December 06, 2006

Paper paper paper. Paper papery paper paper.

That's been my answer for the last two days when anyone asks me what I'm doing. Whether it actually is what I'm doing at any given point, it's what I'm thinking. It's now due on Friday before I leave for Los Angeles, which isn't nearly as panic-worthy as being due on Thursday, but is still a respectably horrific state for a 15-page research paper on incredibly detailed minutiae about 2-million-year-old stone tools. If you ever thought that far antiquity must be vague because it's so hard to find out anything about it, I am here to tell you that is not the case. The less we know, the more we talk about the position of the 56-cm block of basalt in relation to the antelope horn fragments and how many toothmarks are in the bones located 37.2 meters to the northeast.

So. Paper. For the second night in a row I'm sitting in the drafty study room of my house*, bundled up in hoodie and blanket and hobo gloves, dazedly drinking tea and flipping through a stack of books, articles, notes, and a French-English dictionary which is just what I suppose I deserve for picking a site found by a French dude. There's a picture tacked to the wall in front of me, of me as a stick figure holding a book titled âSome Fucking Thing About Old Rocksâ. I got cold a few minutes ago and pulled my hood over my head. Then I realized that my fingertips were the only part of my body really showing and colored them in with a purple marker so I could be a slightly grape-scented ninja.

When I minimize the window in which I'm writing my paper, it shows up in my taskbar with my paper title somewhat truncated. It's the Acheulean, really, but what it calls itself is âOldowan-Acheâ. The first time I saw it it was like a revelation. I do have an Oldowan Ache. It hurts me right in the sleep gland.

*This is now a lie. I'm currently getting ready for bed and obsessing to my roommate about how tiny raisin toast is more delicious than normal-sized raisin toast. I wrote this post earlier, in the study room, where I didn't bring my wireless internet card so that I wouldn't distract myself writing blog entries.

Posted by dianna at December 6, 2006 01:04 AM

You know, i agree with you on the raisins. I can't say why, though.

Night night!

Posted by: Ping at December 6, 2006 02:06 AM

See, Kye and I disagree over this. I say that hilariously-sized food in general is more delicious than reasonably-sized food. He says that it only holds if the hilarious size is a hilariously small size, as in the tiny raisin bread. I maintain that while exceptions should be made for oversized camp food which is simply sad and suspicious, in general enormous food is at least hilarious and at most unusually delicious.

Posted by: Dianna at December 6, 2006 09:46 AM

I sound the same as you, except I go "grant granty grant..." and I've also been working on it for the entire semester. Why am I not done yet? Good question.

p.s. I no longer a simple lurker.

Posted by: Kim at December 6, 2006 11:57 AM

When you joined the grape-scented ninja clan, did you pick up their age-old feud with the orange-scented pirate crew?
Poor orange-scented pirates. Irony has dealt them a scurvy hand.

Posted by: Jacob at December 6, 2006 12:02 PM

It's funny you should mention it. A pirate walked into my house today with a giant bag of oranges, put them down right on the kitchen table, and turned and walked back out. It was clearly a challenge, and I for one will not stand by and let it go unanswered. That scurvy bastard is going to get juiced.

As it turns out, I'm not making up this incident. One of the guys doing the produce delivery from Central Kitchen to my house today was in fact dressed in full and impressive pirate regalia. No explanations, but then, they would only have detracted from the moment.

Posted by: Dianna at December 6, 2006 04:20 PM

Based on my experience with hilariously huge cookies, I would have to say that I agree with Kye that huge size does not necessarily make things taste better.

My prior work along these lines, however, may be skewed by the fact that Mark Bittman hates sugar, and I was using his recipe to make these cookies. Thus: Huge substandard cookies do not taste notably better than normal substandard cookies. I leave open the possibility, however, that huge tasty cookies taste better than normal-sized tasty cookies.

Posted by: Zach at December 6, 2006 06:00 PM