I don't wanna, and other whiney-butt musings on the value of this mortal life. Also known as, I should be doing my homework right now.

No, seriously.  I don't wanna.

Which brings up the deep, philosophical question: WHY???  Why don't I wanna?

Why?  Well, because I DON'T CARE!!!

I mean, I already wrote this paper.  Granted, it was just a rough draft, but the fun part is done.  Know what I have to do now?  Well... first item of business is to entirely remove my "voice" from the paper.  Apparently my teacher thinks it's too colloquial.  And, being that it's a work of academic interest, I am not allowed to show any remote shred of personality.  My teacher was very nice about it, though, and went through my paper, deleting my personality for me.  Now my paper is happily in his monotonous voice.  I just have to transfer his corrections to my document.

After that, I have to rewrite my introduction.  As my teacher put it, "It's a fine introduction as it is, but everybody should rewrite theirs after they've finished their paper.  Introductions always need improvement, so I want you to change it."

Thank you?

I also need to make my bibliography in line with Kate Turabian's massive style guide, because the Chicago Manual of Style apparently wasn't good enough for historians.

And then, the part I really don't want to do - add in a blip of something that I don't really care about to prove that I did research and "improved my paper" after turning in the rough draft.

And, the absolute worst part of all... I have to **gasp!** quit whining about working on my paper and work on my paper!!!

Aftermath

Sometimes, I feel all emo and melodramatic, because I know the truth is that it feels good to cry.  If it's not letting it go, at least it's processing.

I wonder when I'll be able to let go.  Maybe when it's gone?  It's very persistent in its way of clinging to my life.  I should have let it go a very, very long time ago, but I haven't.  I don't want to, and I won't.  I like it. 

At least, I like not being without it.

And more than that, I can't stop wishing it will come back.  And not just return, but change from what it was into everything that I actually need it to be.

And sometimes, I just really, really, really need to be held.

There.  Do I win emo points?

Tik Tok

Right now I'm sitting on the couch, shamelessly burning time until my work party happens.  I really could get up and do something, but then I wouldn't be burning time.

Wouldn't it be nice if burnt time actually burned?  Then I wouldn't be cold.  And we could roast marshmallows.

Dear Madam, I have a word or two for you.

I'm sorry to undermine the false sense of power with which you are attempting to lord over me, threatening to stop buying from us and report me to the owner of the company, but I'm afraid the customer is not always right.  When is there such a case is this?

Well, right now.

We're not going to refund your shipping because our policy - of which you have been well informed, several times - clearly states that when a product is returned, we will refund the item price, minus the shipping.  We already did you a favor by covering the return shipping and having UPS go pick up the product from you.

As for your severe papaya allergy, let me be perfectly clear: OUR PRODUCT DOES NOT HAVE PAPAYA IN IT!  We could not have lied to you about the contents of the beverage, because there is NO PAPAYA in that product, or ANY of our products, ever since the papaya soap was discontinued A YEAR AGO.  And yes, the ingredients are listed right there on the side of the box.  Go get yourself some glasses if you can't see them.

Look, between the returns, the disputed payments on the products you still have, and the measly ten dollars an hour I'm being paid to attempt to reason with you, you're actually costing us more money than you're bringing in.

Do you know what that means?

Bite me.



**siiiiigh**  I wish I had the moxy to actually say that on the phone.

Shady Shawn, Victor Viagra, Ungrateful Ugbert and Clara Colonoscopy, Meet Stanley Stoner.

Today I met god.  He lives in New York.  I called him from work to tell him we weren't able to process his order, because his credit card declined.

Pretty sure he was high.

"The memories," he said in his slow, slurred speech.  "You can't even know the things I remember.  The things I've done."

"Um... oh?" I responded as visions of serial killers and/or vampires flashed through my mind.  I double checked his location - New York was pretty far away, but I'd still better not give him a reason to take a sudden interest in Utah.

"What would you think," he asked, his voice holding a hint of plea, "if I was the only man on earth?  The only one.  What would you think?"

Gulp.  "Um, well, I think that would be very interesting."

"Interesting," he responded.  It sounded like he was caressing the word, turning it around and around in his hands.  "I like how you said that.  Interesting."

This was about the point where I considered saying, "What?  I'm sorry, what was that?  I can't hear you.  I think your phone is-" *hang up*  But, he continued. 

"Do you know about King Tut?"

This was weird, but definitely less creepy.  "King Tut?  Yeah, of course!"

"King Tut was small and frail.  Tut was actually a girl disguised as a boy."

"Wow... that's cool."  I jumped onto google to see what snopes had to say about that one.  Nothing.  I couldn't find anything of the sort.

"You know the pyramid of Giza?"

"Yep.  I know that one too."

"That's mine."

Heh... yeah.  I must truly be in the presence of - or at least on the phone with - someone great.  Good think he's a fairly safe 3,000 miles away.

I made sure I had a pleasant smile in my voice, to possibly conceal any hint of irony.  "The whole pyramid!  Wow.  How does that work?"

"I know.  It sounds ludicrous, right?  But you have to accept who I am.  Don't ever lie to me, because I will know immediately.  I am the man.  You have to accept that.  I'm not getting older.  I will be young for eternity.  I am all-powerful."

**blinkblink**

"Wow."

"I have to find the right woman.  I have to choose a girl very, very carefully, and I need to stay out of the spotlight.  Do you know Kim Kardashian?"

"Yeeeeaaaaahhhhh..."

"I would never choose Kim Kardashian.  She's a fool's choice.  A woman who gets married to another man, in the spotlight.  No.  She's not right for me.  Do you know Brad Pitt?"

"Ummmm..."

"Remember when all the women said he was the sexiest man alive?  That's me."

"Wow."

"I need you to call me back.  Later today, in the afternoon.  Can you call me?"

The correct answer would be, "I'm sorry, Sir, but my shift is over, and as soon as I finish here, I'm going to the Northern Mariana Islands.  Also, it's my last day.  I got a new job plucking geese for head dresses to be worn at the next Ascot races." 

What I found myself saying was, "Oh, sure.  Of course.  Whatever you want."

Could it be he really is all-powerful?

Oh dear...

What happens when a wizard gives me the ability to time travel... part 1.

Last night I was having a conversation with my good old friend, Kunkee.  We talked about a lot of stuff, including the Persian Empire.  He's been studying this a lot, thanks to his Civ class, and it really struck me how very little we know.  Sure, we have historical records, and some archaeological stuff, but really, how much do we actually know about that 2500 year old civilization?

Which, of course, leads to the question: how much will the world know about our civilization in another 2500 years?  We discussed it a little bit, and I brought up the point that everything in this world is digital.  Kunkee added that not only is information all digital, but most of our civilization is very transient.  Glass and steel skyscrapers don't last like brick and stone, and wood doesn't last at all.  Heck, a couple years ago we had to replace the siding on the house I grew up in because it was rotting away, and we built that house when I was nine!  I've driven by so many barns built 100 years ago, and there's not much left - covered in vines with trees growing through the roof, falling boards, only the bare frame of a building.  Can you imagine what will be left of our world in a thousand years?  Two thousand?

My main concern is the digitization, though.  I mean, how long can it last?  The information is stored on hard drives, which, honestly, I'm lucky if I can get a jump drive to survive 5 years.  Hard copies of things are becoming more and more rare.  Who sends snail mail anymore?  Newspapers still exist but they're becoming less used and will probably give way to online news in a very short time.  And don't even get me started on ebooks. 

So, with that question burning in my mind, I feigned exhaustion, kicked Kunkee out, and slipped into my room to perform some simple magic.  A few years ago, I came across a wizard.  He was a nut.  That's the thing about magic.  If you're not careful with it, you might accidentally transform yourself into something you don't want to be - in his case, a cashew.

Now, being a cashew, he really couldn't do anything about it.  He still had his mind intact (his form of transformation allowed for that, though don't ask me how, because I still can't figure out where he put his mind when he was shaped like a crescent rat turd), so he was able to cast simple spells.  Anything more complicated than manipulating the elements generally called for a potion or at the very least a staff to channel the magic, so he was very much stuck.

To make a long story short (so we can get on to the longer story), I discovered him and didn't eat him, because I loathe nuts with a burning passion, and through a series of really scary moments where he tried manipulating the elements to tell me he wasn't actually a nut (don't even get me started on the time he created a tornado in the toilet), I discovered his wizardness and was able to use his potion brewing manual to turn him back into a human. 

He offered me my choice of his amulets as a thank you for preventing him from being roasted, salted and stuck in a jar (if that had happened his only defense would have been to spell the jar's lid so not even Tarzan could pry it off).  I had a rough time choosing between flight and time travel, but finally settled on the latter so that I could go visit a seven year old Clarke and try to convince him he was actually a Tanzanian peasant that got misplaced by his mother, carried off by a man-eating tanager, rescued by monkeys in Brazil, kidnapped from the monkeys by American poachers, and sold on the black market, where he was bought by our parents who thought he was a doll and bought him as a toy for me to play with, which makes me their favorite, so nyah.  Unfortunately, when I tried to tell him all of that, he explained that was impossible, because tanagers are from the thraupidae family, which is far too small to carry off a baby, and even though they are an omnivorous species, their meat eating tendencies do not extend past insects.

Anyway, back to the original story, the wizard gave me the time travel amulet, and I now visit him around the holidays, where we sing Christmas carols, drink spiced cider and eat enchanted fudge.

So, last night, I decided to use my time travel amulet to answer my own question.  How much would mankind of the future know about our civilization?

I clutched the amulet to my chest, and decided on a date.  I decided to make it in spring so that if something went wrong and I had to stay for a couple months or so, I wouldn't have to deal with winter.  One never knows what they'll find in the future.  With the date chosen, I repeated it over and over in my mind.

April 25 (not too hot, not too cold - all you'll need is a light jacket!), 4512.  April 25, 4512.  April 25, 4512.  April...

As the world melted around me, I realized I had forgotten that's it's impossible to know whether or not the space you are occupying is going to be occupied by something else in 2500.5 years.

That's why traveling to the future is almost never a good idea.


To be continued...