insouciance (n.)
by disillusioned
(630 views) - 9/18/06
(recorded 9/18/06 @ 4:37:39 AM)
What a busy weekend it has been.

I really wish I'd have more time to write. (Read this as: I wish I'd appropriate my laziness time more efficiently.)

I want to write a lot more, just because I have a ton of things on my mind, and I worry that I sometimes drone my poor girlfriend's ear off. I just choose to believe she finds it charming.

Lots going on this weekend, in the best of ways. After work on Friday, Alison and I decided to make a run to the game, before the season ends. We hit up some nice lower-level seats, and had some tasty ballpark food.

We followed the remarkably short (though, we did win) game up with hookah. Zach and his friend Josh joined us, where we made the decision to jump up to the cottage, impromptu.

We made the arrangements, and flew up there (so literally that Payson's finest took issue with my 49 in a 35, but only to a degree of a warning) by around 1:30a. A fantastic time with fire, some light treasons drinking, and basic good times all around.

Saturday evening culminated in a lot of fun bar-hopping times. Pool, hot dogs, "dancing," whistling, fire and all that jazz. Quite awesome indeed.

I've been getting more and more into McSweeney's Quarterly Concern, an amazing piece of awesome fiction-cum-literary-magazine that's published every 3 months or so. I subscribed to a year for $50, and they sent me their $16 "Better of" book. Just the copyright pages (which play the role of a letter form the editor) were enough to hook me. The writing is clever, dynamic, diverse, and engaging. It's running the gamut from everything to anything with grace and brilliance. Anyone interested is encouraged to contribute, under the guise of:
Subject matters encouraged for submissions (use of one or more of these subject matters will endear you and your writing to our editors):
Caves; balloons; balloons stuck in caves, and unhappy about it; balloons living in caves, and feeling good about it; large trees with people living in them; wind; gold; talking animals who only speak Spanish; men who live in caves; women who live in caves; chairs that are too big; houses that are too big; holes that people fall into; geysers; holes that are deep but are too narrow for people to fall into; volcanoes; things that are round and flat; things that are small but emit loud noises; clouds that appear in bedrooms, over beds, during sleep; waterfoxes, landwhales and riverkittens; planets covered with yellow water; old men who run very fast; old men with two-by-fours for feet; birds with arms instead of wings; people with very long fingers, the bones of which are too brittle to use; how things are made in factories; how things are made in factories in Africa; how things were made in factories in Africa between 1939 and 1945; giant people who carry small purses; small people who drag from place to place large knapsacks full of pullows; anything at all about the ocean monkeys of the former Upper Volta; anything at all about the Hand People of Franz Josefland; anything about the furry, self-propelling rocks of the Dakotas; anything at all about anyone named Lucy, Isabbel, Paulina, Geoffrey, or Will; anything mentioning the pre-1990 Jonathan Pryce or (tastefully) incorporating former Congressman Fred Grandy; and anything at all about the Swamp Women of Lourdes.
or something similar.

You get the idea. I've been aching for some really good writing for sometime, that's not as commital as a novel or some such, though I've been slamming through whatever I received from my Amazon wishlist, thankyouverymuch. Anyway, Better Of included the first four issue's copyright/letters-from-editor and it got me wanting to look at the previous issues.
Issue one had a run of 2,500, which cost $4,109 to print (approx. $1.64 a copy.) Shipping to and from Iceland, where this was most assuredly printed, was about $1,400, bringing the total bill to about $5,509, which was offset in part by a meaningful donation by one of journal's contributors, but the majority of which was fronted by the makers of McSweeney's, who sincerely believe they will break even, according to the following math: After giving away a good number of copies to those we wish to impress and our deadbeat friends, we expect to sell somewhere in the neighborhood of 1,400 copies through bookstores and mail-order solicitations. At $8 a pop, we take home between $6 (mail-order) and $4 (bookstores) per, which means about $7,500 in revenue, giving us a tidy little profit about $1,991, which we plan to Invest Responsibly in the Stock Market. This journal was typeset using a small group of fonts that you already have on your computer, with software you already own.
See what I mean? Or am I the only one even vaguely amused by this sort of thing?

Either way, it becomes quickly apparent that older issues are not available in any fantastic quantity. So when I located a lot on eBay of issues 4-19, I snatched it up, knowing individual issues easily net $30-$80+, depending on their rarity; letting my credit card take the hit. (For I have but $134.80 in my primary checking account.) That's what it's there for, if nothing else. Live richly, as the fine individuals at Citicard charing me 28.99% APR tell me. Fortunately, I'm not maintaining an active, interest-bearing balance with the bastards anymore.

I've installed the latest update to Windows Vista, RC1. It's awfully tasty, stable and well-executed, but Creative's sound card drivers suck, and I still can't get reliable sound through my digital audio port, so I'm back in XP for now.

And I have something like 14 tabs in Firefox, many redundant, including Digg, Fark, cruise-related searches on eBay, searching for another phone holster like my current (dead) one, a 404, the phone holster company's web site, my project tracking system site, the Wiki the current MOTD is pointing to, this very Add An Entry page, a Google search for insousiance, a Mozilla page for a new search engine in the toolbar (for Dictionary.com, which I prefer to MW) and the Dictionary.com result for insouciance:
in‧sou‧ci‧ance  /ɪnˈsusiəns; Fr. ɛ̃suˈsyɑ̃s/ Pronunciation Key - Pronunciation[in-soo-see-uhns; Fr. an-soo-syahns] Pronunciation Key -
noun
the quality of being insouciant; lack of care or concern; indifference.

[Origin: 1790–1800; < F; see insouciant, -ance]
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.0.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.
Because I'm nothing, if not thorough.

And to those wondering: Cisco is still kicking, sometimes literally. Aside from the slightly bum hip, he's doing "okay," but I know it won't last a terrible amount of time, here.
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