over the surface of Jupiter, and ignite it into a mini-sun which is promptly given the name Lucifer. Unfortunately, they are twenty years late and nobody cares.
2040: Intelligent robots are invented. Due to pay cuts, somebody forgets to invent the First Law of Robotics. The robots take over the Earth. Everyone moves to the planet circling Alpha Centauri.
2050: Strange energy beings called the Drej come and blow up Earth for being too technologically advanced. However, they are 978 years too early, and in the wrong parallel universe to boot. They blow up all the robots. Humanity rejoices.
And there you have it, the next 50 years in a nutshell. Looks to be an exciting half-century.
Ack. Must post. Mental block for writing book report is horrible.
For starters, I typed a little over 10 pages of notes to hand in to Dr. Hood tomorrow before my test. That's 10 pages typed. Handwritten, there were 20 pages. For three days of classes. If it weren't for the fact that I'm already certifiably bonkers, I'd swear I was heading that way. At about 85 MPH, no less.
I should also not be allowed on online forums. I probably made close to 50 posts on Metnal today. And people wonder where I get all my crazy ideas from. It's all their fault, I swear!
*points accusing finger*
Er, maybe not. But somehow, online communication tends to bring out my more random side. As does writing things to keep awake in certain CS classes. For that matter, just about all my writing-for-fun brings out my random side. I wonder why this is? Maybe it's the relative lack of inhibition.
That reminds me. I have to update my links on the side one of these days. They sadly need the Ardith Creative Touch (TM). And I have a few more I'm planning to put up, too. Actually, given the proper incentive, I'll probably overhaul the whole site again.
And now that I've said this, I've ensured I won't do a single thing about it for probably the next few months. Because I'm just lazy like that. *grin*
*goes through sudden sugar withdrawal*
*makes butter and jelly sandwich*
*with lots of jelly*
*on white bread*
*makes another one*
Where was I?
Oh, right. Randomness.
I only have one more page to write, and then I'm all done. Goodnight, everyone.
Much as I usually resist posting the results of online quizzes I take, Wheeler did go to all the trouble of making this one.
And thus, my results:
Funny how that works, eh?
Yeah, I know. Posting frequency is down of late. Not all that much has happened, and yet I don't seem to have any time. This is probably due to my two-week class. But that'll be over on Wednesday, and then I'm heading to the library to check out my full quota of science fiction.
I like libraries. Libraries are nice.
Books are nice too.
*mind wanders off*
Oh, right. Sorry 'bout that. In Other News, I got comment-spammed again. I suppose this means I'm going to have to break down and do something about it one of these days.
Oh, well. Such is my life. It seems to consist of me having to do things.