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Monday, August 14th, 2006
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7:22 pm - Why I was born 28 years too late.
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| Wednesday, January 11th, 2006
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3:20 pm - Rickoids are INTELligent
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Congrats to Benecke, ZeNan, Bretty511, Winston, Chocolitt, Lisa, Frederick Newton McCollum (!!!), Vinny, Jeff, Pizer, Raj (hey, I didn't know your middle name was Gautam), Sukrit, Ian, Peter, Kim, Justin, Yi, Toan, Ameya, Gen, and Luyi!
It's Rickoid Power Hour, plus the extra half hour that I missed before!
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(4 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, January 5th, 2006
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9:31 pm - When you're about to be tagged, you usually run
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| Monday, January 2nd, 2006
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11:53 pm - From a random MITES Xanga
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'"RSI: Relaxing and Sleeping Immigrants" -Lorenzo'
'"RSI: Retarded Scientific Idiots."-Dayanna'
And to think we let them dance the "Flamenco" in our talent show. Ohhhh, the treachery.
current mood: I will not sink to their level
current music: But I am sorrrrrrely tempted
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(7 comments | comment on this)
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11:44 pm - Petal Fresh Pure
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Word on the street is that it's 2006. Hip hip hooray!
I'm not quite sure what to do with myself, besides singing "I just don't know what to do with myself." Holidays should be replace with Let'sDoSomethingdays, because this whole holidays business is completely overrated.
Jesse? Meg? Mikaela? Taylor? Emma? Can we be friends? Again? I think I'll keel over if we don't have another Bollywood party soon. Not to mention the fact that my brain is dissolving into a puddle of never-ending football games and Govind's graduate school applications. What if? What if? What if? What if I could actually find something to do with myself right now that equaled productiveness?
I.
Don't.
Know.
current mood: Stanford is far, far away
current music: How much does that suck?
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, December 15th, 2005
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6:37 pm - Freaking Door Yes!
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| Monday, December 12th, 2005
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8:54 pm - Matt McGann is Sexy
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To everyone who has ever been stressed out about ANYTHING scholastic. Read this--especially during "Waiting Weekend," if ya know what I mean.
It makes me happy, or at least marginally less stressed.
current mood:  drained
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, December 7th, 2005
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12:57 pm - Ice Skating on the roof of Whole Foods? What?
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| Thursday, December 1st, 2005
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1:19 am - And you thought your life was normal...
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Well, I think that all these years you were just waiting for this( gasp ).
No. I'm serious. You guys don't want to miss this.
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(comment on this)
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| Sunday, October 30th, 2005
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8:57 pm - Little grey button of my heart
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The button has been clicked. "Submission Completed" has been shown. I have keeled over. Good night.
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(7 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, October 28th, 2005
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11:12 pm - Did somebody say "Pie?"
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| Friday, October 7th, 2005
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11:18 am - 57 degrees of beauty
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Mmmm, I love the cold. Everything smells like coffee and tangerine lip gloss. I feel like just standing somewhere with my hands in my coat pockets and soaking in lots and lots of cold to make up for the summer. The pomegranates on our tree have turned a brilliant, biting red that matches perfectly with the gray sky. I get to fall in love with scarves and gloves and toe-socks and little Jesse-knitted cat hats again. Time to go play in the snow.
current mood:  chipper
current music: Une Annie Sans Lumiere-The Arcade Arcade Fire Fire
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(14 comments | comment on this)
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| Sunday, October 2nd, 2005
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10:23 pm - Every time you close your eyes
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Go on hide your lovers
Underneath the covers.
current mood:  cynical
current music: Hide them from your brothers underneath the covers
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(6 comments | comment on this)
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| Sunday, September 18th, 2005
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3:56 pm - As featured on YouthSpin--Youth radio that spins you right round!
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To all my beautiful nerds, this one's for you:
RSI. Those three letters together could mean any number of things: Rapid Sequence Induction, Relative Strength Index, Repetitive Strain Injury, or …Research Science Institute.
The Research Science Institute is a six-week long summer program where rising seniors complete research projects at some of the top institutions in the United States. The 22nd Annual RSI was held this summer at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Its 88 participants did research in all realms of science and math at such highbrow institutions as Harvard, Boston University, and NorthEastern. The perfect, dry, sterile nerd hatchery, right? Wrong to the nth power.
Imagine 88 high schoolers thrown into one of MIT's most otherworldly dorms in the middle of summer, given a research project du jour, and sent off onto the numerous college campuses of Boston to leave their mark. I was one of those 88, as inexperienced and nervous as the worst of them, in my first foray into the world of dormitories and meal plans. It was like some sort of wormhole into that enigmatic otherworld of College Life. I had to wash my own clothes, clean my own bathroom; I even had to buy my own frozen burritos at the student grocery store to fulfill those late night hunger pangs. We rode the subway or bus to work every morning, nursing laptops and cups of coffee like apprentice entrepreneurs. We went to lectures, wrote papers, and gave presentations. We worked hard. But we played harder.
It was every night, when the last of the 88 had stepped was back into the dorm and each laptop was on hibernate and carefully stowed under tomorrow’s laundry, that RSI became something beyond the college primer. A 6-foot square crossword was taped to the wall of one of the lounges, impromptu dance sessions were held in the lobby, and students could be found riding rolling chairs down the ramps of MIT’s basements at ungodly hours of the morning. Outings were made to see performances of Shakespeare in the famous Boston Commons, to drink exotic bubble tea in Boston’s Chinatown, even to see the decidedly sketchy Rocky Horror Picture show.
While “Let’s do the timewarp again” definitely did not become the theme song of RSI, there was no doubt that “work hard” and “hardly work” walked hand in hand for me this summer. I now know how to typeset the integral of e to the x in LaTeX code, but I think I’ll remember how to do the pelvic thrust for far longer. The 22nd Research Science Institute’s catchphrase sums it up perfectly: “RSI…it’s people.”
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(6 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, September 9th, 2005
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11:59 am - American Red Cross 1 800 HELP NOW
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Ah, my poor, lonely livejournal. How I have deserted you. I'm so sorry.
My life has been engulfed in an ocean of college. Whether it be applications or classes or or or general existential angst. As the most brilliant Jesse&StephenShow pointed out, I must soon walk across the graduation stage without even once asking "Why?"
But enough of such pointless blather. Who needs college, anyway? It's a load of bollocks is what it is. Bloody hell.
I'm steeling myself for another semester of JonSydneyWatson-induced madness this semester, as the Zach Scott Jr. Troupe performs their rendition of King Shit. I'm not even kidding. Or maybe it will be a rendition of Whoever Enchained, but either way it's going to be positively batty. Eight hours of pure, unadulterated sin that will rapidly consume my existence. I can't wait.
In other news, I volunteered at the shelter for Katrina victims on Monday. It was a really incredible experience. I can't believe how strong these people are.
There is, indeed, much much more to educate my loyal nonreaders about...involving such things as umbrellas, 6-week long summer programs, packages, red roses, etc. etc., but that shall all have to wait for a later date.
With much love,
Your Paper Tiger
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, February 23rd, 2005
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10:13 pm - Why Disney is not the shiznit...
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...because we are
Just Around The Bathroom Door (dedicated to all JCs)
What I hate most about Windex it
You have to scrub the same window twice
The smudges are always changing always growing
The Bissell, oh yes, is just as bad
And we all must pay the price
But it’s better than the chance of ever knowing
What’s around the bathroom door
Waiting just around the bathroom door
I look once more
Just around the bathroom door
Upon the floor
Something quite disgusting
Oh look, there’s more
I think that it’s alive, I’m sure
Just around the bathroom door
Poor me,
It’s coming for me
I see it as I start to sneeze
It’s right behind that toilet stall
Can I ignore that sound of children running
For their gogurts and their gushers
Which they’ll smash upon the floor
Quick, pick up the pillow, I think they’re coming
Just around the bathroom door
Just around the bathroom door
I look once more
Just around the bathroom door
Upon the floor
Something quite disgusting
Oh look, there’s more
I think that it’s alive, I’m sure
Just around the bathroom door
Poor me,
It’s coming for me
Should I hose that trash can out?
Something’s molding at the bottom
Should I marry Kocoum?
Is all my cleaning at an end?
Or do you still wait for me, Dear Alfred
Just around the bathroom door.
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Monday, February 21st, 2005
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10:57 pm - How all wines should be described
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Emperor of the Best Ever
"a hearty wine, subtle, if overconfident, with cactus, elderberries, and truffles in the nose- jogs well, in a triangular way. in short- a melodic wine with a perfect pitch."
-anonymous brilliance
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Sunday, February 20th, 2005
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4:59 pm
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I noticed that I tend to post very sporadically and about random and disparate things. Does anyone know how to correctly use a comma? I hate how they break up my thoughts in all the wrong places. Seriously, people. What is with, this whole comma, thing? Surely, they could have come up with a different form of punctuation *cough;cough* to replace this bloody , nonsense in certain situations.
Emma, when are you coming home? Did I mention that I'm the most incredible loserface in the whole loserfaced world? I stop in midstride, thinking 'I should really write to Emma soon,' and then I never do. There's that damn comma again. I love you anyway, even if I have to use commas when talking to you.
Jesse the Un-Jesse (AJ TRAHAN!?), when are you coming home? I know you had wanted to go to Albuquerque with us last year for that conference, and I was thinking that you might want to go this year if you were back...but then the deadline passed. I finally sent you that letter that I had started writing an eon ago...or maybe it was another letter, because I think I still have the first letter I started writing you. Maybe I should just finish it and send it to you and let you fill in the gap between when I started it and when I finished it. Make up exciting stories of vanquishing trolls and saving damsels in distress for me and insert them at your leisure.
There's something strange about rain that makes me want to change everything around. I'm cleaning out my room and so far I've found:
-Two (2) old post-it-notes from Jesse the Jesse (presumably written during a class); One talking about how she didn't think that Nathan was actually that hot and about how that was a good thing because then we wouldn't both like him, and one supposedly from Nathan, professing his undying love to me.
-One (1) love letter from the pink elephant (who is high on soap bubbles) asking for my hand in marraige (I turned him down for the wise, old baboon. Triumphant pants).
-Meg's pictures from Galveston. You look so pretty when you bite your lip like that, Meg. Unphotogenic, my gluteus. We all look so so happy and windblown.
I have a strange sinking feeling in my chest, like I forgot to put my stomach back in. I should go finish cleaning my room.
Write back soon,
Geeta
current music: Shout-Tears for Fears (what an insane name)
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(6 comments | comment on this)
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4:35 pm - Download a client
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Dear Viv,
Your email lends a much welcome break to my dreary Sunday. Austin is dripping and muggy with little hope of reprieve. I've wiled away my weekend rummaging through old things (I still have the colorful, wooden, mystical creature that you brought back for me from Oaxaca, although it's lost one ear and one horn. It's seated comfortably on my dresser with its earless side carefully hidden behind a trophy) and rearranging my room. I find myself with what I thought would be blissfully little to do, but am starting to realize that I prefer having too much to do over having too little.
I'm glad you've found something worth studying. I'm mucking through ridiculously easy classes at ACC right now, which promise to be supremely boring for the rest of the semester (well, at least until we get to quantum physics). I probably talked very differently about them in my last email (if I mentioned them at all). My opinions on these things tend to shift very suddenly; I will probably be singing their praises when next I write.
Yes, what you're talking about is indeed Calculus. As a previous victim, I must say it really isn't that bad. There's always a great hue and cry whenever Calculus is mentioned here, but, as you so eloquently put it, it's not terribly fun but not that difficult either. I think it's only when you get to Integral Calculus (the reverse of what you're doing, which is Differential Calculus) that it starts getting ugly. I should have expected that when I took Calculus, though, since things are never as simple backwards as they are forwards.
If you really were hoping for an elucidation of what it means (although I'm not sure this will provide it), differential calculus is essentially the study of the "rate of change." For instance, the derivative (that little-- ' --thing you were talking about) of position is velocity, because velocity is the "rate of change" of position. So if your position is represented by the term x squared, then your velocity will be 2x.
Integrals are just the reverse of that. So position is the integral of velocity, etc, etc, etc. But you probably knew all this already anyway. If not, I hope it lent some meaning to an otherwise random art.
I've always wanted to go ice skating outside. Can you do all sorts of exciting flips and turns and salchows like you always see the skaters doing behind Dick Clark on the New Year's Eve countdown in Time Square? Perhaps I should come to Russia just so I can go skating on the gravel driveway with you. I'll remember to bring skates and save myself some money.
I've always heard about how gorgeous St. Petersburg is. That will have to be my second stop after the ice rink. Say hello to Sonja from me! I can't draw straight lines either.
Your ramblings were actually very amusing. I too am a strong opponent of essays. If they were outlawed my world would be far better for it. I still have one more of those devilish things to write for what I swear will be the last summer program I apply to. Those things are the spawn of Satan, and I am looking forward less and less to doing college applications. I failed miserably on the essay section for the SATII Writing Test; apparently, neither of my graders thought Galileo and my aunt were good enough examples of people with different types of courage. Perhaps convincing yourself that you're actually excellent at writing essays will help. Let me know if it does so I can employ it (I promise to pay more than minimum wage).
Well, I think I've written enough to successfully give me Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. I think I'll go outside and yell at the sky to see if it stops raining. If that doesn't work, I shall just have to resign myself to staring at my earless, Oaxacan gift and wishing I was skating on an icy, gravel rink with you in a vast, Harry Potterless land.
Love,
Geeta
current mood:  calm
current music: Come Together - The Beatles
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(comment on this)
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| Sunday, December 12th, 2004
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12:13 pm - Wooooohooo
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lettuceshine's journal
Pschitt!
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