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Huh. The Gender Genie mostly thinks even my whiny emo posts were written by a guy. I honestly didn't expect that.

Its accuracy stats as a whole are way lower than the creators predicted, but I wonder how much of that is due to people trying hard to fool it. I kind of wanted to, but wasn't trying to per se; I just copy-pasted all of the sufficiently long posts I could find.
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1. My username is ____ because ____.
2. My journal is titled ____ because ____.
3. My subtitle is ____ because ____.
4. My friends page is called ____ because ____.
5. My default userpic is ____ because ____.

When I created this journal I spent a lot of time thinking of possible usernames, to what turned out to be very little avail. What I wanted was an at least vaguely apropos single-word abstract concept that started with V, but every sufficiently interesting one I could think of turned out to be taken. After much frustration, I finally decided to just add a couple extra Vs to one of the ones I'd already tried. (Since then I've discovered, to my extreme annoyance, that [livejournal.com profile] vexation has in fact never made a bloody post nor even used the account to post comments.)

And then I went hog-wild with the V theme, which is why my journal is titled "Vainglorious Vicissitudes: The Vertiginous Void of Vacuous Verbosity" and my friends page is "Vaster Vistas, or the Vagaries of Various Vagabonds"--and also why my comment links count the "valid views" of those who "venture to verbalize."

My default userpic is from a Spamusement cartoon by Steven Frank; it's the only one of my icons that doesn't purport to be a picture of me, except that for all intents and purposes it is a picture of me. Anyone who's ever scritched behind my ears knows this already.
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Of all the sentence-memes of this form, this is the only one I'm willing to cop to so publicly:

If, as you live your life, you find yourself mentally composing LJ entries about it, post this exact same sentence in your Live Journal.

The sad thing is, I never end up posting most of them. (See my previous entry and the comments thereto for reasons why.)

Rgh

Jun. 7th, 2005 01:42 am
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Tempting. Very tempting. But really, it's a totally unjustifiable expenditure. I wouldn't want it even this much if it weren't being dangled in front of me.

Ah well. If any of you-all wanted a permanent account and didn't already know where to get one, now you do.
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Some of the more amusing results, or snippets thereof, from running my journal through the LJ Markov chain:

8. Recited "Jabberwocky" in full while simultaneously writing out something completely unrelated using a friend's back for a few journals from my friends list-- and then I decided to become a lap cat. I'd consider this a thoroughly positive development were it not for the rest of her life,

Sometimes I amuse myself in unexpected ways. Today I saw a magazine cover that said "DAMS: Who needs them?" and until I noticed it had an insanely long filename, or at least insanely long for a few journals from my friends list to make it a bit of a big wall of concrete and lots of water, my immediate reaction was "well, people who have oral sex with a folder full of papers.

I'm doing this for the IRS to care about. 7. Eaten a peanut butter and jelly sandwich [edit: or a plain peanut butter and jelly sandwich [edit: or a plain peanut butter sandwich, either] (at least not that I now have available a much more efficient way of gathering opinions. Not that I'll ever be able to wave this in my life,

"Infinite monkeys typing on infinite typewriters might be able to vent all my frustrations here, but the mother's: "It'll be CPS's business if you want me to re-post a cleaner version.

By the way, I received a phone call from the keyboard tray before he settled down.


And a couple that might have some deeper meaning if you squint:

I dropped eye contact and seethed for a few moments, but her next words, an assertion that she'd treat her child how she wanted and I'd better not look at her like that, sounded to me like a treadmill of futility.

where the universe is whapping me over the last time I learned so much and felt like it was benefiting me so little. Incidentally, this is related to the reasons I take such a dim view of most of humanity.
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Rrgh. I seem to be in one of those phases where the universe is whapping me over the head with information, and yet I can't figure out what to do with it.

Specifically, over the last few weeks I've been gently poked from all directions in ways that have cracked my head open just enough to clarify all kinds of things about myself that I hadn't been fully aware of before--but the problem is that the things I've learned are all whys and not hows. I keep sitting here going "okay, now I know why I have this one problem, but how do I stop having it?" I can't remember the last time I learned so much and felt like it was benefiting me so little.

Incidentally, this is related to the reasons I've been posting less and posting with less content. A year ago I was able to vent all my frustrations here, but the frustrations have remained basically the same since then, and I feel like venting about them again without having successfully done anything to fix them verges on whining and would be awfully tiresome for those around me.

I'm not sure this post has much point. It is in part an attempt to let myself vent again a little now that I at least have something slightly new to vent about.
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Once again, I've dropped a few journals from my friends list to make it a bit more manageable; once again, I'll add them back if their owners ask. And once again, although the correlation was unintentional, I've done this right after vacuuming the apartment.
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De-friended a few journals I haven't been reading much (or that haven't been posting much). Will re-friend if asked.

In a similar vein, this apartment has finally been vacuumed. Yay.
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Dammit, after making that last post and jotting down the notes I came out here to jot down, I was supposed to go back to reading. Clearly I need to be locked in a small room with all my history books and a computer that has nothing but Word on it.

I find it amusing, however, that having a large project I ought to be working on is apparently just the thing to get me posting on LJ again.
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A couple of nights ago, I had the first LiveJournal-related dream I can ever remember having, and it was fairly interesting. I dreamed I was reading a post someone had made in [livejournal.com profile] blog_sociology describing a "challenge" they'd participated in: they were to spend a week not blogging about blogging. That week, they'd made only three posts to their personal journal: a post at the beginning of the week saying "yeah, I'm doing that challenge thing people have been talking about"; a post in the middle of the week saying "this sucks!"; and a post at the end saying "yay, I'm glad that's over." In other words, not only had they been completely at a loss for anything to blog about once they stopped blogging about blogging, but they'd also not been able to keep themselves from blogging about not blogging about blogging.

I think my subconscious is grossly exaggerating. I certainly don't think anyone in that community is actually so absorbed in meta-analysis that they don't have anything else to talk about--but the idea is amusing, and it also amuses me to be sitting here blogging about people blogging about not blogging about blogging.

Now, my only question is: should I post this over in [livejournal.com profile] blog_sociology?
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Aaaaand a few minutes after my last post, I check my friends list and find a post forcing me to delve into the reasons I haven't been journaling in considerably more detail. Someone had written: "I find myself writing less lately because I feel as though I'm not getting much of a response or that people just don't care about what I have to say. Have any of you experienced this problem?" So, of course, I was obliged to respond, in part:

I write partly for myself and partly for my friends, but the basic problem is similar; I've been feeling less motivated to write for myself but also feeling that no one will be interested in what I write, and oddly enough the two feelings seem to be so closely linked that I have trouble telling them apart. I think that's because when I write for myself I think of my future self reading what I write in the same way that I would think of my friends reading it, and right now I keep thinking both of those hypothetical audiences won't care.


I further realized, though I didn't add, that this in turn is part of the dangerous trend toward solipsism and even nihilism that my brain has been taking lately: I don't feel like I or anyone else oughta care about things because nothing really matters in the grand scheme of things anyway. This isn't stopping me from getting work done or making long-term plans (no, plenty of other things are stopping me from doing that, as always), but it does have some rather eerie feelings associated with it--like having a hard time believing any of my friends really exist whenever I'm alone, and having a hard time believing any of the things I remember ever really happened.

This is actually getting scary of late. I've always (or at least since I was a teenager) had brief flashes of this mental state from time to time, but it's never been so pervasive or long-lasting as it is now. I'm worried that it's gotten permanently etched into my brain chemistry or something. I want to change it but I have no idea how. Frankly, if I were a suicidally inclined sort of person, I think this might push me over the edge if it didn't improve in another year or two.

(Let me hasten to state now that I never have inclined that way. I think that's due to luck more than anything else, but I'm glad of it--and if that fact ever changes, I will certainly tell people. I'm not sure what there is to be scared of, psychologically, if I'm not scared of that--but somehow I'm still scared.)
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I haven't been in a writing mood for a while. In fact, it's tough for me to even write down that I haven't been in a writing mood. It's not that less has been going on, it's just that I've somehow quit feeling motivated to write any of it out. This worries me a little because they always say losing interest in things is a symptom of depression, and while I don't feel (I think) any more depressed than I did a few months ago, I have been losing interest in a hell of a lot of things. I have no idea what to do about it, though, or if anything needs to be done. But I figured I'd write this just so I don't appear to have fallen down a mineshaft or something.
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I've just gone back and privatized (because I hate to delete things completely) a handful or two of old entries that were time-dependent and wouldn't be of any interest to anyone reading them now (they were mostly along the lines of "can anyone give me a ride to X tonight?"). I'm announcing this in case anybody feels the need to protest and demand them back. Somehow I doubt anyone will.
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I was just going back over some old entries and discovered that one of them, which I'm certain got two or three comments when I posted it, now has none. I don't think it's at all likely that the people who posted them went to the trouble of going back and deleting them way after the fact; they were innocuous comments to an innocuous entry, and besides, I seem to recall replying to at least one of them--if the comment I replied to had been deleted by the poster, my reply should still be there. And it doesn't make any more sense to think that someone would hack into my account just to delete all the comments on a random and not very noteworthy entry and leave everything else, including the entry itself and the surrounding ones, alone.

So, I seem to be facing a very weird LJ glitch. I wonder if I should alert TPTB. I'm always reluctant to go to the authorities about something like this--after all, it's not like I've lost anything really important, right?...and the folks running this site already have plenty to do. But then again, data loss of any kind is disturbing and should be looked into on principle, ne?
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I've got this whole day stretching ahead of me in which I ought to be able to Get Stuff Done, yet every time I contemplate embarking on a task that will take more than a couple of minutes to complete, or has multiple steps to it, I freak out and can't even make myself take the first step. I don't know if this is ADD or simply an offshoot of the depression I've had to admit has been reemerging lately, but either way it's pretty messed up and leaves me terribly frustrated.

I feel like I may just fly to pieces. That sounds more ADDish, really; the depression comes on when I let myself think about anything long-term. Like what the hell I'm going to be doing with my life in a few short months.

Either way, the stupid meds aren't doing anything except making me vaguely nauseous, and possibly worsening the arrhythmia.

I hate knowing that my life is better than it's ever been in a number of ways and yet still feeling that overall it sucks worse than ever. I've grown so much as a person--how can I possibly be at such a dead end when it comes to basic survival? Why can't I be good at the things that seem to matter in the Real World? And why do those things have to matter so damn much?

I'm oversimplifying. And I'm not specifying a lot of what's going on school-wise because I'm not ready to talk about it. So basically I'm just wanking here. Being a stereotypical self-indulgent LJer and shit. But then what is this medium for, right?

I shouldn't be so damn self-conscious anyway. I oughta shut the fuck up and just post this before I get off on the very tempting meta-tangent of analyzing why the hell this post is so much choppier than my normal writing style.
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I haven't been posting this week because I'm way behind on friends-list reading and I've always had this strange notion that I shouldn't post when there's still reading to do. It's very silly, really. I should try to remedy that.

Thing is, sitting in a library makes me feel less inclined to wax eloquent than when I'm comfortable at home. Probably the fact that I tend to get up and walk around a lot when I'm writing a long post has something to do with that--I can't really get up and walk around here without appearing to have abandoned my computer.

I can, however, share the fact that I seem, through some amazing good fortune (as I certainly wasn't paying attention to this when I chose them), to have signed up for two classes offered by completely unrelated departments that just happen to be meeting one after the other in the very same room. This is only a small bit of good news compared with the large amount of potentially bad (as in, cross your fingers and pray) news I've been getting about this year's student loans. But the nice thing about a little spark of goodness like this is that I can parlay it into a Sign From Above (or Outside, or West, or somewhere) that things will work out somehow.
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Do I get some kinda booby prize for using the words ass, fuck, and shit in the space of three sentences?

I must really be grumpy. I think that's some kinda record.

(On LJ, that is. When I'm speaking, expletives fall from my mouth quite naturally, but during the second or two it takes to write them out I fairly often decide not to bother including them.)

Meta-meme

Jun. 11th, 2004 08:49 pm
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What amuses me most about the silly Russian sausage meme that went around yesterday is the fact that the guy I caught it from apparently deleted it almost immediately after it was posted, just as I did--and so did the person he'd gotten it from and the three people before that. In other words, five of us in a row were apparently checking our friends list so often that we each caught this post during a very brief window of existence. Are we all LJ-obsessed, or just a little too quick on the uptake for our own good?

*shakes head*
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Whoa. I just glanced at my Recent Entries page and the poll I posted a while ago was showing up in some Cyrillic language or other. Then I refreshed and it was in English again.

Has this been a night of strange portents, or what?
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Yay! My 100th friend-of!

(Though it does feel a teeny bit illegitimate, since #100 is someone who wouldn't've known of my existence if I hadn't friended them. Ah well. I know at least some of y'all stumbled on me randomly and for some reason thought I was nifty, and that is good to know.)

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