Arranging the words on your screens.

Well, physics and website encoding isn't that difficult, is it?
Once you've got the hang of it, and if you're good at learning things (which I think I am), all you need is time, interest, dedication, and a healthy dose of obsession.

No, the more difficult, the more challenging things are things in the abstract. Like writing is, for me. There is probably very few things I'd rather do in the world, but at the same time, it's so immensely difficult, and such a painful process.

So instead of spending what's left of my days (steadily depleting) figuring out physics once and for all, or finding a whole to the messy bits that is website encoding - or nerdily enough, re-learning calculus - I figured I should spend more time making myself write things. Maybe I'll figure out a method to the madness, and writing would be less distressing once I've figured out why it's painful, or the little personal quirks that makes writing easy. Analyse how sentences come to my head, and then use it. In short, figure out a system to make writing easier, like I've formed a system for learning things that are less abstract.

I don't believe I can't be better through smart analysis, steely will, and brute effort.

Insufferable.

I went to meet old friends yesterday, and when I overheard one of them, now situated in one of Russia's medical universities, telling another that the currency in Russia is the rouble, I sort of butted in, the way you do into conversations, saying that I didn't know Russia still uses the rouble, because I read some old Russia literature (Doestovsky/War and Peace), 17th or 18th century I think, which used the rouble. I'd thought they'd have changed it after the Russian revolution.

Then after a bit, I realised how that made me seem like a showoff, a massive twat. Throwing in your knowledge of Russian literature AND adding in the revolution bit at the end? What a dick, right? I then cower in fear and self-loathing, and had, still have, an inner monologue, playing both the parts of the crucifier and the wheedling accused. In my subconscious quest for absolute clarity, I often mention my thoughts and how I came to have them (it does sounds a bit cocky otherwise - why do you say you didn't know Russia still uses the rouble?), and I'm a nerd who prefers books over most human interactions, so odd vocabulary and esoteric knowledge tend to slip out, even though I must say a lot of said esoteric knowledge comes from the most frivolous sources - the revolution bit comes from watching Disney's Anastasia one too many times when I was small. I'm like Reid, from Criminal Minds, who when sharing information or in normal conversation comes off as having read too much. So I fear I might come off as an insufferable prick too often, when I don't feel that I'm better than everyone else because I know more things, and should show it off. But I read what I read, and I know what I know, and stopping those things from slipping out is too much of an effort, and is a sort of duplicity that I instantly want to rebel against anyway.

So in short, yes, I'm trying to work at being less awkward (where does one start?), but it'll be nice if you'll excuse this knowledge-dropping which might occasionally get on nerves. There's just so many self-deprecating jokes one remembers to insert whenever I feel like mentioning something a 20 year old 'shouldn't know', especially when I'm excitedly in a conversation. Oh, you must excuse me.

Yes, I do realise I might be overthinking things, as I'm very wont to do apparently, and they know me long enough to excuse this as inept social skills, not bragging, or they didn't even notice. But the fact that I noticed it grates on my nerves.

"Rome's finest snappers are again being portrayed on film as Woody Allen shoots his decidedly Fellini-esque comedy Bop Decameron in the city – with the difference that Allen has opted to cast the city's real life paparazzi to play the part.

"Being paid by a celebrity to take pictures of a celebrity was unusual," said Vitaliano Napolitano, a 20 year, moped riding veteran of Rome's celebrity circuit. "And it became surreal when paparazzi not involved in the film showed up on set to snap us paparazzi as we played paparazzi in the film."

Woody Allen's lesson in mindfuck.

excerpt from The Guardian.

Insanity.

I think I'm going crazy. I'm actually having short, one-sided conversations with my modem - calling it a bastard, whatnot.

This blog might turn out to be a document of my slow decline to insanity, induced by Internet problems and a cruel world.

Streamyx.

My internet connection has become predictably unreliable, seemingly calculated to drive me crazy with the pent-up frustration.

It would go on a predictable, 4-hour round of instability periodically throughout the day, everyday. Well it'll do you good to use the Internet less anyway, some of you might sneer, but this is ridiculous, because WE'RE PAYING FOR CONTINUOUS SERVICES. This can be said to be a blatant rip-off, violation of service standards, whathaveyou legal jargons. It's ridiculous when the hours it's actually usable chalks up to being less than the hours where the DSL light on the modem is bloody BLINKING. It's simply unjust when you're paying for something you don't get; it's illegal, and must be nipped in the bud (though I'm quite sure this problem has moved beyond the 'bud' stage).

After this exam I have, if this keeps up, I'm going to muster up the persistence to do battle with them. It's a matter of justice and fairness that I do. I might get dad to stop paying the internet bills until something is done, but I'll most likely just pull my classic Get Dad to Yell At People for Providing Crappy Services. The second one ALWAYS works like a charm to smash through stupid bureaucracy.

(of course I wouldn't be writing this bile if I haven't been through several rounds of phone calls with their customer service department. They promised a technician, but so far, zilch. My problem has apparently been solved, too. But i think it actually got worse.
How I wish I'm in a country with better customer rights.)

Postscript

By the way, for those of you over the targeted age group, I exhort you to buy The Princess Diaries for your teenage nieces and daughters.

You wouldn't think it's anything but frivolous (being about princesses and being so very pink), and the dialogue will probably irritate you if you're over 16, but it's also a great source of odd information.

From the series, I know that:

- if you're in New York City, bagels are the things you should go for.
(my God, come to think of it, if I'm at NYC, I'd consider doing nothing but eating and rambling around their streets)
- the whole of Yellowstone Park being a caldera (a really really dangerous volcano), and it will explode any time soon.
- movies like Blade Runner are dystopic movies, and they happen to be very good.
- a lot of stuff about science.
- the french for grandmother is 'grandmere'.
- Dolphins might die if you don't snip your plastic six-pack holders.
- a lot of environmental, PETA things.
- a bunch of vocabulary.
- information about some good books that led me to reading them.

And these are jut the things I am coming up with off-the-cuff; plenty other bits of information that pops up intuitively when I need them.

Bless.

And I don't need to tell you about Harry Potter of course. Because they're just good.