Math is good for you.

Let me tell you about the Fucked-to-Fine Quotient. FFQ is a complex representation of a number of factors that can help a person determine just how much he or she has to worry about an Other having designs* on them.

Social Situations
Q(Social)=Fucked/Fine

Fucked= number of times Other makes physical contact (knuckle taps count) + number of interested glances from Other + number of times conversation with Other makes other people awkward+ number of compliments + number of alcoholic drinks you've both had + how many times someone else asks "so, what do you think of Other?"

Fine= number of times Other makes physical contact with someone not you + number of glances that scan entire party + number of times Other makes conversation awkward on his/her own + number of compliments given to rest of party + number of people not you or Other at gathering

For example, my current FFQ(social) is:
(8 + 7 + 3 + 1 + 4 +2)/(1 + 3 + 0 + 0 + 5)
Q= 2.5

The greater the number from 1, the more fucked you are.

---

One-on-One
This one takes a bit more thought, and since it has fewer variables, is generally considered less accurate.

Q(solitary)= Fucked/Fine

Fucked= number of times Other brushes against you while sitting/walking and does NOT pull away (knuckle taps STILL count) + number of times Other compliments you + number of times Other remembers seemingly minute details of previous encounter + number of times Other suggests hanging out again

Fine=Number of times Other brushes against you while sitting/walking and DOES shift away + number of times Other mentions attractiveness of someone else + number of times Other suggests hanging out with general group of friends + number of hours willingly spent in one another's company

The greater the number from 1, the more fucked you are. (DRAFT 2: Allan pointed out that previously it would be possible to divide by zero.)

---

The handy new section of the sidebar will keep you updated on my current FFQ as the semester progresses.

*Designs: Any attraction that will lead to some sort of attachment (crush, desire for a date, drunken pawings). Generally unwanted, hence presence of attraction being labeled "fucked," but rarely it can be considered a good thing. Whether or not you consider yourself fucked is entirely interpretation.

::EDIT::
If he offers to buy you lunch/dinner, add five points to the FFQ.
If you go out to lunch/dinner and he ninjas the check, add ten.

It was like being head-butted by a baby Yeti.

Tom, Peter, and I are driving back in Peter's truck from dinner at The Ram. Tom is bitch. Peter turns a corner, and then keeps going on down a straight road. During turn, Tom smooshes into me and then stays there with his hair tickling my neck and the side of his face against my chest. I tolerate this for a moment, then:

Me: "Tom, hon, you're squishing me."
Tom: *jerks back into upright position* "Sorry! Centrifugal force."
Peter: "We need to call Stephen Hawking, Tom, because you clearly have your own source of gravity. This is a straight road."
Me: "Opportunistic gravity?"
Tom: -_-
Peter: XD
*Peter makes another turn, and Tom rams into me again vindictively.
Me: "...please don't squish my sandwich."
Tom: XD
Peter: "That's two excellent turns of phrase in under a minute!"

In which Wren gets in gear.

Scattergories!

Copy the text below, erase my answers, then use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following. They have to be real places, names, things.. nothing made up! Try to use different answers if the person in front of you had the same 1st initial.. You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl name question.

WHAT IS YOUR NAME? Wren
4 LETTER WORD: Wren
BOY NAME: Walter
GIRL NAME: Wilhelmina
OCCUPATION: Wrangler
A COLOUR: White
SOMETHING YOU WEAR: Wool
BEVERAGE: Wine
FOOD: Wren
SOMETHING FOUND IN A BATHROOM: Whitening toothpaste
PLACE: Wyoming
REASON FOR BEING LATE: Wild dog attack.
SOMETHING YOU SHOUT: WRYYYYYYYYY. D:

It was amazing.

The Dark Knight

If you do not want to have sex with the Joker after seeing this movie, you are far more sane than I am.

That is all.

Happy Half-Naked Thursday!

In which Wren wonders why everyone's so serious about this week's post being rather late.
The original photo can be found http://lh3.ggpht.com/wrendw/SIGXyO1Bw4I/AAAAAAAAAHk/z-Tl1_f1QAo/serious%202.jpg
hAhaHAHaHAhAHAhAHaHA!

Sleep deprivation is lovely.

So I went into Blockbuster to pick up a couple of movies. (I recently decided to give Sunshine another go now that I am mentally prepared for the suicide scene.) I search the New Release wall, Action, Drama, and Horror sections, but cannot find it. Fine. Time to plead.

Dude: "Ready to check out?"
Me: "No, actually, I was trying to find Sunshine, but didn't see it on the wall."
Dude: "Hmmm."
Computer: We have it in!
Dude: "Well, it's definitely on the wall."
Me: "I'll look again. It's very likely I am blind--I've been up for like 28 hours."
Dude: "Sleep blindness is a valid excuse! I'll come help!" :)

Movie found, we amble to the front and begin the check-out process. Daryl walks over, grinning like an idiot.

Daryl: "Wren, guess what I just saw for rent! 2015: Doomsday, the movie.
Dude: "Do you know what it's about?"
Daryl: "Yeah, that's when the Mayan calendar ends."
Dude: *lots of in-depth calendar info here*
Daryl: "But the funny thing is...the calendar is cyclical, so really it probably just starts over again."
Me: "Yeah, but the sensationalist aspect is so much better. After all, I can't justify skipping classes on Friday to go see The Dark Knight if a huge asteriod isn't going to destroy the world in seven years!"
Dudette: *hysterical laughter*
Dude: "That is an excellent rationalization."
Me: "Anyway, if my professor gives me crap I'll just ask him 'why so serious?'"
Dude: ...
Dude: "Nerd!" :D
Me: "Oh, indeed."

Sheesh.

Just spent an hour in the office trying to deal with a networking issue that would have taken five minutes to solve if someone had told me we magically decided to rout all the computers. Got into fight with boss, who insisted the campus server was down and we needed to follow on-call procedures and wake up a bunch of cranky old men. In the meantime, all "of my pretty, essential programs are crashing left and right like Caesar at the hands of the Senate (Et tu, internets?).

What did we actually have to do? Unplug the fucking router for ten seconds. Before today, that was the "yay, students have wireless internet now!" router. Now, it seems to be the "since the office is being torn apart and we all now live in a bunker, it is high time we streamlined the network! :D" router. I follow some cords, discover this fact, and roll my eyes.

"Dude, I fixed it."
"What?"
"The internet. I reset the router."
"How?"
"...I...unplugged it?"
"What, and everything magically works now?"
"Yes, actually."
"Oh."

I COULD HAVE FINISHED MY DRAFT! D=<

(Now I am just left wondering what the office would do without me.)

Dear Mouth:

Since I've spent a good portion of the morning puking into the toilet, I can't help but noticing how much saliva you produce before the actual vomiting takes place. Why is that? Is it to protect my teeth from all the stomach acid about to be ejected from my poor, sore little body?

If so, it's like lube for mouthrape, and I hate my brain for letting myself think this as I stare at Round Two Pancakes.

No love,
The Theravadan Buddhist perception of the body is sometimes scarily accurate.

Happy Half-Naked Thursday!

In which Wren runs out of time and is forced to kick it old-school.

I will cherish this memory until the day I die.

Dispatcher and I made two cheerleaders run at breakneck speed across campus last night. They got sick of waiting to be let into their room and left to "come get the key themselves." We arrived after they were gone, radioed into base, and said "they're not here, we're leaving."

"They're here. I'm sending them to you."
"No, they can call when they get here again."
"They're running."
"...This I have to see."

Sure enough, seconds later they arrived, so out of breath they were blissfully silent until I let them into their rooms.

This shift is boring.

I am contemplating making a Twitter for Reid.

I've been wired all week!

Daryl and I go out to lunch everyday between my class and his. We were waiting to pull back into the Student Center parking lot from off-campus. A girl in a pink shirt was waiting to cross the street. Traffic was oncoming.

Daryl: "I can has turn?"(YES I AM A BAD INFLUENCE)
*oncoming car stops for pedestrian. She gives a look of O__o and then hops across the street. Vigorously.*
Wren: "Don't worry, honey. We only stopped so we could watch your chest bounce as you walked."
Daryl: "..."
Daryl: "You. Are Such. A. BAD PERSON!"
Wren: "What? It's true!"
Daryl: "The thought didn't cross my mind!"
Wren: "You're not straight."
Daryl: "Neither are you!"
Wren: "Nope, I'm just easily distracted by anything pretty that moves."

Later, we are eating lunch in his truck when we see one of our coworkers, Awkward Turtle, walking across campus.

Daryl: "Oh God, there she is!"
Wren: "Do I bounce like that when I walk?"
Daryl: "No."
Wren: "You'd tell me, right?"
Daryl: "Yes."
Wren: "Because she looks like an orangutan."

*minutes pass*

Wren: "There she is again!"
Daryl: "Where?"
Wren: "How can you miss her? She's the four-wheeling pogo stick at four-o-clock!"
Daryl: *aghast* "You are SO going to--to come back as something inhuman!"
Wren: "No, because I am being observant of my surroundings! This is the first step!"
Daryl: "Wren!"
Wren: "What? Nothing I am saying is inaccurate!"
Daryl: "I know, but it is very wrong!"

Sometimes even I am wrong.

Night vision is useless if you don't look down.

Work sucks right now because we only have one flashlight, and it is never charged. It's not usually a problem on day shift...unless it is time to lock a dark building.

Building: *IZ TOTES DARK YO*
Daryl: "...shit!"
Wren: "We'll be fine!"

*Wren begins humming the Superman theme.*

Wren: "♫Da da da daaa, da da daaaa! I've got night vision♪, daa da daa daa--AAAUGH!"
Desk: *O HAI*
Right Knee: *OMG LEARN TO DRIVE U NUB!*
Daryl: *dies of laughter*

I just can't get over this.

Found an incomplete story I started in 7th grade, and I cannot stop laughing. The sarcasm. The angst. The characterizations of my family. The formatting.

You guys have to see this for yourselves.

This is your brain on rage.

How to annoy Wren in a few easy steps!

1) Invite her to hang out.
2) Tell her to take the bus when she says she has no way to get there.
3) Decide you don't believe her when she says how long the route will take. Look up your own route and tell it to her in a manner that insinuates you think she was lying.
4) When she points out that she wouldn't be able to get home due to holiday schedule, or would only be able to stay for an hour, snark.
5) Magically conclude she is right after all, then decide to leave her to her own devices without any further attempts to solve the problem.
6) Cover your ass by saying you're "in a weird mood" and then going afk.

Stop. Fucking. Punishing me for not having a car. I am not a charity case! I was in a perfectly good mood before this happened, and now I am not because all I can think about is how fucking upsetting it is to be stranded in U-Place with no way to do anything because nothing is within walking distance and biking on Orchard is certain death. And of course I have no way of knowing when I will finally have wheels again because the insurance companies are dragging their feet and I can't get new insurance or a new car until I know what they have decided. And this would be totally fine if people would stop pointing out how much this fucking limbo I am stuck in sucks.

Now if you'll excuse me, I am going to go clean something. Happy fucking Fourth of July.

Happy Half-Naked Thursday

Wren discovers trying to match her blanket often ends in pain.

It is the end of an era.

Bright light. (o_o)


Smile. (\m/)

Eyes. (-_\\)

I will be growing it back out from this cut.