cuponoodles

I just spent the last five minutes trying to access my voicemail at my internship because I couldn't remember my mailbox number. It's 311, which is pretty damn easy to memorize, but for some reason my brain couldn't call it up from my memory. I had even used it maybe an hour ago. I think it was lodged between forgotten numbers like my dorm room telephone number and my locker combination from junior year.

So, I just sat there punching in numbers that I thought were my mailbox's until something finally clicked. As usual, there were no messages.

I probably have better things to do instead of playing Civilization III all weekend long. It's a three-year-old game, and I'm just getting into it now. What is wrong with me?

Seriously people.

Oh yeah, and I'm planning on going back to school to get a master's in education. This requires education-related work before applying, so that's what I'm working toward. Journalism, not my thing. I just graduated with a degree in it so I could well, just graduate. Thought I would do it for 5 or 10 years before going back to school to teach. I'm just accelerating the process by a few years now. Big news, eh?

I worked at my new job at a used game/cd store for nine hours today, and my feet are killing me. I'm not sure how long I'll be there, as I may look for work that's related to the education field. Why? I'll tell you later. If you wait patiently I'll give you a peanut butter cup, okay?

This is a pretty cool image from a reader at Boing Boing that shows a county-by-county election map of US, mixing the votes of Democrats and Republicans. The result is a sort of blue-red-purplish map.

It's interesting how the blue areas are mostly found on the coast and along rivers. Is that because the largest cities in the US are usually by the water, and metropolitan areas tend to be more liberal? It would be interesting to read a report on the geo-political structure of the US and how it came to be that way.

Well, more interesting than staring at your fingers, or something.

There are two things that I'm going to try to avoid this next week: Boasting or complaining about the results of the presidential election. Living in a blue state, I'm sure I'll be hearing more of the latter. All I'm going to do in response is cover my ears.

Taking a look at various blogs on the Internet, I've read all sorts of proclamations that I believe are over-reactions and hyperbolic statements concerning how our country is going to go down the shithole and we'll all end up freezing/burning/beaten/shot/starving to death by global warming/fanatical Christians/fascists/terrorists/bad economy.

I'm sure plenty of people were spouting apocalyptic nonsense in the same manner when Nixon won a second term and when Reagan won in 1984. I'm sure a number of them proclaimed they were also moving to Canada and the UK.

The thing is, four years will go by and the country will be in better or worse shape than it is now. There will be another election and if the majority of voters want change, there will be change. If they don't, then there won't.

All I want to be able to do for the next few weeks is to be able to hear myself think. But somehow, I doubt this.

Today, I had the chance to throw away a vote for Bush. My dad gave me his ballot to drop off at the Central Library. He's been a Republican since who knows when (actually, he's probably since Johnson sent him to Vietnam in 1965). Amusingly, he hadn't voted in an election since 1992 until the last election because my mom decided to become an American citizen and vote Democrat.

This year, in another move to nullify her vote, he cast his vote for GWB (he wasn't especially fond of Kerry's words and actions post-Vietnam). However, being a fair-minded individual, he voted AGAINST Measure 36.

As I walked to the library this morning, I glanced over at the trash bin on the sidewalk. So, what did I do?

I put his ballot in the drop off box with mine. What did you think I was going to do? I'm a good kid.

The Oregon fessed up to its mistake in running a photo of the Godzilla-imposter Gorgo instead of the real Big G in the living section. I do have to give them credit for admitting their mistake, but when I read that the Oregonian's excuses included "we were being ironic" and "wardrobe malfunction" I rolled my eyes.