Nineteen
My dear wife C.M. recently sent me a peculiar sort of message on the akin-to-email Facebook funcion. She messaged me urgently, telling me plainly that I needed to "get with the times" and obtain a blog on Tumblr.

Tumblr? Really?

In my opinion, Americans are far too much about the newest thing. One shiny grows a year or two old and suddenly it's all about the new shiny!

Blackberries. MacBooks. Razor phones. 3G cellular reception. The Droid... all sorts of nifty gadgets so thin - as thin as a penny and almost as light as a feather! - you're fascinated and awed by them for all eternity.

Or almost. Just until they come in contact with your 800-page Psychology textbook - yes, those still come in pages -, or the ground, or the penny it is just barely fatter than. Then the wi-fi no longer connects, and of course there's no port for a cord; the paint has been chipped, anyhow; and the new one is thinner than a penny. So, of course, you have to rush out and buy the new one.

Does anybody remember the fascination that a computer as big as a house once held? This was the FUTURE! And on Star Trek, a thin sheet of metal and glass that could translate sentences into other languages and store thousands of pages' worth of data? That was so far in THE FUTURE people laughed at the idea!

Now, look at us! The iPad! Nooks! Kindles! This is THE FUTURE about which they laughed! No one thought it was possible, and here it is - but it'll be improved next week. It will also be able to record and play music and videos, in a file type the name of which we can't speculate. Not today.

People don't have any appreciation for THE FUTURE anymore because they are too busy anticipating its descent into what is PAST.

In fact, those were C.M.'s words exactly. When I protested that I have a perfectly good blog on a perfectly good website, which, by the way, I know how to use, she told me: "Blogger is a thing of the past." The dreaded past into which no good, fashionable human being in a first-world country should fall.

Well, maybe it is. And maybe, eventually, I'll cave in to peer pressure.

However, a friend of mine recently realized the wonders of old technology. Needing a place to express herself to herself, but privately - away from the judging eyes of others - she has turned back to Xanga.

Do you remember Xanga?

I hadn't either. This friend had encouraged me to get my very first blog - prior only to this one - on Xanga, a similarly alright blogging website that was replaced, ironically enough, by Blogger. This was years ago - maybe four years, if I'm counting right.

I was never all that into it - I had had my paper diary for a number of years, but then I replaced it with a (now) 400-page-long Word document. It was private, fancy and password-protected, and it suited me fine. But, of course, the craze was to share your private thoughts with the world, with anyone who cared to care about what you had to say about whatever it was you thought and did all day.

At the encouragement of this same friend, B., I got a Xanga blog. I probably gave it three entries or so before I became bored and went back to my Word document. However, I signed up to follow her blog, a thing which Xanga did with nifty e-mail notifications. Every time she made an entry, it was sent to my convenient Yahoo! inbox, and vice versa. However, eventually, we both gave up on our blogs. Four years later I obtained this Blogger and the username Nineteen. Xanga was a thing of the dreaded PAST.

And then, just this morning, I get an email - a BLAST FROM THE PAST, if you will. From Xanga.

Xanga? I thought. I barely remember this Xanga thing. I can't believe it's still around. But there it was - still up and running, four years later - the miniature WALL-E of the blogging world, maybe. I opened up the email and there it is: someone willingly going back to the world of the not-future: someone who had found a benefit to remembering the websites and the blogs of THE PAST. I quote:

"I haven't posted here in forever, wow!
"I've got a new blog now, and that's the one that I mainly post on and that people read, but for some reason [...] I wanted to post here. Mostly because this is a blog that I don't want [people at school] to read."


A-ha! I think, my mind racing. A good reason for "obsolete" technology? I began to read the rest of B's entry.

And it was the most incredible thing.

It invoked the image of seventh-grade me, sitting down at my computer to work on an enormous Word document that was password-protected even though I got the distinct feeling that I was writing for someone's benefit. And how about that.

I was reading it.

So say all you want about iPads and Motorola Razors, automated parallel parking (nnnnngggg that idea is so frightening) and voice-activated chandeliers. I'm cool with having a two-year old phone so I'm cool with having a Blogger. Maybe in two weeks I'll upgrade and never return, or maybe I'll come back to the perfectly equal PAST over here.

I'm not saying stop using toilet paper and replace your silver crown with a block of wood. I'm just saying appreciate the technology you have before you consider trashing it for something new.

Remember, air conditioning units break. But pouring water on your head will always cool you down.

Just be careful not to short out your iPad.

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Nineteen
So, I have a CAS essay and 75 hours, in two areas (Creativity, Action, or Service) due. Tomorrow. And my 2nd Extended Essay draft is due Tuesday... tomorrow also happens to be graduation, and I'm Junior Escorting, so.

It doesn't help that for the last two days I've been ucky sick and stuff...

So yesterday I awoke at Freakishly Early (aka 6 a.m.) to take my similarly early IB Spanish exam. And I felt GROSS. But whatever, I had my first half of my bagel with lox (JEW FOOD WIN). Then I felt unable to finish it, but I knew I would be hungry during the test if I didn't eat the whole thing. I packaged it up and took it along.

Get to the test, I feel like crap, and my stomach is spazzin' out ish. Like, I don't feel like I'm going to throw up, and I finish the bagel. Eet was delicious. (I love Nova lox.) So I find my seat, and we start the test.

For the sake of time, I'll skip on the test details. But Sr C really had us prepared. So it was really easy.

My problem arose right before the break, when I thought my innards were about to spontaneously implode or something. They hurt SO BAD. My entire abdomen was on fire. Good thing I had already finished. Mrs G was up at the front of the room, and is also terrifying, and there were only four minutes left, so I didn't ask if I could go to the bathroom. I just waited, and then as soon as we went on break I dashed to the bathroom. I was so worried that I would have to leave early and that my exam would be DQ'd, which would suck more than a lot of things that suck a lot.

But I actually got back out in time for the test - BARELY, but in time - and then I started feeling better as soon as I began my letter to the security guards at the discotech that had kicked out my friends for not being "well dressed" enough. (The prompts these guys come up with. Yeesh!)

And then for the rest of the day I was basically fine. Went over to see my darling N.L.N. before he left on his trip, and ate that panini that I had forgotten on Tuesday. Then I came back here and tried cramming for my IOC, which... well, let's say I got a little sidetracked.

Slightly Damned, anybody?

Anyway, I stressed about the IOC a lot, but not enough to actually do anything. I was just feelin' really lethargic and whatnot. And like not doing my IOC. So I talked to my man for a while and we traded puns back and forth. You know, Mercedes bends, Linoleum Blownaparte... don't drink and deride. Because everyone knows the worstest puns are the ones that have you laughing the longest!

You hear about that goldfish that went bankrupt? Now he's a bronzefish!
Crick: The sound a camera makes in Japan!

Anyway, the point is, I did much more not-IOC. And I complained a lot about my lack of motivation, which I probably do more than is necessary. Well, definitely. (Sorry, dear. I'll make it up to you next time you tell me about the Lakota not-pointing policy or... something.)

Except then I forced myself to work on Hamlet and Much Ado, and I read Sparknotes for Dubliners cuz I was terrified of getting a Dubliners extract. Then I fell into bed...

Woke up this morning at 8 feeling like more crap. Tried eating cereal - bran, plainest, most practical cereal I could find - and yogurt, but I had to force the cereal down a bit. Got to the exam feeling like I would legitimately be sick. But I told myself it was nerves and I'd be fine. Got the envelope, and my extract, said "shit" a few dozen times, and went through the motions of analyzing it.

The one where Benedick is like, "I hate you, Prince. I hate Beatrice. I hate love and myself and oak trees and Hercules and everyone. But especially Beatrice. I am going to go sulk now. You all suck."

He is such a whiner...

So I try to get at the deeper meaning of this extract from Much Ado that I did not prepare... sigh... and by the end of my twelve minutes I've talked in so many circles and repeated myself so many times that I am legitimately sweating. I was SO RELIEVED to be out of there. And I felt all dizzy and unfocused, but hey! - at least I was done, right?

Long story short, I also made it to coffee with D.S. (not the video game console, thank you) which was fun, but I was dizzy and he kept talking about all these chemicals that I don't know what they are. But then we started up with the puns and I could follow those.

Then I came back here and discovered a fever of 100 (which explains the dizziness). I also discovered my complete lack of apetite and the definite combination of feeling hot and sweating/getting chills that points to being sick.

ICK ICK ICK

So basically I've had a bug all this time. And I'll probably still have it tomorrow...

AND I STILL HAVE TO DO STUPID FRIGGIN' CAS STUFF.

UGHHHHHH

Well anyway. Now you know the whole, horribly long story.
Nineteen
Okay so.

I finished the first draft of my EE. At 4,960 words it's a little lengthy, but whatever. I'm going to cut a ton at the beginning anyway.

And I have the weirdest cramp ever. It's right where my thumb connects to my palm. Like from hitting the spacebar too much. Crazy. And I should be resting it / letting it recover, but whatever. I am still typing. And the ice hurts because it is so freezing and cold.

You can probably tell that I've been reading City Face from Gunnerkrigg Court. If you haven't, you should, and thus you should visit this page and the nine after it:

http://www.gunnerkrigg.com/archive_page.php?comicID=562

Yes.

Now then.

I AM SORRY FOR FORGETTING ABOUT YOUR TOE SURGERY, MY DARLINGEST E.M.Y.M.S. As compensation I am giving you a dozen of those candy cupcakes on a stick.

Mind you that is one stick. Not a dozen. A dozen cupcakes. One stick.

They are better that way.

Like a feel-better kabob of joy.

Yes.
Nineteen
So it has obviously been a month since my last post. My one follower has probably lost all faith in me, which makes me VERY SAD. Don't worry, follower. I am disappointed in myself also.

Basically, even though finals week is over and I've been out of school for three weeks, it feels still very school-like. What with this hella long essay I'm wrapping up (256 words to go. I am 93.6% there. Freaking 4,000 words) due this afternoon, and my Spanish test Wednesday, my English exam Thursday (ORAL, thank you very much >.<)... plus the SAT Subject Bio and Spanish tests in early June, and my JOB, thank you very much also... Well, the point is, it really does not feel very out-of-schooly. Just like the weeks are shorter and there is more weekendness going on. And tons more webcomics, also. May I reccommend to you Gunnerkrigg Court and No Need For Bushido? These guys are awesome for procrastination - erm, I mean, um, for... for... yeah, okay, for procrastination. But they are fun reads. And I also just discovered the Remix section! Which is hilarious and not helping my paper ANY. :D

Prom was fantastic, though. ULTRA FUN. And N.L.N. went with me even though he didn't really want to :) What a trooper! A real trooper. And he even had fun, but he doesn't like to admit it :P I wonder if we'll go to Prom next year also.

Probably not. XD

And then Israel. Whoo. Israel in like four weeks? The hell! We leave on the 13th of June. Is that four weeks? I don't know, my last math paper was turned in weeks ago, I can't mathify right now. Don't ask me. I'm supposed to be adding 256 words to that essay to wrap it up.

It's a DAMN good thing this is only the first draft, too. FYI.

So, long story short, here is the summary of the last month, in PICTURE FORM for added awesomeness.

Most of what's happening:

These are friggin' cupcake-shaped cake and candy treats on a STICK, people. What the hell. Why can't I have one? Totally epic.

...And then there is IB.

Picture's worth a thousand words, folks. Figure it out.

Actually that one is worth 1,009 words. Because they are there.

Or maybe that detracts from it so it is only worth 991 words.

Figure it out. I have four things to do for a giant, running, dinosaur-eating crocodile now. Bai.

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