Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Turning things around

Time's up. This is the third time they've said pencils down, I have to stop.

It's interesting to listen to the gray noise that's created by a crowd of people all talking at once. You can tell a lot from it. Nothing precise, but you can sense the overarching emotion of the crowd, the age, and the gender balance pretty easily.

I am the silent black dot in a crowd of worried/angry group of young adults, about equal by gender. I stop to flick out my ipod, my mind processing a vast array of thoughts about curves. Mostly about those of the grading scheme, but more then a few about a visibly outraged, but still gorgeous girl a few meters ahead of me.

I really wish I could control these things.

Nobody finished. A few people were out before the bell rang, but easily 95% of the class was still writing when they forced us to stop. It's obvious that functionally no one else did well, all we can do now is wait and see where we stand amongst the wreckage.

The song on my iPod is something by frontalot. It's nerdcore, so it's amusing and somewhat light hearted, meaning that it's completely wrong for the moment. Clicks and lights later "Go Forth And Die" by dethklok begins playing and I'm on my way, a black spot amidst the shadows, heading home.

I'm not sure if it was the musics influence, or my mood, but my aura of malice is in full effect, nearly in rare form. In a twisted way I find that soothing. Some form of power is still in my grasp.

Tactical thoughts set in. I haven't eaten in a long time, I should go buy groceries.
I don't feel like cooking
I should call kyoto, or wingstop.
I don't feel like either of those.
We're slipping dangerously close to depression. I've learned that little incidents like this, with direct obvious external causes, will pass within a night and never really reach critical levels; so I head towards safeway with the intent of buying Soda then getting fast food once my car is available to me again.

Which is when I run into an old friend of mine from Lander. The stories of her declining health and mental well being had been a background concern of mine for a while. She's doing a lot better, she's gotten things in order, cleaned up a lot of her act, and is taking charge of things. She also has the same warm hearted affection and highly supportive nature that always shone through the miasma of depression and alcoholism that sometimes consumed her. That light that gave me hope for her shines brighter now then it has in a long while. Her affection, and in all honesty her intoxicating appearance, fill me with a kind of humble warmth. It's good to know that she's getting better, and that she hasn't forgotten me.

We part ways, both intent on renewing more reliable contact with the other, and I head deeper into the store, thinking about what it is I'm going to cook.

I meet up with a friend of mine from my D&D group. He actually took this chem class from this professor early on, and agrees that Chem 142 teaches you nothing, and that Daruwala is a nightmare. Another ten minutes of talk on all manner of things, a brief parting to finish our respective purchases, and since he lives across the street from me the rest of our discussion takes place on the move. I don't feel burdened, and I don't seem to have any problem adjusting to his natural pace, a measure faster then mine.

When I get back I'm still intent on going out, and on a whim I decide to prepare the purchased food tomorrow since I'm heading out already. "Assassin's Creed" came out recently, and I've been looking forward to it since PAX 06. Kevin drives, we swing by the Ave for food, and on another bit of whimsical impulse I order a few untested items from the menu. Both impulses turn out well.

[the following has been blacked out because it contains spoilers relevant to Assassin's Creed. They're from the first 20 minutes of the game, so your call]
Starting the game up when we get back shows that the tiny bits of electrical glitching and strange o-chem symbols are still in abundance. For a game set during the crusades this seems odd, and Kevin and I have been wondering about that for a while now. I think I recognize one of those chemicals that flashed across the screen just before I started it up. Thymine? I'm fairly certain that was one of the D.N.A.s The into to the game is interesting, there are a few mentions of memories and ancestors in the surrounding noise, and a theory occurs to me. Genetic memory projection, allowing you to become anyone of your ancestors. It's revealed in a round about way, and I admit I only made the call minutes before the reveal, but nonetheless, I called it.

I head to sleep several hours and more then a few assassinated guards later in an excellent mood. The test is still a concern of mine, but all in all it was a great day.

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