Oh, Comcast...

The first thing I noticed when I finally got settled in here at TESC was that I can't live without high speed internet. I know that sounds pathetic, but in this age - when we're all addicted to technology (and as a child who grew up on computers) - I think it's perfectly fair. And frustrating. Especially since Evergreen is too remotely located for any decent network that doesn't cost the school thousands of dollars a year. So, we use something called ResNet. They're local, and they're slow, but they're also very helpful. More helpful than Comcast, anyway.

But in spite of that, I decided to sign up for their high speed internet. Because we already get all of our cable TV from ComcastNW on campus, it should have been easy to get internet as well. But Comcast likes to make things difficult - or at least they appreciate a good deal of irony.

So, I start the process at comcast.com, and everything's going fine. I figure out all the information I need, and fill out all the forms, but then I'm sent to a live chat with a woman or bot named Rhonnarey. I start confirming information, she all the while neglecting the punctuation keys, and then the ResNet server, like it does several times a day, decides to crap out. I waited a good ten minutes before calling them in.

Another problem with Evergreen's location is there is no reception in the dorms. In order to call Comcast, then, I have to step outside in my pajamas and hope that they don't need me to look at my computer. When I finally spoke to a customer service specialist, however, it turns out I could just stand outside in the fifty degree weather, awkwardly smiling at all the other students who walked by. But it's okay because it shouldn't take too long, right?

Wrong.

The minute I tell the guy what I want, he says, "Well, usually, you have to sign up for those things online..."

I just want to say here that doesn't make any fucking sense to sign up for internet over the internet. Sorry, but it's just entirely illogical. I mean, sure, it's nice to have the option of using the internet to sign up, but it only makes sense to allow users to sign up over the telephone. Silly, silly Comcast.

In any case, after a few minutes of negotiations, however, we (myself and my specialist) were able to work it out. So, in three to five days, I'll have my modem and fifteen days after that, I'll have quite a hefty bill because even self-installation has a fee that goes along with it.

I just wish I could tell Comcast that though irony is at times very amusing, poignant, and evocative, it is not at all funny when you're trying to set up an internet connection. It's just too bad Verizon doesn't actually serve mountainous terrains in the middle of - essentially - nowhere.

Karma

Being in a dorm with two men has made me believe in karma. For years, I was the laziest, dirtiest resident in my house (though I still stand by the fact that Natalie's room was almost always more disgusting than mine). But since coming to college, I've been the cleanest out of all of us.

Now, I should say here that it's not through lack of trying that my roommates come across as lazy. Clint tries very hard to keep the place clean - but it's the little things that count. The cabinets left unclosed, the bathroom door open at all hours, the cereal bag on the dining room table every morning. I now sympathize greatly with my mom and step mom. My god, I feel like I spend every second closing things and putting things away and washing dishes! Lights are always left on. It's unbelievable.

That being said, I still adore them. Russel has the most excellent musical tastes. He's a drummer and a DJ. His specialty is essentially everything. He listens to jazz, dance, electronic, reggae, rock, pop, hip hop, and much more. He's a big Vivaldi fan, which is my only beef. Vivaldi's fine, but I don't really find much enjoyment out of listening to him. Clint too has great taste, and he and I have been close friends for several years.

I just wish that when I asked Clint if he was going to just leave the bread out on the counter like that, that he hadn't responded with, "I'll move it since it's in your way." Why on earth don't you move it because bread doesn't like to sit out and get stale on a counter? Why in Christ's name don't you move it because you're not using it anymore?! What's wrong with that?

Troy Davis granted stay!

Exciting news: Troy Davis has been granted a one week stay in which time the US Supreme court and the Georgia courts will decide whether or not to retry him.

Hopefully, the Supreme Court will get involved.

Less than six hours

There is now less than a quarter of a day until Troy Davis is scheduled to be executed.

Please take action with Amnesty International: http://tinyurl.com/5p94u8

I will keep you updated.

Welcome, Greeners!

Or so read the signs littering the campus this weekend of my arrival at the Evergreen State College. I have to say the most memorable moments over the last twenty-five or so hours have taken place in Evergreen's stunning woods. It is absolutely striking, how beautiful it is out here. But I didn't really take note of that until a few hours after we'd arrived.

When I first got to my dorm, four name tags hung on our door signaled by first name to my roommates and myself that this was our floor. Each name was written on a wanted sign, and below each name was the crime that particular student had committed. Mine was for insulting a mustache. The reward? 30,000 dollars.

I admit that after I got all my possessions into my room, I was completely apprehensive, stressed, and lonely - despite the name tags and despite the fact that my best friend is living with me. I missed my family, my friends, my room, and my cat, but it turned out to be wonderful. Though I have only just gotten close to finishing unpacking (I only have to put up my decorations), I already started to feel like it was my room last night when I went to bed. It was probably because I had a nice, comfortable bed to roll into after the raging party in the woods I attended for ten minutes and the left from, bored.

In any case, Clint and I stayed up until one last night and got up at eight this morning. I experimented with my first home-cooked meal. Well, kind of. It was microwaveable oatmeal, and since I didn't have a microwave, I just poured boiling water into it which worked out fine. Then I went back to bed.

When I finally got up for the day, Clint and I hurried out to the student accounts building to get our IDs. They were closed, so we went to the bookstore to get my books, the registration room to get our IDs again (still closed), and the Child Care Center to check up on our job applications. They, too, were closed. So finally, we just went into town.

If you haven't yet been to Olympia, I suggest that the first place you should try is the Bread Peddler. It's this wonderful little bakery on Capitol Way and Third (or Fifth). It had a wonderful atmosphere - i.e. not a college cafe - and even more wonderful food. They serve hot and cold sandwiches, desserts, pastries, soups, breads, coffee, and wine (11AM until close). The cheeses are all excellent, the desserts and pastries are fresh, and almost everything is organic, locally grown, and of impressively high quality. You can eat in or to-go. There's also a pre-made station where you can pick up a sandwich or doughnut, along with a local juice, and head out the door. There's indoor and outdoor seating, and it's on a very lovely stretch of road.

Anyway, before we made it to the bakery, Clint and I stopped by a great comic book store just a few blocks away where I bought the first two issues Neil Gaiman's Sandman. It's a wonderful story - as expected from Gaiman - but the art is stunning. The colorist is absolutely brilliant. I suggest all of you artsy/comic book people reading this check out his Sandman series.

At 4:30, we had a meeting with our RA. It was all of gender neutral housing, so there were a good twenty to thirty people in the room. Our first ice breaker activity was a basic name game. We were each given a Hershey's kiss and a condom. Based on the color of each, we had to describe ourselves. If one had a golden kiss, she had to name her favourite Spice Girl. Silver, and she had to name her favourite Rocky Horror character. Red, and she had to name her favourite city. The color of the condom was more loose: one would have to describe herself with an adjective that rhymed with or alliterated the color, or simply name a memory that came to mind when looking at it. Fortunately, most people opted for the first option (though some students did end up divulging the exact age at which they lost their virginities).

My RA's name is Larry. He's a totally fun human being. Clint and I talked to him for a while, asked him questions, and joined him for dinner with the other freshmen from our housing. My roomates are also very cool. Chantal is a sophomore from Maine who drove all the way here in her truck, and Russel is a twenty-one-year-old freshman from somewhere with Buddhas and pictures of Hindu tapestries all over his walls. My guess is he doesn't really have a coherent religion. Russel, as it turns out, has excellent taste in music and is a really easygoing, eager individual. Chantal is a sweet gal who is actually aware of her roommates when considering bringing her friends over. I anticipate an easy year with the two of them.

----

Well, as I write this, it's starting to get late and I still have not finished getting everything organized. My most prized possessions - my books - are staring at me longingly from their various homes, so I think it's time I sit down and read some more Sandman and maybe get some posters on my walls. I need a little relaxation after today's excitement and tragedies (my motherboard died on my linux box and I am positively heartbroken), but I will continue to keep you all updated on orientation week as exciting new things happen.



Au revoir, mes amis.

Troy Davis sentenced again

On September 12th, the Georgian Pardon and Parole board rejected clemency for a most likely innocent man, Troy Davis, in the murder of an off-duty police officer. He was first sentenced in 1991. He has been fighting for his freedom since then.

The problem with this case is Davis is both a black American and there is absolutely no physical evidence against him. The court found him guilty on only eye witness reports. Since then, seven of the witnesses have changed their stories. Some have said police coerced them, others have signed affidavits saying that one of the two remaining witnesses was the real murderer - but because of our broken justice system, none of this evidence has made it to the appeals.

Troy Davis was rejected again on the twelfth and is scheduled to be executed on the twenty-third.

The ACLU is currently leading a campaign to free Troy Davis, as there is no real evidence against him. Unfortunately, the restrictive appeals process and inherent Georgian racism has led to a frightening conclusion; and despite the ACLU's best efforts, Davis will be punished for a crime he did not commit.

Though this is my personal blog, I feel obligated to share this with all of you. It is important that we realize a black man is sentenced to death on only one credible witness while a white man has nine credible witnesses against him. I ask you to share this with those you know and to take a moment to write the board to commute Davis's sentence.

For more information, visit the ACLU page dedicated to Troy: https://secure.aclu.org/site/Advocacy?pagename=homepage&page=SplashPage&id=906

read this article by Time writer Brendan Lowe: http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1643384,00.html?cnn=yes

and visit Troy Davis's advocacy website: http://www.troyanthonydavis.org/


Thank you for your time. The next blog will be cheerier.

In the Beginning...

Hey, y'all.

So, I'm starting my adventures this weekend at the Evergreen State College, as you all know, and I've decided to keep this blog updated for both my personal sanity and (hopefully) your enlightenment and entertainment. Who knows where this will lead me... Perhaps I'll end up blogging about the many factors that went into my decision to drop out of school, move to Oregon, and grow pot for a living.

As comforting as that is to hear for my parents, one never knows where her future will take her. It's like the great EL Doctorow once said: Writing a novel is like driving at night. You can only see a little ways in front of you, but you can make any destination that way. I'm assuming he's taken into account mileage, speed limits, and road access, but the point is that anything and everything is possible - and even sometimes likely. I could end up working for the UN (god forbid), writing novels about Serious Human Dilemmas, or teaching undergraduate students how to properly read Shakespeare. I might even fulfill my father's dreams for me by becoming a computer scientist, or his nightmares by converting to fundamentalist Islam/Christianity. It really doesn't matter which; it would still horrify and depress him.

In any case, I will go where I go, and I will do what I do, and I will blog about all of it right here.


I'm Abby Anderson.

Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow.