krisis

Interestingly enough, college cafeteria food cured me of my thinness, to a degree. I basically kept up my picky eating through Senior yea of high school; basically, i had lost my appreciation of food. I eventually got over wanting a turkey sandwhich with lunch or chicken cutlets for dinner, but i had never really picked a favourite meal that i could replace them with. I didn’t enjoy eating anymore. I entered college a very thin boy. And, while i found myself rather attractive in that flat-chested supermodel way, no one else really was interested in me past asking me if i had weight problems.

That changed rather soon, all thanks to cafeteria food. Much in the same way that i can’t resist conquering things that i can easily conquer (a-hem, no need to give examples, eh?), i cannot resist what i percieve to be a free meal. And, having already paid in full for my meal plan, every meal seemed free. I ate eggs or waffles every day for all of my first term, and usually had dinner every night before rehearsal. This didn’t show up on my body during that term (waist-size for tailoring the fall play: 26″), but by the end of a similarly scheduled winter term it had started to. By spring term i had broke my favourite corduroy pants wide open and nearly did the same thing to my favourite pair of vinyl before taking pity on them and giving them to a (female) friend. It turns out i had put on over twenty pounds. 20lbs!!

Of course, it also turned out that all i was eating was carbs and dairy (pasta, pizza, cheese hoagies, waffles, cereal), which meant the weight didn’t actually distribute itself so much as collect in flabby pockets. Well, obviously not flabby (i wasn’t exactly breaking the scale) so much as pudgy, but either way it wasn’t the tone that i sorta used to have. I wasn’t especially pleased, but i liked feeling filled out so i just dealt with it.

wow, i crashed both my computers in the same ten minutes and it took this long to restart. i got da skillz!

scarius from shafted says this in his most recent post:

However, I suspect that with enough thought I could come up with a definition of what makes a Lego-Block a Lego-Block and not a Lego-Gear or even a Lego-Beam. It’d take a while, but I think it could be done. It’d probably involve having lots of rules regarding various facets of the piece including function, shape, and connections. Similarly, most definitions are probably composites, for example you could define Love as some combination of chemical imbalances, behaviors, and mental processes. You’d probably also need some model representing the interplay of strictness and relevance of different facets as pertaining to the classification of a particular object. However, given enough time to think upon the matter, you could probably in this fashion define Love as opposed to Lust or Like just as you could define Lego-Block as opposed to Lego-Beam or Lego-Gear.

One of the most heartbreaking things about moving to school last year was deciding which books came with me and which didn’t. In my room here at home i have a floor to ceiling bookshelf overflowing with all of the paperbacks i’ve ever bought – thousands of dollars worth of print, easily. Last year i had enough room in my dormitory for roughly ten books. I brought The Bell Jar, The Collected Sylvia Plath, The Trick is to Keep Breathing & Foreign Parts (galloway), The Sun the Moon and the Stars (brust), the trio of Dante’s books, and The Secret of Possesing Joy (walker). However, during the year i added quite a few novels to this number, both by bringing them from home and buying them. When i moved out on Friday i took with me The Beach & Tesseract (both Garland), 3 X-Men books (golden), The Right Stuff & The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test (wolfe), Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas (Thompson), everything Hitchhikers (Adams, one by Gaiman), Neverwhere (also Gaiman), and The Death and Life of Superman. Of these, i’ve elected a scant few to stay on the bookshelf in my new apartment. Considering that i’ve (re-)read them all in the past year this might seem silly, but i enjoy the comfort of having my most cherished words nearby.