Real adventures in fictional locales

Epic in intent, if not in actuality


Anachronism
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I live in the 21st century. I can communicate and exchange information with people across the globe in real via the internet, which I can access wirelessly through my choice of a number of mobile devices. I can stream movies and television shows in high definition to my flat screen TV. I am surrounded by technology that is the heart of yesteryear's science fiction.

And yet, there is one piece of technology that stands head and shoulders above the rest. A device that manages to astound me every single day with its flawless execution. The thermos. Technology that's over a century old still impresses me more than the fact that I can watch breaking news coverage on my mobile phone while standing at a bus stop. I guess I place a high value on the ability to have my coffee hot half a day after I brew it. 

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By the numbers
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I have five quarters (including the current one) left until I graduate.

That is (approximately) 137 class sessions.

Or (roughly) 365 hours of class.

In other words, the equivalent of 15 days of class time.

Which, when compared to the amount of time I've already spent in school, is practically nothing....
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Age is just number
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I spent the weekend in Vegas with some former UW classmates, who are mostly around 22 years old. There were six of us and the following exchange happened more times than I'd like to recall.

Casino dealer/bartender/bouncer, looking at the group: "Alright, I'm going to need to see everyone's ID."

*Looks at me*

"Everyone's except your's."


Ouch.

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My life is not TSA compliant
Happiness
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I miss the old days, when it was possible to pack a bag using only a modicum of common sense and not even think twice about whether or not you'd be allowed on a plane. I'm leaving for a long weekend in Vegas tomorrow and I've already spent the better part of an hour carefully researching the TSA website to ensure that something I regard as totally harmless isn't in fact a TERRORIST WEAPON OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION. I'm pissed that I have to choose between my creature comforts and my wallet by either leaving things at home or paying to check luggage. Either way I can't bring my pipe lighter because it is banned from both carry on and checked baggage and I may or may not get into a debate with TSA agent about whether or not my tamper is/isn't allowed.

I'm starting to really hate air travel. I can't bring what I want. Some poor bastard enforcing nonsensical bureaucratic mandates may or may not be legally obliged to grope me. My default assumption is that I will have to defend my right to carry something in my bag onto the plane because security's default assumption is that I mean harm. And I get to pay loads of money for this heaping pile of indignities.

Some might say that air travel is a privilege and not a right. If I don't like the way they do things, I shouldn't fly. I say those people can go fuck themselves. I am more afraid of some TSA agent on a power trip than I ever will be of terrorists. Air travel is a privilege and dealing with security is part and parcel of that. I understand that. I just don't understand why it has to be so shitty. Why can't we find a way do security in such a way as to make people feel safe, not oppressed.
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This is why no one sees me as much as they would like
Evil
savagejoss
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Never thought I'd say it
Wrath
savagejoss
Stayed up too late working on my final paper for ethics class. Tossed and turned all night, having this bizarre and horrible about a second "secret" final paper that I had forgotten about and so I would now be failing the class.

I miss the bad dreams of childhood. Monsters, boogeymen, falling, being lost. Sure they were terrifying at the time, but they were also creative renditions of legitimate* things to be afraid of. The idea of being rent asunder and consumed by fire breathing ogres is no less unpleasant sounding at age 28 as it was at age 8. Compare that with the grad school version of "I forgot my homework" and it's no contest. Is it too much to ask that if I'm going to have bad dreams that disrupt my sleep that they include some horrific, eldritch horrors that leave me awakening in a cold sweat fearful for my physical wellbeing?





*Legitimate in the sense that as child, being hunted and carved up by angry goblins with rusty knives seemed both a plausible and reasonable possibility in life.

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