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How I raised my IRSC quotient
Friday, December 16, 2005

› by victoria

I was going to search for the quote from "Interstellar Pig" where Barney realizes that his IRSC (Interstellar Relative Sapience Code) quotient, which is 93, is BAD...the higher the number, the less intelligent you/your species are. But instead I found out that "Interstellar Pig" is presumably in production somewhere to be a movie which is totally exciting because I love that book! If you have never read any William Sleator books, you need to get your hands on some because they are all fantastic and really quite fascinating. I still find "The Green Futures of Tycho" really confusing and fascinating.


Before I edit and print out my final version of my final philosophy paper, I figured I needed to vent and explain all the craziness (which will be damn funny, so brace yourself) which has happened recently.

So on--God, what was it? Today is Friday, so that means Wednesday night--on Wednesday night, Biff's huge final project in Space Forms materials was due the next day and he had the wooden box and we had gotten together some random crap from the Milwaukee Antiques Center (*which is closing, for good, on December 31st, so if you want to grab some majorly reduced retro stuff, I suggest you head over there--they have a really awesome 1950's shot glass set that looks like it came from the Jetsons that I didn't get but you can), and then we went out on a late-night run to Walgreens to pick up some Epoxy and wrapping paper to decorate the inside of the box. (*Note: our apartment was a complete mess at the time because Biff's mom sent us a wonderful box of really useful great Xmas presents like gloves, hats, socks, snacks, etc., and you know how messy things get when you open up Xmas presents) So we go out to the 24 hour Walgreens and there's this crazy Norwegian (well, I'm guessing he was Norwegian, he definitely had a scandinavian accent) guy yelling at the security guards in Walgreens that they couldn't throw him out of the store.

Scandinavian Guy (*in a high pitched yell): "You...You cahn't throw me out. I'm a paying custohmahr...You are all Puerto-Ricans!"

Or something like that. The shit he was yelling was so random and bizarre. Everyone else in the store was feeling a combination of being alienated by his outburst, and amused by the weirdness of it all. Very incongruous.

Then we went home with some teensy Xmas lights, batteries, giftwrap and epoxy and Biff tried to cut up some old Barbie dolls and glue them into a funky new sculpture. for some reason, our tried-and-true glue friend epoxy was not working to hold things together too well and was emitting nasty fumes. Biff cut--with precision--the pieces of lovely foil-paper to line the box. We called it quits at 3 AM on Thursday morning.
Woke up at 8:30 AM thursday morning and I came up with a new idea for the box: instead of the stupid Barbie doll, how about using the pretty box as a mini-Shrine for a Maneki neko? We already had 3 of them. So the Xmas mini lights were arranged like little candles with their battery case covered with foil paper, OLD SPICE deodorant cap was used as a pedestal for the little statue to sit on. We went out and got the wood varnish of death from ACE hardware and some babies' breath from a florist for $2-yay!. Then we came back so Biff could varnish the box "Ebony."


As soon as Biff opened it with a screwdriver, the varnish started emitting these toxic fumes that made me (at least, and perhaps Biff) higher than glue-sniffers. Our heads hurt and our chests hurt. We opened up all the windows (bear in mind, it is very cold outside) and set up fans to try to circulate the air...but it was noxious, noxious stuff. Combined with the epoxy vapours from the previous night, and we were so toxified that I doubt going to a spa in Arizona could even clean out our systems. Basically we had to get out of the apartment in record time before we
A.) passed out
B.) died from chemical toxin overexposure
C.) had our brains filled with holes like swiss cheese

But Biff's box looked awesome. I wrote my 14 page english final exam paper yesterday afternoon, still reeling from the effects of the "Wood Varnish." Nasty, nasty stuff.
It's a good thing we managed to recover, although this morning on my marketing exam I basically was saying to myself "whatever." I am so happy to be going on vacation. I really need it!


Oh, and now our apartment isn't toxic. So things are back to normal. I think.

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