Here's Me, Trying Linux Mint

For ages (eh, three years- since freshman year and my first reading of Little Brother) I've been using Ubuntu Linux. And for "ages" minus exactly one week, I've been hearing about Mint. A lot of people I respect use Mint, and I've yet to even try it, so here's me... trying it. This is a sort of installation log; it'll be updated throughout the installation process.

Which version of Mint do I want? This is mostly an arbitrary decision on my part. I decide I want the version with the fancy-looking Cinnamon desktop. Not so hard. I download the .iso

How the fuck should I do this? My laptop doesn't burn DVDs. My largest CD is too small to handle this file. Fuck. I'll use an old mp3 player (about five years old- a cheap knockoff iPod, 2GB, probably cost about fifteen bucks when it was new).

Let's try using a "flash drive" to install an OS. This feels responsible. I try to install imageWriter. I realize I already have it installed. I attempt to burn the .iso to my mp3 player (herein called Dipshit). It fails to even see the file. I remember that sometimes iW doesn't like .isos. I change the file ending to .img. It still fails, although this time I did get as far as attempting to burn it. I get a nondescript error message: The dd process ended with an error !

Let's Google this error message. I find this. It helps. Putting up with IW's shit, indeed. I use "sudo imagewriter" instead of just "imagewriter". It works.

Let's wait. Here's where I spend time figuring out if in the D&D group I'm in next semester I wanna be an elf paladin (neutral good) again or a half-elf rogue (chaotic good). I decide to be a half-elf rogue. Chaotic good sounds like my ex-boyfriend when he didn't take his ADD/ADHD/whichever meds, but I'll give it a try. It's good to try new things.

It's done burning. Let's try booting from it. I'll see you on the other side, bitches.

I'm No Longer Cool

So I haven't been feeling very cool lately. Maybe it's just the hormone-induced attitude changes (thanks, uterus!) coloring my view of recent weeks, but I just don't feel cool.

For one, my literary obsession of late isn't something I can talk about with most people. Everyone knows Harry Potter (although I have a more vast set of knowledge on the series in my head than many may realize is even possible), and every geek worth his pocket protector gets a good Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference ("What is the question?"), but nobody who isn't in the running for an English Lit degree seems to adore Shakespeare the way I do.

The insults in Hamlet, the sexual tension betwixt Beatrice and Benedick (hell, in Spanish IV, my chosen Spanish name is Beatriz after this woman!), just the changing-up of his style from work to work- it's all marvelous! I'm simply devouring his works, and since all my favorite people are more engineering geeks than literature nerds (and the lit nerds I find all feel super pretentious about it), I'm finding it hard to discuss.

For another, my hobbies lately are off. Gone are my days of learning Python for my internship (I mean, I have the internship, but it isn't my biggest obsession, which is probably a problem). Hello, knitting! I have recently knit a voodoo doll of a friend for the same friend, a hat (which I started last November and left almost complete in the top of my closet until a week ago), a scarf with stripes based on the digits of pi, and a Golden Snitch. I'm now working on my first legitimate hat (knit in the round rather than knit flat and seamed up the back) and a Möbius strip cowl.

I mean, knitting's incredibly fun, not to mention it has a more tangible result than any other hobby I've ever had, but again, there's no one to discuss this with in my life other than my grandmother. If I try to talk to friends about it, they beg me to make them things. Because they don't knit themselves, they don't realize how much effort it is- even once a project's done, if you have a thousand color changes, you have two thousand ends to weave in. Which is a bitch, jussayin'.

Ah, well. If being cool is anything like being beautiful, it is "a witch / Against whose charms faith melteth into blood*." So who needs it, right?

*blood passion, desire

Letter to My Freshman Self

Dear Freshman Self,

First off, I know you'll doubt this is actually me. You. Whatever. Some proof? In the middle of eighth grade, you started a slam book and became closer friends with K. Within, you discussed boys, K's falling-out with M, and science class (in science class- you/we passed it back and forth like crazy; you'll be amused to discover that now, four years after the slam book, K and I have been assigned to sit next to each other in Bio II, and she still rants to me about stuff and things). It was like controlled gossip. Oh, not enough proof? God, I'm a hell of a jaded freshman. One of your friends- L- had a sex dream about your seventh grade English teacher, in the seventh grade. Enough proof? Yeah, I thought so. Now stop thinking about your teacher like that. Stop it. Stop. Okay, moving on- hey, I told you to stop!

Second off, I'd like to congratulate you. You've made it through the tough part, babe. I know you're not sure about it and that you've heard horror stories, but it's really so, so much better than middle school ever had a chance at being, and everything beats elementary school, right? (Elementary does have one advantage high school doesn't: nap time. It doesn't seem like anything now, but by senior year, you'll be begging teachers to let you nap. Spoiler alert, they won't let you.)

Seriously, though, high school will kick ass. There's a higher level of freedom. It won't feel like it at times- hell, it'll feel like they're giving you the responsibilities of an adult with all the trust and liberty of a third grader. And sometimes, that'll be true. Other times, you'll be having the time of your life. Between super-fun classes, friends, and... uhm... the school food (there exists a seniors-only tradition of throwing apples at the brick wall outside the cafeteria), the years will fly by.

Your freshman year will be a piece of cake, trust me. Everyone has the basic classes, and you'll throw in Career Management as well. The teacher is a silly old fart, and he'll have you draw lots of pictures. Easy A. Plus, you'll move in with Mother, and Mrs. A will start to take you to school! Yes, you'll have fallen out of love with her son by that point, you silly goose.

Speaking of love- freshman year, you'll be clear. Your friends will involve themselves with others, but other than an ill-fated, super-chaperoned movie date with McN (spoiler alert, you smash your fingers in the car door and spill nacho cheese on your way in), you'll keep on flying solo. Sophomore year, you'll screw yourself over. You'll say "I love you" without meaning it and because you're scared. He'll say it after, like, three days! And you'll break up after, like, two weeks! And then you'll go back to him, because you're a dumbshit. It'll all work out eventually, though. He's a dick, and you'll figure that out. Also sophomore year, you'll start to have a thing for BK. Yes, he was the first guy to call you a bitch. Yes, you and he made up freshman year. Yes, he has magnificent hair. Yes, he likes you, too. Yes, RD will call you crazy. Yes, you're crazy. BK is not for you, no matter how great the terrible hour-long television dramas he recommend are.

At the very end of sophomore year, you'll meet a nice boy. You'll be entranced with him. He's a junior. He's a loner. You'll attempt to Facebook stalk him, but you won't find him until summertime. You and he will be enchanted by one another: you'll stay up IMing on Facebook until 4 AM a few times! He'll suck you into his nerdy online RPGs! He'll hit on you with Star Trek references! It'll be wonderful. Have fun talking with him.

From there on, no more spoilers. I don't want to ruin a good time by spoiling the ending, and I don't want to draw out a lengthy, emotional explanation of how you'll get from there to where I am today.

By the way, make sure to put in the Governor's School applications on time November of your junior year! It's worth it. You'll have the time of your life. You'll make new friends. You'll figure out what you do and don't want that you do or don't have.

Oh, and make sure to remember to start putting in your applications on time your senior year instead of writing imaginary letters to your freshman self. Shit's important!

With much love and luck,

Your senior self

In a Year, I'll Miss This

I'm worried about graduating. In about a year, I'll miss what I have now.

I don't mean to say that I'll miss the bullshit decisions of the Cheatham County school system, or the dreadful lack of vegetarian options in the cafeteria, or the new librarian who will, to me, never be able to replace our beloved- and fired- Mrs. Wuller.

No, I won't miss any of that.

But I'll miss getting to see my friends every day. I'll miss cuddling with Jonathon in the alcove in the front lobby while Hammy and that guy whose name I don't know scream not-quite-rude things at other people and I slowly down my coffee for the day. I'll miss complaining with Poland (a girl I know whose actual surname is Zurawicki) during seventh period about the idiots in first period. I'll miss my overbearing dictator/mother of a theatre instructor; I'll miss my nerdy role model history teacher whose student teacher won't quit calling me a hipster. I'll miss Grayson and his snide remarks about capitalism, Marissa, and me. I'll miss my calculus teacher and his Southern genius.

Even the things that are brand new to me right now, I'm sure I'll miss sorely.

I'll miss Ty, the skinny white starving-artist-to-be with the nerdy glasses and the giant music collection and the ability to play the ukelele. I'll miss the snarky new biology teacher who plays it by ear and is so much how I want to be in ten years.

I'll miss so much, and that's why I want to chronicle it.

Broke Up

Oh, hey there. So Kirby and I broke up.

I'm starting my senior year in high school, and I need to focus. He's starting his freshman year of college, and he needs to not be weighed down by me.

We're better as friends anyways.

I broke up with him.

Why my day was terrible, and what made me smile.

This was written the day before yesterday, just for reference.



1. I almost committed manslaughter, or something. I was negligent as hell.

Today, my brother could've killed or injured himself or someone else, and it would've been entirely my fault. I was watching Doctor Who with him in the living room during "nap time," and he wandered off. I assumed he was either watching videos with my sisters in the parlor or playing with my brothers upstairs. He wasn't; he'd gone outside, gotten into the locked shed, retrieved his gun, and gone down to the creek (it's generous calling it that- we're in a rather suburban area). He's eight. Maybe nine. I'm not entirely sure.

Of course, I didn't know that, or I'd have pitched a fit and dragged his ass inside. No, I sat on my lazy ass watching Doctor Who (mreow, David Tennant) instead of thinking to confirm his location.

Needless to say, when my mother got home and couldn't find him, I freaked. Five minutes into our realization that he was missing, he wandered up onto the patio wearing no pants or underwear, his shirt pulled down to cover his pre-pubescent junk.

"What happened to your pants?" Mother asked.

He replied, "I pood in them."

[I am reminded of the scene from Lo when Jeez says, "You look like a small child who just proudly shat his pants."]

We thought that was the end of that. But no.

Later, it became known that my step-dad's keys were missing. We searched and searched, and we found them under the van- if my Mother had gone off with the van instead of wanting to use my step-dad's Mustang (for which I don't blame her), those keys would've been gone.

I'm not sure of the details, but they found the gun- down by the creek, or under the van, or inside the shed amongst broken shit, or something- and put the pieces of the puzzle together. They asked my brother about it and he broke down, sobbing about how nobody loved him.

I almost hyperventilated on the couch when I realized that I could've been the indirect cause of a death or serious injury at the hands of my little brother. That fucker doesn't know how to use a gun properly; I don't know why the hell he has one, even if he's only supposed to use it under adult supervision.

2. I was reminded of my friend who killed herself in May.

My friend Mindy was a beautiful person. She was very reminiscent of Buttercup, if you remember the Powerpuff Girls. She was Asian. She cheated off of me in AP US History. She had a girlfriend.

I don't want to write about the details, but she killed herself in May. It was horrible. I didn't go to the funeral, but there was no escaping the truth. No denial. She's missed dearly, and I don't believe in a heaven, but if I did, I'd take solace in the fact that she could see how much we love her.

All this Chik-Fil-A bullshit is bringing forth a lot of posts by/about gays and lesbians on sites I frequent (read: reddit, reddit, and reddit). I know it sounds shallow, but every time I see something with a little Asian girl or a lesbian (or, goodness forbid, both, my poor heart), I think of Mindy immediately. I think of her on other occasions, too, but this has been particularly relevant lately.

I cried today.

3. No matter what, there's an entire universe to be explored.

But no matter what accidents I cause here or what grief I experience, there's a whole universe- maybe several, but that's getting ahead of the game a bit- waiting to be explored. I've lost someone dear to me, and it hurts like hell, but I have Mars to look forward to, for starters.

This knowledge doesn't make me miss Mindy any less. I'm not expecting to find her. I know that won't happen, and I know that space exploration wouldn't fill the void she left behind.

It's just that every time I get sad, I think of what's out there. What's waiting for me. For us.

Relationship Types I've Observed

Better as Friends


Example: Bad Boy and I, Hammy and Ember


Description: One of the two is romantically interested in the other. The other is flattered by the attention- so flattered, in fact, that he or she begins to return the feelings. They date, but one or the other eventually realized they were only in it for the feelings they were getting out of it and that the two would be better off friends.

How long does it last? Three weeks to a month.

Only There for the Title


Example: Drummer and I, Bad Boy and Ember

Description: At least one of the two parties involved is in it only for the title of Boyfriend or Girlfriend. They don't find the other person irresistible; they just really want to be in a relationship, and it doesn't necessarily matter with whom. Eventually one or both parties realize that the whole thing is pretty much a sham devoid of any actual emotional involvement.

How long does it last? One to two weeks.

Potential for Sexytimes?


Example: Donkey and Ember, Whiny Bitch and I

Description: One party is emotionally involved while the other is simply looking for someone to easily manipulate into sex. It isn't always the male looking for sexytimes, but I have yet to see a female in that position (perhaps I'm just too young for my social group to have that happen yet). Generally the emotionally involved party ends up heartbroken regardless of if they give in or not (you'll be glad to hear that neither Ember nor I gave in).

How long does it last? It really depends on how long it takes for the sexytimes-craving party to make it clear that's what he or she is there for. A couple of weeks, maximum.

Stuck in Tar


Example: Xeno and HipsterGurl

Description: Both parties are emotionally involved in the start. Seems healthy, right? Then one party starts getting jealous of the other person's friends. That party is hurt when the other person doesn't talk on the phone for two hours a night. That party is jealous when the other person spends time with people other than mutual friends, and even with mutual friends if that's without the jealousy-prone party. The jealous party becomes an emotional wreck, telling the other person that this relationship is his or her life and that life would be meaningless without it and that this has been the only thing keeping that person sane. The non-jealousy-prone party is scared, and it takes him or her months to work up the nerve to break it off. Even after the breakup, the jealousy-prone party will pretend inside his or her head that the two are still in a relationship, much to the chagrin of every other fucking person around him or her.

How long does it last? Six to twelve months, depending on the level of clinginess and the severity of the threats of what will happen should the relationship end.

Who Are You?


Example: Guillermo and Crazy Bitch, Whiny Bitch and I

Description: These two don't know each other very well when they start dating. They weren't friends for a while first- maybe they met through a mutual friend, maybe they met at a party, but they haven't known each other for more than a few days when one asks the other out. Sometimes they hit it off and all is well, but other times one party or the other realizes what kind of crazy they're dealing with.

How long does it last? Two weeks to two months, depending on the level of crazy.

Forever Fighting


Example: The Calculus Couple

Description: These two never stop fucking fighting and nagging at each other. "Babe, how could you mess that up?" "Ugh, your hair is getting too long." "That wasn't rude, it was perfectly justified." It doesn't look that bad as text, but when it's said with the level of exasperated disdain these two manage, and when it's this constant (to the point that when someone asks a friend of the two where they are, that friend replies with "Off somewhere arguing about some stupid bullshit, I'm sure.") it's emotionally scarring even for those not in the relationship but simply in its general proximity.

How long does it last? If the two don't realize what's going on, upwards of a year.

-------

Well, that does it for now. No comment on the shape of mine and Kirby's relationship- it's going well, and I don't want to give that shit a description or a timeframe. That would just be depressing, you know?

Looking back at the examples and seeing how many of them include me makes this feel like the Taylor Swift song of blog posts.

Anyways, what kind of relationships have you been in, readers? Do you have any suggestions for additional types or subtypes? Reply with a comment!

Rationalist Manifesto

In my AP European History class, we recently read Marx's Communist Manifesto and the class had an informal discussion about why real-world applications of communism tend to do poorly even though the concept looks and sounds brilliant. We came to the conclusion that it's due to the human element. 

I've been longing for a rationalist society in which every major decision would be based in logic, not in tradition or anything like that (tradition could be integrated in a "Most people will agree that the tradition of having weekends off is worth keeping" kind of way). Of course, I realize that nobody can be entirely rational 100% of the time and that many people can barely be entirely rational 25% of the time. 

And so I wrote this- the Rationalist Manifesto- during English class instead of reading about Herman Melville (which reminds me, when I finish typing this up, I really must start reading Moby Dick). I post it here for you with no changes (not even where I questioned my word choice while re-reading it). Enjoy.

I do not know what kind of person I am. I thirst for knowledge and for change- for revolution- yet I know not how to even approach such a thing. Who must I call to make the rich treat the poor with common decency? To whom do I have to send a letter- and on what kind of letterhead- to get religion out of politics?

I want society to change for the better, even if (perhaps especially if) this change must be gradual. I want rationality, critical thinking, and the desire to learn to be cherished above all else. What will it take?

Many others have tried before me to create a fresh society comprised entirely of rational beings, and it seems the consistent problem of such groups has been the human element. You can witness this even in small, unorganized, friendly groups of intellectuals: someone becomes upset and the entire group becomes absurdly and violently reactionary. If it is too much to expect even a small, (presumably) carefully selected group of people to work, live, laugh, and love in a consistently rational environment, one cannot possibly expect the same of an entire city, state, country, continent, hemisphere, or planet. No world is perfect, after all. Unfortunate, but true.

So I admit that a solely rational world is not feasible. Anyone who thinks otherwise is overestimating humanity. (I've been there; I'm not judging. Really and truthfully, one's thoughts and actions must be fairly laudable in order to expect so much of others. Laudable in their rationality, of course, not necessarily in their morality.) So we cannot expect that, and it is important that we remember this.

But one can dream- oh, one can dream.

Drop a comment below with your thoughts on the possibility or impossibility of a rational society.

Swanky

So last night I went to this magnificently swanky party in a suite that one man described as "very Sex and the City." The suite had three stories (with the bottom story on floor nine of the entire building, if I remember correctly), lighted stairs, chrome and modern furniture all around, floor-to-ceiling windows. It was pretty damn swanky.

It was like someone had gathered together Music City's biggest and richest and put them all in the same room to mingle- actually, no, it wasn't like that. That's exactly what the fuck it was. I shook the hand of some NFL player I- of course- didn't recognize, met the mother of the guy who played the Winklevoss twins in The Social Network (Armie Hammer), chatted with the most celebrated celebrity makeup artist in the city, and just general mixed and mingled with a lot of amazing people I didn't recognize. And I was offered wine (which I politely declined) on more than one occasion.

The occasion being celebrated? The premier of the new television show of a good friend of my grandmother's, Jonathon Pierce. The show is called Interiors, Inc. and airs on HGTV at 9:30 (8:30 Central) every Saturday.

My Top 5 Guilty Pleasures

5. 90's Boy Bands

Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC come to mind. The first CD I ever owned was the Backstreet Boys album Backstreet's Back. I probably jammed to Everybody (Backstreet's Back) more times than I can count, and I'm sure my mother thanked the Lord that I had headphones and not the huge speakers I have now.

4. Wizards of Waverly Place

I don't exactly watch it for the plot, and I really don't watch it for the dialogue, as both aspects of the show can be a little stilted on occasion. I really enjoy David Henrie (really enjoy him) as Justin Russo, the nerdy, geeky, all-around adorkable older brother of Alex Russo, the main character of the show.


3. Knitting

In the past I've knit fingerless gloves, adorable little coin purses, and iPod/mobile phone/mp3 player cases with cute little button flaps, and I'm currently working on a hat for Kirby (pictures of which I will post when it's finished, which will be soon).

2. Fanfiction

Criminal Minds, NCIS, Harry Potter, even some Twilight back in the day... any fandom I've written about on this blog, I've written/read fanfiction for it.

1. Nicolas Cage

I don't care how much everyone else hates him and thinks he overacts. I love him to death. National Treasure, Sorcerer's Apprentice, Season of the Witch... goodness, I love Nicolas Cage. 

Well, haters gonna hate. What are your guilty pleasures?

Boyfriend/Girlfriend Survey from Quizopolis.com

What is their name? - [censored for blogging purposes]
What pet name do you like to call them? - Kirby!
How long have you been together? - Officially? A few weeks. How long have we been mutually attracted to each other, emotionally and physically? Months.
How did you meet? - He was working with some friends of mine in a lab group last May.
What do you like the most about them? - His sense of humor.
What do you like the least about them? - Perhaps talking while our theater teacher is talking.
What is the best thing they have ever done for you? - I have no idea.
Have they met your parents yet? - Yes. It was slightly uncomfortable.
What would you kids look like if you had kids? - They'd at least be a decent height. And they'd totally have hazel eyes.
What is the worst argument you have had? - I don't know that we've ever actually argued.
Do you still kiss a lot? - We've kissed each other on the cheek.
Who asked who out? - Well, erm, Iunno.
Do you think you will get married? - I don't know.
Can you see yourself growing old with them? - Honestly? I can see it.
What is the one thing you would like to change about them? - Not a damn thing.
What do you think they would like to change about you? - Perhaps make me more of a gamer.
What is the first gift they ever bought you? - Voltage (Mountain Dew)! And if that doesn't count, then a cute bookmark.
Do you have a favorite song together? - Erm... perhaps When You Were Young by the Killers.
Which famous person do you think they look like the most? - I haven't the foggiest.
Would you say the two of you are a good match? - Definitely.

Take This Survey at Quizopolis.com
http://www.quizopolis.com/boyfriend_girlfriend_survey.php

Looking Pretty Whilst Sleep-Deprived as Hell: A Guide

I was asked recently (that's a lie, it wasn't recent; I've looked like shit recently due to an inability to take my own advice) how I manage to look so nice whilst so motherfucking sleep-deprived. (My average sleep amount on weeknights for junior year, not counting midterm week, has been five and a half to six hours. And remember, that's an average; for every night I've gotten eight or nine hours, I've gotten one or two- or none, though from what I can remember that's only happened once, very near the beginning of August- on another night.)

1. Drink black coffee like... well, fish don't drink water, so we'll say "like an alcoholic drinks alcoholic beverages." Yes, your piss will reek. If that bothers you, drink more water.
2. Drink lots of water. Oh, look at that! Now maybe if you remember this part your piss won't reek. Note: You will not remember this part.
3. Sit with proper posture and gesticulate during conversations. If you make an effort to appear alert and energized, you will reap two benefits: first off, you'll feel alert and energized, and second off, others will see you as energetic. And energetic is attractive.
4. For God's sake, don't skip on the morning routine. Mascara makes you look like you really do have eyelashes and doing something to fix your hair makes you look infinitely more put-together. There's nothing so awful as a halo of frizz on hair pulled back, particularly if your hair is curly. 
5. Set your outfit out the night before. Future You will not have the time or the sense to pick out something decent to wear. Future You needs to have something to slip into while still half-asleep.

Most of these tips also apply to those who are not sleep-deprived, but I figured since I'm going to get about five hours tonight I'd start off a lengthy reading/charting session with a slightly relevant blog post.

Hipster: Yea or Nay?

The girl in the picture is Xeno's ex and a dear friend of mine, to whom I will now refer as Derpette. This picture is a couple of weeks old; she recently cut her hair in such a manner that she resembles a pixie. She and I (and the rest of our group of friends) have been going back and forth for ages now, and I'm turning to you, the internet, to resolve this argument.

Is she a hipster or not?

First person to agree with me gets a poem written for them.

Once Again, I'm Entirely Full o' Shit

 A recent post of mine was heartfelt when I wrote it. But in retrospect I'm full of shit.

I never know what my heart is going to do. It's frustrating.

I broke up with that guy over winter break. Why? Oh, take a guess, internet. I lost interest and there was someone else.

About a week before I broke up with the guy, I had a dream. (I love that I finally had a chance to use that statement legitimately on MLK day.) Kirby had been split into two nearly-identical people, both of whom were romantically interested in me and in both of whom I was romantically interested. (Fuck yeah proper prepositional phrase placement.) Everyone was fussing at me for not choosing one or the other, and I was tearing myself apart for not being able to choose; they were both so wonderful! Of course, when I woke up and was aware that Kirby is but one person, I was incredibly relieved. Oh, and in the dream there was something about Republicans and Democrats trying to mulch a yard together but being incapable of deciding in what manner to distribute the mulch. But that isn't really relevant.

The day after the day I awoke from that dream, I went to lunch with Kirby and his parents. I later found out Kirby's mother contrived this lunch gathering to gauge whether or not I was suitable for her only son. Apparently they liked me well enough (or at least approved of me), because a few weeks later (after I'd broken up with the other guy due to not wanting to keep going in a relationship in which I wasn't truly emotionally invested) Kirby came over to my house.

He played Call of Duty: Black Ops with two of my siblings, he got interrogated by Bear, the whole shebang. My parents think he's a lot like my mother's brother, which means they think he's one of the dorkiest things to walk the planet. Which is a completely legitimate conclusion. They tolerate him, though, I think. They don't know him well enough to really like or dislike him yet.

This weekend our plan is for me to go to his house and watch the original Star Wars trilogy since I've only seen one of the films and that was a very long time ago. You, my dear readers, will get to see how that goes.

Also, I drew a picture regarding how I feel sometimes around him.